See-Saws: Part 4 (2011 Big Bang)
Title: (When I Think of Your Kisses, My Mind) See-Saws...
Summary: Modern AU. Sometimes the road to love is paved in ridiculous, if not somewhat awkward Facebook and Twitter posts, far too many pop culture references than are strictly necessary, nosy supporting cast members with insanely large personalities, the establishment of “Comfy Couch of Cuddles and Conversations", and a little bit of liquid courage. Call it a bonus when destiny lives next door. Loosely based on this KMM prompt.
Part 4
And that was how it had all started. What it was, Merlin hadn’t quite decided yet, but there it was... staring him in the face. And, if he had to give it a title, well then Merlin figured it was the beginning of friendship.
Because somewhere between opening the door for Arthur that first night, meeting Gwen the next morning (and falling immediately and deeply in love with her - he was sure that’s what it was... love... epic, platonic love) and spending almost as much, if not more, time with those two than he spent with his own two best friends, Merlin was finding that they were all becoming friends (except Arthur and Will - Gwaine sure had called that one).
If he weren’t so inexplicably horrified by the idea, Merlin might actually find the excitement in it.
He’d even been introduced to Morgana (heaven help him, she was scary in an a strangely alluring way) and Leon, who were pretty excited to make his acquaintance. Merlin wasn’t even sure why, but Leon had muttered something about “not being his usual type" and “didn’t see that one coming" all while shaking Merlin’s hand vigorously and welcoming him into the “group".
Merlin hadn’t known there was a group, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Gwen and Arthur were definitely a group kind of couple. And since Morgana was Arthur’s brother and Gwen was Morgana’s best friend and Leon was Arthur’s best friend and Leon was also Morgana’s boyfriend (Merlin Emrys is confused.), they were definitely a tight-knit group. Honestly, Merlin didn’t expect to just slide into it.
(Un)fortunately that was exactly what had happened. Gwaine, of course, thought it was all sorts of special. He’d been going on and on about “Arthur and Merlin’s undeniable love affair" for the last month. Every time he’d come from from spending another Saturday out with Gwen (they really enjoyed going to see a movie, followed up by coffee and scones, and then a walk through the park on the way home), Gwaine would comment on how he’d seen Arthur out in the back garden, pouting.
Merlin had scoffed the first time he’d said that and said, “If that’s true, Gwaine, which I’m sure it isn’t, then he was only pouting because his girlfriend is out with another man."
Gwaine’s response had been a loud, “HA!" followed by several loud and off-key versus of Tonight I Wanna Cry by Keith Urban. Damn Americans.
Will, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy with Merlin and his new found friendships. And though his reasons were flimsy - for example, “Gwen is ridiculously perky, Merlin. Perky and bouncy and... you can’t trust perky, bouncy people." (Merlin had nearly died from laughter) - Merlin knew that Will was really just worried about him getting attached to a straight man (that he admittedly had a mild crush on) and his girlfriend. It had happened to Merlin more times than he ever wanted to admit aloud, and he appreciated Will’s concern.
But Merlin just liked both of them way too much. He was spending ridiculous amounts of time with Gwen because she was just marvelous, and by extension, he’d spent quite a few days out with Morgana, as well. And nearly every Sunday Merlin had met Arthur in the front yards getting the paper (amongst other nearly daily meetings before and after work - it was like they had the same schedule or something). Each conversation had become less and less strained, until the last week when Arthur had actually laughed out loud at one of Merlin’s lame jokes and thumped him on the back.
And that was how Merlin found himself staring at Arthur’s Facebook page, reading and re-reading his info and quote (Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle. -Abraham Lincoln) and contemplating the repercussions of pressing the “Add as Friend" button. To him, it seemed like they were friends, so adding him as a friend on Facebook just seemed like the natural progression of things.
Gwen had added him the day before. Within ten minutes of him accepting her friend request, she’d written on his wall:
After he’d very unsuccessfully tried to get out of this photo shoot she was determined to have, he’d gone and spent the next fifteen minutes scouring her page. The first thing he noticed was that she didn’t have a relationship status. It was... strange. Of course, Merlin knew lots of people who didn’t have their relationship status updated on Facebook, but he was still shocked to see that Gwen’s was just... missing.
After that he looked over the rest of her information, including her quote by Marilyn Monroe: “If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything." He thought it was wildly appropriate. Once he was sure he couldn’t avoid it any longer, he went and dug through her photos. Gwen was, surprisingly, not big on uploading photos. The little icon next to the Photos link said she was tagged in 157 pictures, but weren’t public. However, he could see her profile pictures and a couple of others of she, Morgana, Leon and Arthur. The group.
Merlin sighed and stared at his cursor hovering over the “Add as Friend" button for another moment. Finally, biting the bullet, he pressed the left button on his mouse and prayed that Arthur would at least consider it.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur’s morning routine was thrown off slightly when he opened his Facebook account and saw that he had a new friend request.
From Merlin.
He stared for a long time at the Confirm button before clicking over to the link to his page instead. Of course, Merlin was one of those guys who had his Facebook page locked up tighter than a drum. Not that Arthur had any room to talk. The only thing a non-friend could see on Arthur’s page was his name and profile picture. Merlin’s was slightly more lax, considering he could see that he lived in Camelot, grew up in Ealdor and was currently single. He could also see that they had one mutual friend (Gwen, of course).
Scrolling through, Merlin had left some of his interests open, which included The Smiths (Arthur wasn’t surprised), football, coaching and a slew of other random things that seemed very... Merlin. Arthur noted that Merlin was tagged in 198 pictures, but could only see his current profile picture from his main page: a simple picture of himself, smiling like a lunatic. Considering who Merlin’s friends were, Arthur figured it was best that no one could see the additional pictures of Merlin. I’m sure the school wouldn’t be happy to have his students see pictures of Will, Gwaine and Merlin drunk and disorderly.
Arthur closed down his Facebook page and opened his email. He knew that he would probably (eventually?) confirm Merlin as a friend. He was just still feeling really weird about things with him and didn’t want to seem too eager. As it was, he had almost added Merlin as a friend the day before when he’d seen that Gwen was now friends with him. He knew then that it was only a matter of time before Merlin and Morgana were friends, and then Merlin would be friends with Leon. Arthur really didn’t want to be the last one to add him, making him look like some sort of prat or something.
And that actually made him sound prattish. Arthur shook his head. He actually really liked Merlin. A lot. But it was confusing, because it was so much more than liking him as a friend. And, as he’d explained to himself (and everyone else who seemed to have an opinion on the matter), Merlin was not his type. Not even a little bit. So, of course, he didn’t - couldn’t - actually like Merlin. It was pretty obvious to Arthur that he was in desperate need of a new girl/boyfriend.
Or a regular sex partner.
Yeah, Arthur would take a regular sex partner. No strings. Just sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Arthur stared at his email inbox, but didn’t really see the words. He was daydreaming about all the sex he could be having with his imaginary, emotions-free partner that was going to materialize her/himself any moment. Arthur was ashamed to admit that his trousers were tight just imagining the kind of fun he could have in his office alone. With all the relationships he’d been in and all the sex he’d had since losing his virginity at fifteen, Arthur had never had sex in his office. Even when he was dating someone from the office. Office sex was sounding better every moment.
He sat back in his chair a bit and cautioned a glance at his half-closed door. No one was due into the office for at least another half hour, so... well, Arthur felt it would be safe to... indulge a moment.
His fantasy partner continuously slipped from a long and leggy woman to a tall and muscular man and back, both nameless and faceless and extremely satisfying, as he slouched a bit in his chair and let his legs fall open. The first touch had made a shiver run down his spine. The second stroke, only a little harder, was far less tentative and made his cock jump in excitement. By the time Arthur pressed down a third time, his cock was straining against his zipper and his fantasy partner was carefully pushing it down.
Arthur unbuttoned his trousers and then pushed the zipper down, the tip of his throbbing cock peeking out through the top of his boxers, glistening. He pushed down the waistband of his boxers until they lodged behind his balls and pressured everything upwards, making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.
Fantasy partner wrapped their hand tightly around his cock and started rubbing in earnest almost immediately, and so did Arthur. He kept the same rushed and thorough rhythm until his hips were bucking forward to meet his palm, sweat was beading on his forehead and he was gasping in between thrusts, trying not to be too loud.
Just as Fantasy Partner decided to lean down and swipe his tongue across the head of his cock, Arthur realized that Fantasy Partner had turned into Merlin - thin, long fingers, skinny neck, big blue eyes and ears. The wanton look on his face as his pink tongue peeked out from between his pretty lips and touched the tip to Arthur’s head, Arthur came hard. His head tipped back and he nearly cried out Merlin’s name loud and clear, but regained enough sense to only allow it to tumble from his lips in a gentle rumble.
Quick and angry, Arthur grabbed a handful of tissue from his desk and cleaned himself up. “Fantastic," Arthur mumbled to himself, tossing the tissues in the bin beside his desk and redoing his trousers hastily. It was bad enough Merlin had featured in nearly all his nighttime dreams for the last month, but apparently he was going to be the face Arthur saw in his daydreams. “Fan-fucking-tastic."
Giving himself a quick look over just in case someone had snuck into the office early, Arthur got up from his desk and walked out toward the loo to clean up a bit. As the fresh, cool air of the outer office hit his olfactory senses, Arthur realized that he needed to clear out the heavy smell of sex (masturbatory sex, Arthur thought, rolling his eyes). He’d need to light that stupid, flowery candle Vivian insisted he keep in his office. She said it brought ambiance. What the fuck did he need ambiance in his office for? (Masturbatory sex, he thought again.)
When he’d cleaned himself up in the loo - which had included straightening his tie, flattening his hair in the back and tucking in his shirt - he walked purposefully back into his office. Once inside, he made sure the door was open wide to let in some fresh air, lit the bloody candle and sat back down at his desk. Minimizing his email, he opened Facebook again and stared at his friends requests. “Merlin Stupid Face Emrys," he said eloquently and shook his head.
He clicked “Confirm Friend".
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
As much time as Merlin had spent with Gwen in the last two and a half months - which was a ridiculous amount that he could only justify because he loved her in a strictly I think you’re amazing, but totally don’t want to have sex with you because I’m gay sort of way - he had never been inside hers and Arthur’s flat. She had been inside his and Will’s many times. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure how or why it had happened that way, but he had an inkling that it had something to do with his not wanting to be in Arthur’s domain with Arthur’s woman and his feelings that he had for Arthur.
They were a lot of feelings.
Stupid feelings.
So the first time Merlin stepped into Arthur and Gwen’s flat, he was instantly hyper aware of the fact that he had crossed into enemy territory (Merlin Emrys isn’t enemies with anyone really.)
However, he got over the immediate feeling fairly quickly because his next astonished thought was, Holy hell, it’s our flat in reverse. As if it wouldn’t be anyway. It wasn’t like they didn’t live in the same row of houses, built by the same contruction firm in the same year, or anything. Merlin Emrys is slow. Merlin’s thoughts were all sorts of ridiculous (yes, even the non-first person ones).
His third thought was, “Oh my god, you live in the Land of Giant Sofas."
Gwen looked at him and grinned. “Eeeeeee! I love that," she squealed. “We are totally calling it that from now on. I’ll tell Arthur when he gets home."
Merlin was suddenly reminded that he was, in fact, inside Arthur’s flat. He fought the urge to run back out screaming, “I swear I’m not trying to stalk you!"
“But it’s lovely, isn’t it?" Gwen said, interrupting his thoughts, and then tacking on quite quickly and in that rushed voice that she used when she was sure she was being rude, “Not that your furniture isn’t lovely, or anything. I mean, you furniture is fabulous. It’s old and worn." Merlin looked over and saw her eyes bulge comically. “Not that old and worn aren’t good things, of course! Especially when I’m talking about your furniture. Because I do absolutely love your furniture."
Amused, Merlin put up his hand to stop her rambling, a smile on his face. “Yes, I know how you feel about my old, worn furniture," he said, teasing her. When she grinned back, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’d like to explore your Land of the Giant Sofas now, Lady Guinevere."
Merlin had gone about calling Gwen Lady Guinevere after he teased her about her and Arthur having such famously historical names. She had tried to protest that it was just coincidence and really didn’t mean a thing, but Merlin got a kick out of seeing her squirm (even if it hurt his heart a little to think about them actually being destined for each other). She’d eventually quit arguing with him when he’d said he could call her Her Majesty Queen Guinevere. Evidently, Lady was far more appropriate.
Gwen grinned, slipped her arm around Merlin’s waist and started walking him toward their living room. They stopped in somewhere near the centre of the room and Merlin could only stare at the massive black and white plaid couch, love seat, chair and ottoman occupying their living room.
“They’re brand new for the new flat," she said. “Arthur said, ‘New home, new furniture, new beginning,’ so this is what we got." Merlin’s heart clenched a bit just thinking of the conversations they must have had leading up to purchasing this new place together. Nope, Merlin Emrys is done thinking about that!
Gwen grabbed Merlin’s hand and pulled him along. “They are so comfy, that you instantly want to fall asleep in them when you sit down." She cocked her head to the side and grinned. “Kind of like your furniture."
Merlin laughed. “Only in giant size!"
Gwen giggled as she pushed him into the centre of the sofa, before sidling up next to him and setting her head on his shoulder. He was so distracted by the soft, plush couch enveloping him in a hug like a long-lost friend, that he almost forgot all about his promise to himself that he wouldn’t be too outwardly affection with Gwen when he was in their flat. Just in case Arthur came home and caught them, thinking that Merlin was only using Gwen to get to him somehow. Merlin had a slightly flawed outlook of this weird relationship, he knew, but it was because he really didn’t want to have all these feelings and spent most of his time utterly confused about everything.
Merlin shook his head and tilted his head back against the couch. He was too tired to think about all this right then. It had been a crazy week at school with a few large tests coming up and longer football practices to get ready for a big game that weekend. On top of that, he’d picked up two additional tutees in each chemistry and maths.
He really hadn’t been awake enough, nor interested in going out that day, but it was becoming tradition for him to spend Saturdays with Gwen and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Her disappointment face was like watching someone bury their puppy. Merlin would not be responsible for that face.
“You’re a little bony, Merlin," she said, her voice a little sleepy as she managed to puff up the sleeve of his hoodie to create a cushion. “You should work on that."
Merlin just grunted in assent, pretty sure she hadn’t been actually seeking an answer and started to feel himself relax completely for the first time in the last two weeks. Sleep was imminent.
Merlin looked down at the top of Gwen’s dark, curly head and tried to remember how the process of speech worked. He wanted to tell her that he should probably just call it a day and head home. He wanted to tell her that he was just ridiculously tired and he wasn’t going to be anymore fun for the rest of the day. He wanted to thank her for getting him out of the house earlier, though, and that he really enjoyed all the time they spent together. He wanted to reiterate how much her friendship meant to him.
Unfortunately, the couch was swallowing him up and coaxing his tired body into a nap he wasn’t ready to take and, against his will and better judgement, his eyes started to drift shut.
When he unconsciously hummed in happiness a moment later, Gwen responded with a chuckle and a hmmm of her own. And just as he was about to fall asleep, Merlin managed to say, “Remind me, when I wake up, that I need a flag." Gwen’s answering hum lifted at the end like a question, so Merlin explained, “I want to stick it in the middle of this mystical Land of Giant Sofas and proclaim it my territory."
Gwen wasn’t sleepy enough to stop her from laughing out loud.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur was packing up his desk and shutting down his computer when Morgana strode into his office. At the same time Vivian’s voice came over his intercom, clipped and annoyed that Morgana hadn’t waited to be announced, “Ms. Pendragon is here to see you."
Rolling his eyes, Arthur pushed down the button to respond, “So I see. Thank you, Viv. You can head home now."
Morgana looked from his hands, which were busy shoving files and loose papers into his satchel, to the giant clock that sat high behind his desk and back again. “Where are you going?" she asked.
“It’s Thursday," Arthur responded simply. It had been four months since Gwen and Arthur had moved into their new flat and four months since he’d walked across their yards to borrow menus from Merlin. In those four months, they had gradually (much slower than Merlin and Gwen) become friends who spent actual time together outside of the occasional chat over the Sunday paper in the yard.
It had started when Gwen had asked Merlin over one night when both Will and Gwaine had been out for the evening and Gwen didn’t want him to have to eat alone. They were only getting Chinese take-away - nothing fancy - but Gwen had felt bad for him. Arthur figured that maybe Merlin would actually like to have some time away from his crazy, loud, obnoxious friends for a change. But he’d not argued with Gwen and had gone over to Merlin’s to ask.
Of course, when Merlin had said he’d love to, Arthur figured it was probably because he couldn’t tell Gwen no and disappoint her, not because he actually wanted to spend time with them. It was like looking at someone burying their puppy when Gwen was disappointed. No one wanted to cause that - or see it, for that matter.
And after that first night, which had been a surprisingly good time, Gwen had gotten in the habit of asking Merlin over once a week when she knew he was alone. On the fourth week of this, however, Gwen had been kept at work extra late each night with a special, full-time patient at the therapy clinic (Gwen specialized in children’s art therapy). Arthur had hemmed and hawed over whether or not he should ask Merlin over that Thursday evening, when he knew he was alone again.
He was still struggling with his feelings for Merlin and, even though he really liked him as person - as a friend - he didn’t know if he could trust himself with Merlin without Gwen there as a buffer. He didn’t want to have feelings for Merlin and when those intense moments of denial inevitably hit, Arthur couldn’t be held responsible for his response, no matter how over the top (and potentially hurtful) it might be.
Finally he had sucked it and asked him to come over, explaining that Gwen wasn’t going to be around, but it was pizza night and he needed to make sure Merlin was there to keep him from eating the whole thing. Arthur tried to forget the way Merlin had chewed on his bottom lip, looking thoughtful with his brow wrinkled and maybe a little skittish, before smiling gently and following him over.
Arthur would like to say that it hadn’t been awkward, but it had been. But only for a short time. And by the time Gwen had made it back to the flat, he and Merlin were laughing loudly at Wedding Crashers and sharing a bowl of popcorn.
And after that night, Gwen stopped joining them for dinner, saying that Arthur deserved a night out without her every once in a while (“It’s not like we’re dating, Arthur. We don’t have to spend all our time together.") and made sure she had plans.
Morgana looked back at the clock again, like it would confirm for her that it was, in fact, Thursday and then back to Arthur, who was pulling off his tie and folding it perfectly to place in his satchel. He shrugged into his suit jacket.
“Yes," she said, sounding confused. “I know it’s Thursday. That doesn’t explain to me why you’re leaving the office nearly an hour before you usually do."
Arthur fixed the collar of his shirt and then gave his sister an exasperated look. “I have dinner plans."
And it was like a light bulb went off over Morgana’s head. “Dinner plans," she said, smirking. “Dinner plans."
Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes again and grabbed his satchel to put over his shoulder. “Yes," he said, exasperated. “And I need to be going, or I’ll be late."
He started toward the door, ready to brush past Morgana and any of the questions she might have that would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable. Instead, Leon popped his head inside and grinned. “Mr. Knight," Vivian’s agitated voice came from his intercom. Arthur didn’t grace her with a response.
“Did you ask him?" Leon asked Morgana, before coming fully inside the door and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Morgana looked annoyed at the affection, but Arthur knew better. She secretly loved the attention, as long as it came from Leon.
“Ask me what?" Arthur asked, looking back at the clock and seeing that if their conversation took much longer, he was going to be late. He hated being late. Even if it was only to dinner with Merlin.
Morgana answered, “I didn’t get a chance. He has plans anyway."
“Plans?" Leon looked at Arthur, confusion on his big, scruffy face and then, “OH!" Leon smirked and Arthur scowled. “Plaaaaaans." Arthur watched Leon nod his head knowingly and wanted to smack him with his satchel.
Instead, he sighed heavily and said, “What were you going to ask me?"
Morgana waved her hand at him flippantly and shrugged. “Nothing." Arthur did roll his eyes that time and Morgana elaborated, “Just wanted to see if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight."
Arthur smiled at his sister, genuinely happy that they’d thought of him for dinner. He’d been working so many hours lately trying to publicly smooth over all the issues they’d been having with Morgause (things were so not getting better on that front), that he hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with them outside of work. Maybe that was why Arthur had been making it a point to have dinner with Merlin each week; he needed some social interaction and normalcy in his life.
“I appreciate the offer," Arthur said and adjusted his satchel. When Morgana rolled his eyes, he grinned even wider. “Really, I do. Why don’t we make plans for this weekend?" he asked, moving closer to them. “Get some fresh air at the park, or something, and some dinner."
Leon grinned and slapped his free hand against Arthur’s back. “I think that sounds like a great idea, mate!"
“We should invite those neighbours of yours, as well," Morgana added, all exasperated fondness for her brother gone, only to be replaced by her all-knowing smirk.
Arthur shook his. “I’ll ask tonight."
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Merlin had never been a fan of the man capri look and had never seen anyone, outside of Zac Efron (Merlin Emrys will never admit to watching High School Musical. One, two or three. Thankyouverymuch.), who could pull them off. That was, of course, until he’d met Arthur.
Merlin had been slightly shocked when he’d wandered over to Arthur’s that evening, knocked on the door, and Arthur had answered in something other than his work clothes. Of course, Merlin had seen Arthur in more casual attire before - he favored jeans, polo shirts and trainers, Merlin had noted - but that was mostly on the weekends. On the nights Merlin showed up for dinner (or when Merlin insisted Arthur just come over to his house because it was only fair), Arthur usually wore his work clothes - shirt untucked, slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled and tie missing.
He would never admit it aloud, but Merlin was highly attracted to that look.
However, this new one was definitely a contender.
Arthur busied himself in the kitchen gathering up silverware, napkins and plates, while Merlin sat at the counter watching. He had quickly found out that Arthur absolutely refused to eat out of take away boxes, even when sat in front of the television during meals. When Merlin had asked why, Arthur had rolled his eyes and haughtily replied, “Because, Merlin. Eating from boxes is the most uncivilized form of food consumption. Ever.". Merlin nearly snorted aloud again at the memory, but refrained - only just - and allowed himself to examine Arthur’s very delectable backside.
Merlin decided that Arthur looked good in his blue-khaki man capris, dark gray v-neck t-shirt and navy Sperry thongs. It was a more relaxed look than he was used to seeing him in and it suited him. Add in the fact that his hair was tousled like he’d run his hands through it a million times during the day and he looked downright shaggable. Not that he didn’t alwayslook shaggable, of course, Merlin thought. It just wasn’t fair for anyone to be as gorgeous as Arthur.
And why did Merlin have to have this impossible crush on Arthur anyway? It was one thing that he’d have a crush on a straight man (because that had happened more often than not), but why did he have to be practically in love with Gwen’s boyfriend? And why did he, all of a sudden, spend more time with Gwen’s boyfriend than Gwen did? It had been the other way around not a couple of weeks ago. He still spent time with Gwen, of course - ridiculous amounts of time that included their traditional Saturday together - but lately Merlin had been spending large chunks of time with Arthur, sans Gwen.
But even then, the time they did spend together with Gwen wasn’t even remotely awkward. Gwen and Arthur had the most ridiculous relationship Merlin had ever seen. They were touchy-feely, but never anything more than Gwen was with Merlin. He would even say that Gwen was more touchy-feely with Merlin than she was with her own boyfriend. On top of that, they never kissed in front of him; they just seemed to lack any knowledge of PDA.
OR! What if they only refrained from kissing in front of him because they both knew he had a gigantic crush on Arthur and they didn’t want him to feel weird? Merlin felt ill at the mere thought and had to consciously keep himself in his seat, rather than follow instinct and run back home, never to be seen by his evil neighbours ever again.
Merlin Emrys is overly dramatic.
What it all came down to was that the whole thing was just so bloody confusing. Sure, Merlin would say that he and Arthur were friends. And he agreed with Gwen that Arthur didn’t need to spend every waking hour with her (even if his opinion was biased in his own favour). It seemed Arthur was happy to have some “guy" time anyway.
Just... well, sometimes it made Merlin wonder. Arthur and Gwen both spent more time with Merlin than they spent with each other. What in the world did that mean?
And that, right there, was a really bad idea. Wondering. Thinking. All of it led to hoping and that was just not something Merlin needed to put on his own shoulders right now.
Or ever, if he could help it.
Breaking from his reverie, Merlin watched Arthur reach up into the cupboard to pull down a couple of glasses (“We don’t drink beer out of the bottle at meal times, Merlin.") and noted the way his t-shirt pulled tight across his strong back, muscles rippling. It took a lot of effort to keep the moan from escaping his lips. A small breath may have escaped, but he was sure it was quiet.
Arthur decided then was a good time to look over his shoulder and smirk.
“You’re ridiculously quiet tonight, Merlin," Arthur said, setting the two glasses down beside their plates. “I figured you’d be prattling on and on as usual about your girls and their awesomeness, or all those things related to Chemistry that I only pretend to care about and understand." Merlin rolled his eyes. “It is Thursday, after all."
“You’re a right prat, you know that?" Merlin asked, not at all upset by Arthur’s jab. He never seemed to actually get mad at Arthur. Merlin was starting to wonder if he even knew how. “Complete tosser."
Arthur laughed while the door bell rang, walking off to answer it. “That’s better," he called.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Merlin looked like a geek, as usual. But damn him if he didn’t look like a cute geek.
Arthur had never met another man who could pull off men’s skinny jeans like Merlin could. As Merlin was sitting cross-legged on the couch, his skinny jeans were sitting impossibly low on his thin hips, never held up by a belt and always looked close to falling off, bare feet and a ridiculous black t-shirt, ragged and frayed at the ends, with the words Stolen From Mr. G’s Furniture in faded red lettering, he looked like some kid who had just finished his A-levels, not a uni graduate and fully-fledged teacher.
Well, with the exception of his five o’clock shadow that, for some reason, made Arthur’s belly turn to gelatin. Stupid Merlin and his stupid stubble, anyway. Arthur poked angrily at his dinner and pretended he wasn’t pouting.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m pretty sure your dinner didn’t do it," Merlin commented, pointing at Arthur with his chopsticks before grabbing a piece of spicy chicken and popping it into his mouth. “Besides, it’s already dead," he added around a mouthful of food. “Poking it isn’t going to do much."
Damn, he’d been caught. Fuck. “Sorry," Arthur replied, not exactly sure if he was apologizing to Merlin over his attitude or the moo shu pork he was trying to destroy.
Merlin shrugged at him and smiled at him, making Arthur’s stomach flip-flop a little bit. “You should be apologizing to your dinner. I’m sure it’s very sad."
Arthur tried not to grin back at Merlin, but even his lame attempts at comedy seemed to be golden. The truth was, Arthur wasn’t mad or annoyed with Merlin at all. It wasn’t like it was Merlin’s fault Arthur was confused about all his feelings.
He hadn’t been able to get Morgana’s smirk and Leon’s grin out of his head since he’d left the office. His whole ride home had been tense and uncomfortable. All because he, apparently, had a crush on his ridiculous neighbour and his ears. And everyone seemed to bloody know about it, even when Arthur wasn't entirely sure he was okay with it! It was turning into the giant pink elephant in the room that, evidently, was only peculiar to Arthur. And he didn't understand it. Didn't know if he wanted to understand it.
And his stupid thoughts were confusing him again.
Arthur picked up a piece of pork and popped it into his mouth, chewing completely before saying, “That’s a ridiculous shirt."
Arthur actually happened to like Merlin’s shirt for once, but really needed something to say. Something to take his mind of all his confusing thoughts and feelings.
Merlin looked down and frowned. “This shirt is awesome," he said, pointing with his chop sticks. Merlin liked to do that. Chopsticks, forks, pizza - all of it was acceptable pointing material as far as Merlin was concerned. “I’ve had it for probably ten years!"
Arthur rolled his eyes. “It looks like it, too."
Merlin smirked. “You’re just jealous."
“Stolen from Mr. G’s Furniture, Merlin?" Arthur snorted. “Really?" Merlin looked up at him and grinned and Arthur did his best to not smile back. “That’s about the lamest t-shirt I’ve ever seen you wear... and you wear some lame shirts."
“I know I’ve said this before," Merlin said, “tonight I think I’ve said it twice already, but you are such a prat." He smiled cheekily and then grabbed a crab rangoon from the box.
Arthur swallowed hard around a lump in his throat as he watched Merlin’s mouth wrap around a corner of the rangoon. Damn Merlin for being so adorable, even when he was eating (damn Merlin for everything that he was!) “Where did you get it?" Arthur asked to hopefully take away from the fact that he was staring openly, and inwardly berated himself when his voice broke.
Merlin gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes, but Arthur saw the twinkle in them. “I’d thought that was obvious," he replied, swallowing the food in his mouth and gesturing down to the front of his shirt. Arthur just lifted a brow, anticipation at Merlin’s answer - knowing it was going to be a good one. “Stolen," Merlin smirked, “from Mr. G’s Furniture."
Arthur nearly dropped his dinner on the floor when his head tipped back and he laughed.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Summary: Modern AU. Sometimes the road to love is paved in ridiculous, if not somewhat awkward Facebook and Twitter posts, far too many pop culture references than are strictly necessary, nosy supporting cast members with insanely large personalities, the establishment of “Comfy Couch of Cuddles and Conversations", and a little bit of liquid courage. Call it a bonus when destiny lives next door. Loosely based on this KMM prompt.
Part 4
And that was how it had all started. What it was, Merlin hadn’t quite decided yet, but there it was... staring him in the face. And, if he had to give it a title, well then Merlin figured it was the beginning of friendship.
Because somewhere between opening the door for Arthur that first night, meeting Gwen the next morning (and falling immediately and deeply in love with her - he was sure that’s what it was... love... epic, platonic love) and spending almost as much, if not more, time with those two than he spent with his own two best friends, Merlin was finding that they were all becoming friends (except Arthur and Will - Gwaine sure had called that one).
If he weren’t so inexplicably horrified by the idea, Merlin might actually find the excitement in it.
He’d even been introduced to Morgana (heaven help him, she was scary in an a strangely alluring way) and Leon, who were pretty excited to make his acquaintance. Merlin wasn’t even sure why, but Leon had muttered something about “not being his usual type" and “didn’t see that one coming" all while shaking Merlin’s hand vigorously and welcoming him into the “group".
Merlin hadn’t known there was a group, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Gwen and Arthur were definitely a group kind of couple. And since Morgana was Arthur’s brother and Gwen was Morgana’s best friend and Leon was Arthur’s best friend and Leon was also Morgana’s boyfriend (Merlin Emrys is confused.), they were definitely a tight-knit group. Honestly, Merlin didn’t expect to just slide into it.
(Un)fortunately that was exactly what had happened. Gwaine, of course, thought it was all sorts of special. He’d been going on and on about “Arthur and Merlin’s undeniable love affair" for the last month. Every time he’d come from from spending another Saturday out with Gwen (they really enjoyed going to see a movie, followed up by coffee and scones, and then a walk through the park on the way home), Gwaine would comment on how he’d seen Arthur out in the back garden, pouting.
Merlin had scoffed the first time he’d said that and said, “If that’s true, Gwaine, which I’m sure it isn’t, then he was only pouting because his girlfriend is out with another man."
Gwaine’s response had been a loud, “HA!" followed by several loud and off-key versus of Tonight I Wanna Cry by Keith Urban. Damn Americans.
Will, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy with Merlin and his new found friendships. And though his reasons were flimsy - for example, “Gwen is ridiculously perky, Merlin. Perky and bouncy and... you can’t trust perky, bouncy people." (Merlin had nearly died from laughter) - Merlin knew that Will was really just worried about him getting attached to a straight man (that he admittedly had a mild crush on) and his girlfriend. It had happened to Merlin more times than he ever wanted to admit aloud, and he appreciated Will’s concern.
But Merlin just liked both of them way too much. He was spending ridiculous amounts of time with Gwen because she was just marvelous, and by extension, he’d spent quite a few days out with Morgana, as well. And nearly every Sunday Merlin had met Arthur in the front yards getting the paper (amongst other nearly daily meetings before and after work - it was like they had the same schedule or something). Each conversation had become less and less strained, until the last week when Arthur had actually laughed out loud at one of Merlin’s lame jokes and thumped him on the back.
And that was how Merlin found himself staring at Arthur’s Facebook page, reading and re-reading his info and quote (Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle. -Abraham Lincoln) and contemplating the repercussions of pressing the “Add as Friend" button. To him, it seemed like they were friends, so adding him as a friend on Facebook just seemed like the natural progression of things.
Gwen had added him the day before. Within ten minutes of him accepting her friend request, she’d written on his wall:
After he’d very unsuccessfully tried to get out of this photo shoot she was determined to have, he’d gone and spent the next fifteen minutes scouring her page. The first thing he noticed was that she didn’t have a relationship status. It was... strange. Of course, Merlin knew lots of people who didn’t have their relationship status updated on Facebook, but he was still shocked to see that Gwen’s was just... missing.
After that he looked over the rest of her information, including her quote by Marilyn Monroe: “If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything." He thought it was wildly appropriate. Once he was sure he couldn’t avoid it any longer, he went and dug through her photos. Gwen was, surprisingly, not big on uploading photos. The little icon next to the Photos link said she was tagged in 157 pictures, but weren’t public. However, he could see her profile pictures and a couple of others of she, Morgana, Leon and Arthur. The group.
Merlin sighed and stared at his cursor hovering over the “Add as Friend" button for another moment. Finally, biting the bullet, he pressed the left button on his mouse and prayed that Arthur would at least consider it.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur’s morning routine was thrown off slightly when he opened his Facebook account and saw that he had a new friend request.
From Merlin.
He stared for a long time at the Confirm button before clicking over to the link to his page instead. Of course, Merlin was one of those guys who had his Facebook page locked up tighter than a drum. Not that Arthur had any room to talk. The only thing a non-friend could see on Arthur’s page was his name and profile picture. Merlin’s was slightly more lax, considering he could see that he lived in Camelot, grew up in Ealdor and was currently single. He could also see that they had one mutual friend (Gwen, of course).
Scrolling through, Merlin had left some of his interests open, which included The Smiths (Arthur wasn’t surprised), football, coaching and a slew of other random things that seemed very... Merlin. Arthur noted that Merlin was tagged in 198 pictures, but could only see his current profile picture from his main page: a simple picture of himself, smiling like a lunatic. Considering who Merlin’s friends were, Arthur figured it was best that no one could see the additional pictures of Merlin. I’m sure the school wouldn’t be happy to have his students see pictures of Will, Gwaine and Merlin drunk and disorderly.
Arthur closed down his Facebook page and opened his email. He knew that he would probably (eventually?) confirm Merlin as a friend. He was just still feeling really weird about things with him and didn’t want to seem too eager. As it was, he had almost added Merlin as a friend the day before when he’d seen that Gwen was now friends with him. He knew then that it was only a matter of time before Merlin and Morgana were friends, and then Merlin would be friends with Leon. Arthur really didn’t want to be the last one to add him, making him look like some sort of prat or something.
And that actually made him sound prattish. Arthur shook his head. He actually really liked Merlin. A lot. But it was confusing, because it was so much more than liking him as a friend. And, as he’d explained to himself (and everyone else who seemed to have an opinion on the matter), Merlin was not his type. Not even a little bit. So, of course, he didn’t - couldn’t - actually like Merlin. It was pretty obvious to Arthur that he was in desperate need of a new girl/boyfriend.
Or a regular sex partner.
Yeah, Arthur would take a regular sex partner. No strings. Just sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Arthur stared at his email inbox, but didn’t really see the words. He was daydreaming about all the sex he could be having with his imaginary, emotions-free partner that was going to materialize her/himself any moment. Arthur was ashamed to admit that his trousers were tight just imagining the kind of fun he could have in his office alone. With all the relationships he’d been in and all the sex he’d had since losing his virginity at fifteen, Arthur had never had sex in his office. Even when he was dating someone from the office. Office sex was sounding better every moment.
He sat back in his chair a bit and cautioned a glance at his half-closed door. No one was due into the office for at least another half hour, so... well, Arthur felt it would be safe to... indulge a moment.
His fantasy partner continuously slipped from a long and leggy woman to a tall and muscular man and back, both nameless and faceless and extremely satisfying, as he slouched a bit in his chair and let his legs fall open. The first touch had made a shiver run down his spine. The second stroke, only a little harder, was far less tentative and made his cock jump in excitement. By the time Arthur pressed down a third time, his cock was straining against his zipper and his fantasy partner was carefully pushing it down.
Arthur unbuttoned his trousers and then pushed the zipper down, the tip of his throbbing cock peeking out through the top of his boxers, glistening. He pushed down the waistband of his boxers until they lodged behind his balls and pressured everything upwards, making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.
Fantasy partner wrapped their hand tightly around his cock and started rubbing in earnest almost immediately, and so did Arthur. He kept the same rushed and thorough rhythm until his hips were bucking forward to meet his palm, sweat was beading on his forehead and he was gasping in between thrusts, trying not to be too loud.
Just as Fantasy Partner decided to lean down and swipe his tongue across the head of his cock, Arthur realized that Fantasy Partner had turned into Merlin - thin, long fingers, skinny neck, big blue eyes and ears. The wanton look on his face as his pink tongue peeked out from between his pretty lips and touched the tip to Arthur’s head, Arthur came hard. His head tipped back and he nearly cried out Merlin’s name loud and clear, but regained enough sense to only allow it to tumble from his lips in a gentle rumble.
Quick and angry, Arthur grabbed a handful of tissue from his desk and cleaned himself up. “Fantastic," Arthur mumbled to himself, tossing the tissues in the bin beside his desk and redoing his trousers hastily. It was bad enough Merlin had featured in nearly all his nighttime dreams for the last month, but apparently he was going to be the face Arthur saw in his daydreams. “Fan-fucking-tastic."
Giving himself a quick look over just in case someone had snuck into the office early, Arthur got up from his desk and walked out toward the loo to clean up a bit. As the fresh, cool air of the outer office hit his olfactory senses, Arthur realized that he needed to clear out the heavy smell of sex (masturbatory sex, Arthur thought, rolling his eyes). He’d need to light that stupid, flowery candle Vivian insisted he keep in his office. She said it brought ambiance. What the fuck did he need ambiance in his office for? (Masturbatory sex, he thought again.)
When he’d cleaned himself up in the loo - which had included straightening his tie, flattening his hair in the back and tucking in his shirt - he walked purposefully back into his office. Once inside, he made sure the door was open wide to let in some fresh air, lit the bloody candle and sat back down at his desk. Minimizing his email, he opened Facebook again and stared at his friends requests. “Merlin Stupid Face Emrys," he said eloquently and shook his head.
He clicked “Confirm Friend".
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
As much time as Merlin had spent with Gwen in the last two and a half months - which was a ridiculous amount that he could only justify because he loved her in a strictly I think you’re amazing, but totally don’t want to have sex with you because I’m gay sort of way - he had never been inside hers and Arthur’s flat. She had been inside his and Will’s many times. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure how or why it had happened that way, but he had an inkling that it had something to do with his not wanting to be in Arthur’s domain with Arthur’s woman and his feelings that he had for Arthur.
They were a lot of feelings.
Stupid feelings.
So the first time Merlin stepped into Arthur and Gwen’s flat, he was instantly hyper aware of the fact that he had crossed into enemy territory (Merlin Emrys isn’t enemies with anyone really.)
However, he got over the immediate feeling fairly quickly because his next astonished thought was, Holy hell, it’s our flat in reverse. As if it wouldn’t be anyway. It wasn’t like they didn’t live in the same row of houses, built by the same contruction firm in the same year, or anything. Merlin Emrys is slow. Merlin’s thoughts were all sorts of ridiculous (yes, even the non-first person ones).
His third thought was, “Oh my god, you live in the Land of Giant Sofas."
Gwen looked at him and grinned. “Eeeeeee! I love that," she squealed. “We are totally calling it that from now on. I’ll tell Arthur when he gets home."
Merlin was suddenly reminded that he was, in fact, inside Arthur’s flat. He fought the urge to run back out screaming, “I swear I’m not trying to stalk you!"
“But it’s lovely, isn’t it?" Gwen said, interrupting his thoughts, and then tacking on quite quickly and in that rushed voice that she used when she was sure she was being rude, “Not that your furniture isn’t lovely, or anything. I mean, you furniture is fabulous. It’s old and worn." Merlin looked over and saw her eyes bulge comically. “Not that old and worn aren’t good things, of course! Especially when I’m talking about your furniture. Because I do absolutely love your furniture."
Amused, Merlin put up his hand to stop her rambling, a smile on his face. “Yes, I know how you feel about my old, worn furniture," he said, teasing her. When she grinned back, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’d like to explore your Land of the Giant Sofas now, Lady Guinevere."
Merlin had gone about calling Gwen Lady Guinevere after he teased her about her and Arthur having such famously historical names. She had tried to protest that it was just coincidence and really didn’t mean a thing, but Merlin got a kick out of seeing her squirm (even if it hurt his heart a little to think about them actually being destined for each other). She’d eventually quit arguing with him when he’d said he could call her Her Majesty Queen Guinevere. Evidently, Lady was far more appropriate.
Gwen grinned, slipped her arm around Merlin’s waist and started walking him toward their living room. They stopped in somewhere near the centre of the room and Merlin could only stare at the massive black and white plaid couch, love seat, chair and ottoman occupying their living room.
“They’re brand new for the new flat," she said. “Arthur said, ‘New home, new furniture, new beginning,’ so this is what we got." Merlin’s heart clenched a bit just thinking of the conversations they must have had leading up to purchasing this new place together. Nope, Merlin Emrys is done thinking about that!
Gwen grabbed Merlin’s hand and pulled him along. “They are so comfy, that you instantly want to fall asleep in them when you sit down." She cocked her head to the side and grinned. “Kind of like your furniture."
Merlin laughed. “Only in giant size!"
Gwen giggled as she pushed him into the centre of the sofa, before sidling up next to him and setting her head on his shoulder. He was so distracted by the soft, plush couch enveloping him in a hug like a long-lost friend, that he almost forgot all about his promise to himself that he wouldn’t be too outwardly affection with Gwen when he was in their flat. Just in case Arthur came home and caught them, thinking that Merlin was only using Gwen to get to him somehow. Merlin had a slightly flawed outlook of this weird relationship, he knew, but it was because he really didn’t want to have all these feelings and spent most of his time utterly confused about everything.
Merlin shook his head and tilted his head back against the couch. He was too tired to think about all this right then. It had been a crazy week at school with a few large tests coming up and longer football practices to get ready for a big game that weekend. On top of that, he’d picked up two additional tutees in each chemistry and maths.
He really hadn’t been awake enough, nor interested in going out that day, but it was becoming tradition for him to spend Saturdays with Gwen and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Her disappointment face was like watching someone bury their puppy. Merlin would not be responsible for that face.
“You’re a little bony, Merlin," she said, her voice a little sleepy as she managed to puff up the sleeve of his hoodie to create a cushion. “You should work on that."
Merlin just grunted in assent, pretty sure she hadn’t been actually seeking an answer and started to feel himself relax completely for the first time in the last two weeks. Sleep was imminent.
Merlin looked down at the top of Gwen’s dark, curly head and tried to remember how the process of speech worked. He wanted to tell her that he should probably just call it a day and head home. He wanted to tell her that he was just ridiculously tired and he wasn’t going to be anymore fun for the rest of the day. He wanted to thank her for getting him out of the house earlier, though, and that he really enjoyed all the time they spent together. He wanted to reiterate how much her friendship meant to him.
Unfortunately, the couch was swallowing him up and coaxing his tired body into a nap he wasn’t ready to take and, against his will and better judgement, his eyes started to drift shut.
When he unconsciously hummed in happiness a moment later, Gwen responded with a chuckle and a hmmm of her own. And just as he was about to fall asleep, Merlin managed to say, “Remind me, when I wake up, that I need a flag." Gwen’s answering hum lifted at the end like a question, so Merlin explained, “I want to stick it in the middle of this mystical Land of Giant Sofas and proclaim it my territory."
Gwen wasn’t sleepy enough to stop her from laughing out loud.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur was packing up his desk and shutting down his computer when Morgana strode into his office. At the same time Vivian’s voice came over his intercom, clipped and annoyed that Morgana hadn’t waited to be announced, “Ms. Pendragon is here to see you."
Rolling his eyes, Arthur pushed down the button to respond, “So I see. Thank you, Viv. You can head home now."
Morgana looked from his hands, which were busy shoving files and loose papers into his satchel, to the giant clock that sat high behind his desk and back again. “Where are you going?" she asked.
“It’s Thursday," Arthur responded simply. It had been four months since Gwen and Arthur had moved into their new flat and four months since he’d walked across their yards to borrow menus from Merlin. In those four months, they had gradually (much slower than Merlin and Gwen) become friends who spent actual time together outside of the occasional chat over the Sunday paper in the yard.
It had started when Gwen had asked Merlin over one night when both Will and Gwaine had been out for the evening and Gwen didn’t want him to have to eat alone. They were only getting Chinese take-away - nothing fancy - but Gwen had felt bad for him. Arthur figured that maybe Merlin would actually like to have some time away from his crazy, loud, obnoxious friends for a change. But he’d not argued with Gwen and had gone over to Merlin’s to ask.
Of course, when Merlin had said he’d love to, Arthur figured it was probably because he couldn’t tell Gwen no and disappoint her, not because he actually wanted to spend time with them. It was like looking at someone burying their puppy when Gwen was disappointed. No one wanted to cause that - or see it, for that matter.
And after that first night, which had been a surprisingly good time, Gwen had gotten in the habit of asking Merlin over once a week when she knew he was alone. On the fourth week of this, however, Gwen had been kept at work extra late each night with a special, full-time patient at the therapy clinic (Gwen specialized in children’s art therapy). Arthur had hemmed and hawed over whether or not he should ask Merlin over that Thursday evening, when he knew he was alone again.
He was still struggling with his feelings for Merlin and, even though he really liked him as person - as a friend - he didn’t know if he could trust himself with Merlin without Gwen there as a buffer. He didn’t want to have feelings for Merlin and when those intense moments of denial inevitably hit, Arthur couldn’t be held responsible for his response, no matter how over the top (and potentially hurtful) it might be.
Finally he had sucked it and asked him to come over, explaining that Gwen wasn’t going to be around, but it was pizza night and he needed to make sure Merlin was there to keep him from eating the whole thing. Arthur tried to forget the way Merlin had chewed on his bottom lip, looking thoughtful with his brow wrinkled and maybe a little skittish, before smiling gently and following him over.
Arthur would like to say that it hadn’t been awkward, but it had been. But only for a short time. And by the time Gwen had made it back to the flat, he and Merlin were laughing loudly at Wedding Crashers and sharing a bowl of popcorn.
And after that night, Gwen stopped joining them for dinner, saying that Arthur deserved a night out without her every once in a while (“It’s not like we’re dating, Arthur. We don’t have to spend all our time together.") and made sure she had plans.
Morgana looked back at the clock again, like it would confirm for her that it was, in fact, Thursday and then back to Arthur, who was pulling off his tie and folding it perfectly to place in his satchel. He shrugged into his suit jacket.
“Yes," she said, sounding confused. “I know it’s Thursday. That doesn’t explain to me why you’re leaving the office nearly an hour before you usually do."
Arthur fixed the collar of his shirt and then gave his sister an exasperated look. “I have dinner plans."
And it was like a light bulb went off over Morgana’s head. “Dinner plans," she said, smirking. “Dinner plans."
Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes again and grabbed his satchel to put over his shoulder. “Yes," he said, exasperated. “And I need to be going, or I’ll be late."
He started toward the door, ready to brush past Morgana and any of the questions she might have that would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable. Instead, Leon popped his head inside and grinned. “Mr. Knight," Vivian’s agitated voice came from his intercom. Arthur didn’t grace her with a response.
“Did you ask him?" Leon asked Morgana, before coming fully inside the door and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Morgana looked annoyed at the affection, but Arthur knew better. She secretly loved the attention, as long as it came from Leon.
“Ask me what?" Arthur asked, looking back at the clock and seeing that if their conversation took much longer, he was going to be late. He hated being late. Even if it was only to dinner with Merlin.
Morgana answered, “I didn’t get a chance. He has plans anyway."
“Plans?" Leon looked at Arthur, confusion on his big, scruffy face and then, “OH!" Leon smirked and Arthur scowled. “Plaaaaaans." Arthur watched Leon nod his head knowingly and wanted to smack him with his satchel.
Instead, he sighed heavily and said, “What were you going to ask me?"
Morgana waved her hand at him flippantly and shrugged. “Nothing." Arthur did roll his eyes that time and Morgana elaborated, “Just wanted to see if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight."
Arthur smiled at his sister, genuinely happy that they’d thought of him for dinner. He’d been working so many hours lately trying to publicly smooth over all the issues they’d been having with Morgause (things were so not getting better on that front), that he hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with them outside of work. Maybe that was why Arthur had been making it a point to have dinner with Merlin each week; he needed some social interaction and normalcy in his life.
“I appreciate the offer," Arthur said and adjusted his satchel. When Morgana rolled his eyes, he grinned even wider. “Really, I do. Why don’t we make plans for this weekend?" he asked, moving closer to them. “Get some fresh air at the park, or something, and some dinner."
Leon grinned and slapped his free hand against Arthur’s back. “I think that sounds like a great idea, mate!"
“We should invite those neighbours of yours, as well," Morgana added, all exasperated fondness for her brother gone, only to be replaced by her all-knowing smirk.
Arthur shook his. “I’ll ask tonight."
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Merlin had never been a fan of the man capri look and had never seen anyone, outside of Zac Efron (Merlin Emrys will never admit to watching High School Musical. One, two or three. Thankyouverymuch.), who could pull them off. That was, of course, until he’d met Arthur.
Merlin had been slightly shocked when he’d wandered over to Arthur’s that evening, knocked on the door, and Arthur had answered in something other than his work clothes. Of course, Merlin had seen Arthur in more casual attire before - he favored jeans, polo shirts and trainers, Merlin had noted - but that was mostly on the weekends. On the nights Merlin showed up for dinner (or when Merlin insisted Arthur just come over to his house because it was only fair), Arthur usually wore his work clothes - shirt untucked, slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled and tie missing.
He would never admit it aloud, but Merlin was highly attracted to that look.
However, this new one was definitely a contender.
Arthur busied himself in the kitchen gathering up silverware, napkins and plates, while Merlin sat at the counter watching. He had quickly found out that Arthur absolutely refused to eat out of take away boxes, even when sat in front of the television during meals. When Merlin had asked why, Arthur had rolled his eyes and haughtily replied, “Because, Merlin. Eating from boxes is the most uncivilized form of food consumption. Ever.". Merlin nearly snorted aloud again at the memory, but refrained - only just - and allowed himself to examine Arthur’s very delectable backside.
Merlin decided that Arthur looked good in his blue-khaki man capris, dark gray v-neck t-shirt and navy Sperry thongs. It was a more relaxed look than he was used to seeing him in and it suited him. Add in the fact that his hair was tousled like he’d run his hands through it a million times during the day and he looked downright shaggable. Not that he didn’t alwayslook shaggable, of course, Merlin thought. It just wasn’t fair for anyone to be as gorgeous as Arthur.
And why did Merlin have to have this impossible crush on Arthur anyway? It was one thing that he’d have a crush on a straight man (because that had happened more often than not), but why did he have to be practically in love with Gwen’s boyfriend? And why did he, all of a sudden, spend more time with Gwen’s boyfriend than Gwen did? It had been the other way around not a couple of weeks ago. He still spent time with Gwen, of course - ridiculous amounts of time that included their traditional Saturday together - but lately Merlin had been spending large chunks of time with Arthur, sans Gwen.
But even then, the time they did spend together with Gwen wasn’t even remotely awkward. Gwen and Arthur had the most ridiculous relationship Merlin had ever seen. They were touchy-feely, but never anything more than Gwen was with Merlin. He would even say that Gwen was more touchy-feely with Merlin than she was with her own boyfriend. On top of that, they never kissed in front of him; they just seemed to lack any knowledge of PDA.
OR! What if they only refrained from kissing in front of him because they both knew he had a gigantic crush on Arthur and they didn’t want him to feel weird? Merlin felt ill at the mere thought and had to consciously keep himself in his seat, rather than follow instinct and run back home, never to be seen by his evil neighbours ever again.
Merlin Emrys is overly dramatic.
What it all came down to was that the whole thing was just so bloody confusing. Sure, Merlin would say that he and Arthur were friends. And he agreed with Gwen that Arthur didn’t need to spend every waking hour with her (even if his opinion was biased in his own favour). It seemed Arthur was happy to have some “guy" time anyway.
Just... well, sometimes it made Merlin wonder. Arthur and Gwen both spent more time with Merlin than they spent with each other. What in the world did that mean?
And that, right there, was a really bad idea. Wondering. Thinking. All of it led to hoping and that was just not something Merlin needed to put on his own shoulders right now.
Or ever, if he could help it.
Breaking from his reverie, Merlin watched Arthur reach up into the cupboard to pull down a couple of glasses (“We don’t drink beer out of the bottle at meal times, Merlin.") and noted the way his t-shirt pulled tight across his strong back, muscles rippling. It took a lot of effort to keep the moan from escaping his lips. A small breath may have escaped, but he was sure it was quiet.
Arthur decided then was a good time to look over his shoulder and smirk.
“You’re ridiculously quiet tonight, Merlin," Arthur said, setting the two glasses down beside their plates. “I figured you’d be prattling on and on as usual about your girls and their awesomeness, or all those things related to Chemistry that I only pretend to care about and understand." Merlin rolled his eyes. “It is Thursday, after all."
“You’re a right prat, you know that?" Merlin asked, not at all upset by Arthur’s jab. He never seemed to actually get mad at Arthur. Merlin was starting to wonder if he even knew how. “Complete tosser."
Arthur laughed while the door bell rang, walking off to answer it. “That’s better," he called.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Merlin looked like a geek, as usual. But damn him if he didn’t look like a cute geek.
Arthur had never met another man who could pull off men’s skinny jeans like Merlin could. As Merlin was sitting cross-legged on the couch, his skinny jeans were sitting impossibly low on his thin hips, never held up by a belt and always looked close to falling off, bare feet and a ridiculous black t-shirt, ragged and frayed at the ends, with the words Stolen From Mr. G’s Furniture in faded red lettering, he looked like some kid who had just finished his A-levels, not a uni graduate and fully-fledged teacher.
Well, with the exception of his five o’clock shadow that, for some reason, made Arthur’s belly turn to gelatin. Stupid Merlin and his stupid stubble, anyway. Arthur poked angrily at his dinner and pretended he wasn’t pouting.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m pretty sure your dinner didn’t do it," Merlin commented, pointing at Arthur with his chopsticks before grabbing a piece of spicy chicken and popping it into his mouth. “Besides, it’s already dead," he added around a mouthful of food. “Poking it isn’t going to do much."
Damn, he’d been caught. Fuck. “Sorry," Arthur replied, not exactly sure if he was apologizing to Merlin over his attitude or the moo shu pork he was trying to destroy.
Merlin shrugged at him and smiled at him, making Arthur’s stomach flip-flop a little bit. “You should be apologizing to your dinner. I’m sure it’s very sad."
Arthur tried not to grin back at Merlin, but even his lame attempts at comedy seemed to be golden. The truth was, Arthur wasn’t mad or annoyed with Merlin at all. It wasn’t like it was Merlin’s fault Arthur was confused about all his feelings.
He hadn’t been able to get Morgana’s smirk and Leon’s grin out of his head since he’d left the office. His whole ride home had been tense and uncomfortable. All because he, apparently, had a crush on his ridiculous neighbour and his ears. And everyone seemed to bloody know about it, even when Arthur wasn't entirely sure he was okay with it! It was turning into the giant pink elephant in the room that, evidently, was only peculiar to Arthur. And he didn't understand it. Didn't know if he wanted to understand it.
And his stupid thoughts were confusing him again.
Arthur picked up a piece of pork and popped it into his mouth, chewing completely before saying, “That’s a ridiculous shirt."
Arthur actually happened to like Merlin’s shirt for once, but really needed something to say. Something to take his mind of all his confusing thoughts and feelings.
Merlin looked down and frowned. “This shirt is awesome," he said, pointing with his chop sticks. Merlin liked to do that. Chopsticks, forks, pizza - all of it was acceptable pointing material as far as Merlin was concerned. “I’ve had it for probably ten years!"
Arthur rolled his eyes. “It looks like it, too."
Merlin smirked. “You’re just jealous."
“Stolen from Mr. G’s Furniture, Merlin?" Arthur snorted. “Really?" Merlin looked up at him and grinned and Arthur did his best to not smile back. “That’s about the lamest t-shirt I’ve ever seen you wear... and you wear some lame shirts."
“I know I’ve said this before," Merlin said, “tonight I think I’ve said it twice already, but you are such a prat." He smiled cheekily and then grabbed a crab rangoon from the box.
Arthur swallowed hard around a lump in his throat as he watched Merlin’s mouth wrap around a corner of the rangoon. Damn Merlin for being so adorable, even when he was eating (damn Merlin for everything that he was!) “Where did you get it?" Arthur asked to hopefully take away from the fact that he was staring openly, and inwardly berated himself when his voice broke.
Merlin gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes, but Arthur saw the twinkle in them. “I’d thought that was obvious," he replied, swallowing the food in his mouth and gesturing down to the front of his shirt. Arthur just lifted a brow, anticipation at Merlin’s answer - knowing it was going to be a good one. “Stolen," Merlin smirked, “from Mr. G’s Furniture."
Arthur nearly dropped his dinner on the floor when his head tipped back and he laughed.
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