See-Saws: Part 3 (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 3
Arthur’s eyes closed.
He would like to say that he wasn’t absolutely exhausted due to packing, moving, sorting and (sort of, but not really) unpacking boxes all day. After all, he was a religious gym nut, which he managed to fit into his schedule even though he worked ridiculous hours all the time, and fucking fit - there’s really no denying it - so he shouldn’t be exhausted at all. A little bit of manual labor did a body good.
However, the truth was that he would have no problem curling himself up onto their new and ridiculously expensive couch that was far too comfy for words - and no, he would not be admitting that to Morgana, especially after the epic fit he threw about how much it cost (even if she did concede that the flower pattern was far from aesthetically pleasing and let him purchase the one in black instead) - and dying.
Of course, Arthur knew he was too young and too gorgeous to die, but he couldn’t help thinking that it would be a peaceful and relaxed death, anyway.
Not for the first time that day, he had cursed himself for going out with Morgana and Gwen two nights prior and then working overtime the next night after only an hour of sleep. What in the world had he been thinking? He liked to think that he was pretty much capable of doing anything, but he wasn’t Superman. Even if he would look pretty spectacular in blue and red spandex.
"Pendragon!” Arthur’s eyes flew open and it took a moment for him to focus on Leon, Morgana’s other half and his, loathe to admit it, best mate. "Get your lazy arse up and help me move this ostentatious atrocity inside.”
Arthur glared at him. "It’s better than the one your girlfriend picked out. And really, those are some pretty big words, you great giant oaf,” he said, but got off the couch anyway. "I do so hope that you choke on one some day soon.”
Leon grinned his goofy grin. "Well, something else you can blame on Morgana,” he said, far too happy for Arthur’s liking. "It’s that damn Word of the Day desk calendar she got me for Christmas. I’m so enamored by her, I check it constantly and use the words religiously just because I know it’ll make her happy,” he said, before looking thoughtful. "I do tend to forget she said that my grammar and vocabulary were barely above that of a primate’s, so it was imperative that I use it.” Leon shook his head. "It’s more romantic if I just ignore that part.”
Arthur snorted. "Yes, because when I think of Morgana,” he said, "I definitely use the adjective romantic.” He rolled his eyes and watched Leon’s grin get even dopier. "And don’t pretend like you’re enamored by her. She’s an evil harpy and we both know it. Let’s call it what it is, shall we? You’re enamored by her breasts. They are dangerous, dark weapons, Knight. You need to just let it go.”
Leon was pensive for a moment, as if Arthur might have actually unleashed the powers of the universe with that one statement, but finally shook his head again. "No, those are definitely nice,” he said, "but I’m about ninety-eight percent sure I’m in love with her because of, well, her.”
"Only ninety-eight percent?” Arthur asked. "What about the other two percent?”
Leon grinned. "I save those for her breasts. One percent for each.”
"You are a disturbed man, Leon. Disturbed.” Arthur shook his head and started walking toward the cab of the truck. "And for that, you get to stand down there on the ground and hold this, as you so elegantly put it, atrocity, while I push it off the truck.”
Leon rolled his eyes, but hopped off the bed of the truck anyway. "You’re an arse-face, Pendragon,” he said, with little heat.
"And you’re an enormous, soppy ogre. I’d say that makes us right about even, mate.”
"Colourful,” Leon laughed and let out an oomph when Arthur pushed the sofa off the end of the truck bed and into his waiting (though obviously unprepared) arms.
Arthur grinned and pushed again. "I have my own desk calendar: Insults of the Day.” Leon laughed so hard he nearly dropped the couch.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur was trying to reacquaint himself with the sofa a few hours later (and quite possibly dying - it was still an option, he was sure), when Gwen collapsed beside him and proceeded to drape herself across his lap. The arm she had cushioned under her head was digging into his groin and it was far too uncomfortable for his liking, but he couldn’t be arsed to move himself or her. His arms were protesting their mere existence and his back was likely going to be hunched for the rest of his life, so really. Why cause himself anymore torture? And no, he was not being melodramatic.
"Kill me,” she mumbled into his thigh, right above his knee. "Just end it now. Please.” Now Gwen? Yeah, she was being melodramatic. "I can’t move. My body is on fire and I’m pretty sure I found muscles today that no other person has.”
Arthur’s only response was a small grunt, his eyes drifting closed once more as Gwen rambled on.
"They will write books about me,” she said, the hand not under her head coming up to rest on his other knee. "I will be studied and prodded and tested all because I have these muscles that don’t exist in other humans. They’ll call me a freak or an alien or something like that and then put me on display. It will be horrible. So, if you ever had the slightest feeling for me, Arthur, you’ll just end it all right now.”
"I’m pretty sure that won’t happen, Gwen,” Arthur responded. "Likely because you don’t have these strange, alien muscles you claim to have.”
Gwen lifted her head a fraction, as if she were going to turn and glare at him in her not-so-scary Gwen Glare, but thought better of it and set her head back down. "They will,” she said, adamantly. "And I do. Don’t mock me, Arthur Pendragon.”
"My apologies.” Arthur tried to lift his hand to pat her comfortingly on the back, but it still wasn’t cooperating. "You should have just moved into my old flat, Gwen. It would have been a million times easier.”
"I do believe you’re exaggerating. A million is far too big a number,” Gwen said, her voice sounding sleepy. He could sympathize. "And no, moving into your one-bedroom flat would not have been easier.”
Arthur attempted a shrug, but it wasn’t happening either. It didn’t matter; Gwen wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. "We would have been cosy.”
Gwen just chuckled. "Hmm, keep telling yourself that.”
He was finally able to lift his left arm and put it up on her back, rubbing small circles and he heard her hum her appreciation. "I will,” he mumbled. "You know, we could have, at the very least, had the new furniture delivered, rather than doing it ourselves.” And that shit was heavy, he added in his head, because he’d never admit it aloud.
At that moment, Leon slid down onto the couch to his left and let out a groan of pleasure. He felt Gwen shift her weight slightly, more pressure added to his groin (OW!) before she moved her arm completely away from it (Thank everything that is holy!), as she moved her legs up onto Leon’s lap and snuggled down further into Arthur’s thigh. "I’m not entirely sure how you let Morgana talk you into that either,” he said. "You could have purchased a small car for the price you paid for this stuff. Why not fork out another couple hundred pounds to have it delivered?”
Arthur was just about to reply with a half-arsed snide comment of his own, when Morgana said, "Because Arthur is a stubborn mule, that’s why,” from somewhere directly behind him.
Arthur really wanted to comment, but considering Morgana was right, he decided it would be best to avoid any petty arguments. Especially since he just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.
Morgana flopped down to Arthur’s right and slipped her arm through his before setting her head on his shoulder. Arthur could only imagine how cosy they must look, all scrunched together on the new and - still not telling Morgana - amazing couch. Too bad he could will his eyes open to see it.
He felt Morgana sigh against his neck. "He’s still a pretty decent brother, though.”
Arthur grunted, but felt a muscle in his cheek involuntarily twitch and lift his mouth into a half-smile. "Love you, too, Morgana,” he said and linked their fingers together.
They were all exhausted; it was evident in their lacklustre tone of voice, so when the natural quiet came over them, Arthur was certain he would be asleep in a few short minutes.
Of course, that’s when Gwen said, in a not-so-convincing tone, "We should start unpacking.”
Each of them, Gwen included (like she couldn’t believe the words had come from her mouth), groaned, "Tomorrow!” and unconsciously hunkered down further into the couch. Sweet silence enveloped them again almost instantly and Arthur found himself praying to every imaginable Higher Power that there would be no more talking.
He cursed the heavens when Morgana opened her trap. "Let’s go out and celebrate your new place instead.” And for Morgana, who holds nothing but the utmost respect for partying, to use her signature Tone of Indifference that was saved for everything except partying, Arthur knew she wasn’t exactly excited about the idea either. So, when no one responded - negatively or positively, he knew his couch sitting was safe.
However, not allowing himself to get his hopes up, Arthur kept himself awake for a full five minutes after Morgana’s lame excuse for motivation. When no one said a word, and he was nearly certain they were all on the fringe of sleep, Arthur decided it was safe to slip into full unconsciousness. His mind drifted and became fuzzy as he focused on the even inhale and exhale of his breath.
Just one. more. minute.
"We should order food,” Leon announced, though admittedly in a voice just above a whisper.
If it didn’t require so much effort, Arthur would have smacked Leon flush across his scruffy, little face. But, as it stood, he was right. Because in that next moment Arthur’s stomach growled. And then, as if in a chain of yawns, Gwen’s rumbled and Morgana’s quaked. But the icing on the cake was Leon’s, which was so intense, it actually shook the couch.
There was nothing left to do, but fall into a fit of overly-exhausted giggles. And those giggles turned into chuckles. And chuckles into full belly laughs that eventually led to wiping tears from their eyes. It had been a long time since Arthur had laughed that hard. He’d missed it, so he laughed harder.
When everyone had finally calmed down and settled back into the couch in a comfy cluster of limbs, Arthur tried to remember the last time any of them had eaten. Other than the occasional protein bar and bottle of water that he had seen each of them eat at some point or another, breakfast had been their last real meal.
Of course, that was a loose interpretation of the coffee, tea and donuts Leon and Morgana had brought with them to Arthur’s old flat, along with Gwen and all her worldly possessions, to start the epic day of moving.
Arthur’s stomach growled again just thinking about the donuts. "Someone needs to find the take-away menus,” he said, truly unable to get up to get them himself. Even if he had feeling in his body, Gwen and Morgana had him pinned.
He felt Gwen’s head shake against his thigh. "They’re in one of these boxes somewhere,” she mumbled, sounding more and more tired as the minutes passed by. "But even if we could find them, which is highly unlikely, they’re all for the other side of town. I don’t even know why we packed them. We should have just thrown them away.” She yawned.
Arthur rubbed lazy circles on her back and nudged Morgana’s shoulder with his. "What’s to eat around here?”
"Oh, Arthur.” Morgana was far too dignified to snort, but he could feel the intensity of her sarcasm through his bones. "I am not a human phone book.”
"But you used to live around here!” Arthur exclaimed, with slightly less ardor than usual.
She sighed, barely containing her annoyance. "Yes. Five years ago. Try again.”
Gwen yawned again. "I put your laptop in the study,” she said sleepily. "We could look something up on there.”
Arthur shook his head. "No Internet until Tuesday when they come to install it.” And really, even after the intense fit Arthur had thrown and pulled as many strings as he was willing to pull, that was the earliest they could get. The original date, before Arthur had thrown his weight around, had been two weeks out. Who could survive without Internet for two weeks? Not Arthur, that’s for sure.
Especially since he had sworn to Gwen that as her flatmate he would stop sleeping on the extremely uncomfortable couch in his office like he did most nights and come home so she wouldn’t be alone. And if that was going to be the case, then he’d need Internet to do work remotely.
Besides, he said he’d be home, not that he wouldn’t still be working.
"Mobiles?” Leon suggested, breaking into Arthur’s reverie.
Morgana lifted her head from Arthur’s shoulder and grinned over at him, like he was some bloody knight in shining armor. "You’re so smart,” she cooed and Leon turned red, like some 15-year-old school girl.
Arthur couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t rolling his eyes.
"Mine’s dead,” Gwen said without even pulling it out of her pocket even though Arthur was hoping she would just so it would stop digging into the side of his other thigh where her bottom had slipped down between his and Leon’s thighs. "Sorry,” she added with a sigh. She sounded like she was falling asleep.
Leon added, "Mine’s in the truck.”
Arthur snorted. "Good place for it, mate.” Leon only shrugged in response, not even pretending like he was going to go out and get it. Arthur, who was still pinned beneath Gwen and Morgana, wasn’t sure he could reach his phone without disturbing both of them, so he looked at Morgana. "What about you?”
"Mine is at home,” she stated, her voice haughty and challenging, begging Arthur to prove her wrong. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Sorry I’m not married to mine like you are, dear brother.”
Which was as far from the truth as Arthur imagined anything can be. Morgana was so attached to her Blackberry that when they’d attended a funeral for one of their security guards a couple years ago, it had taken Arthur the entire day to figure out what was different about his sister. Only when she pulled it out of her purse that evening on their way home had he figured out it was that she hadn’t had her cell phone all day. Arthur was certain that if he hadn’t been so busy moving all day, he might have noticed much sooner that she was, indeed, without it.
His face must have shown his utter disbelieve, because she waved her hand dismissively at him and said, "Leon made me leave it there.” Arthur smirked as she continued. "Something about me needing to be able to help, and with work calling every 10 minutes I wouldn’t be able to leave it be.”
Leon chuckled. "I believe what I said was that you’d be useless because you wouldn’t be able to put it down.”
"Word of the Day calendar?” Arthur asked, with a grin.
Leon nodded, a glint in his eye. "January 23rd; they start the year off easy.” He threw his head back and laughed, loud and hearty, and Leon chuckled a bit harder.
"Hardy har har,” Morgana mocked ruefully. "Very funny. Get out your phone, smart arse. Find us something to eat.”
Arthur was getting his second wind and was, unfortunately, finding himself hungrier with every minute. So, he shifted as little as he could to not disturb Gwen, who seemed to actually be asleep across his lap, and pulled out his phone - which he had affectionately named Excalibur (just not in present company, as they’d never let him live it down). He grinned and started pressing the screen. "Well, I guess there’s an app for that.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
And yes, there was an app for that.
Unfortunately, Morgana - and Gwen, who woke up once she heard the words order food - wanted more than just phone numbers and addresses. Menus had been requested. And Arthur, no matter how hard he worked Excalibur, could not find an app for that. What good was technology if restaurants didn’t put their menus online?
That was how he found himself walking over to their neighbors directly to the north - the only other ones that seemed to have lights on at the moment - to inquire about some take-away menus. How he had been the one volunteered for the job, Arthur had no idea. But there you have it.
He jumped over a row of dead pansies (or something; Arthur was the first to admit he wasn’t, nor wanted to be, an authority on flowers) rather than walk all the way down their path just to walk back up the neighbors.
What? He was hungry.
Once at front of the door, Arthur, the ever-conscious business man that he was, checked out his attire to make sure he was presentable. Thankfully he was, even if he was slightly rumpled and in desperate need of a shower. However, that couldn’t be helped at this point; they still hadn’t found the boxes with their toiletries.
Arthur lifted his arm - absolutely not wincing at the pain - and knocked. A moment later, on the other side, Arthur heard a muffled shout. "DOOR!”
And that was when it started. Later, Arthur would find the whole thing ridiculously typical of the men inside, but at that moment, Arthur couldn’t fathom the idiocy that was living to the north of he and Gwen.
"You’re bloody closer, you arse! You get it!” another voice yelled, actually sounding further away, but still plenty loud for Arthur to hear. He wondered what other activity would be going on next door and whether or not he’d really be able to hear it. Arthur cringed.
"It’s not my fucking house, loser!” the first voice shouted back.
"Might as well be! Get the goddamn door, tosser!”
"Fucktard!”
"Man whore!”
The first voice scoffed. "Oh, that’s rich, you great, giant slut!”
And the insults continued with not a single one sounding any closer to the door than when Arthur first knocked. After the second voice shouted, "Pillock!” Arthur decided it would be best to just let it be and see if any of the other neighbors happened to be home. Or even better, just hop in the car and find something on his own. After all, he was out and about already; might as well.
Just as he was turning to walk away, the door swung open and Arthur heard an exceptionally loud, "Twat!” shouted by the first voice from somewhere just inside the door.
The thin man who had opened the door had his head turned away from Arthur when he shouted, "Would you idiots shut up? There’s someone at the door! Have some fucking manners!” Arthur wanted to laugh, but found himself distracted by the man who was decidedly not Arthur’s type, yet somehow attractive (even without seeing his face).
The guy was wearing a pair of white ankle socks without shoes, black mesh shorts that hit just slightly above his knobby knees, and a bright blue t-shirt with "Balor High School Girls Footie” written in red lettering. Arthur couldn’t stop himself from following the defined cords of his long neck (and it was a long neck that Arthur didn’t imagine licking, at all) up to the back of his dark head, where a pair of unfortunate, if not somewhat familiar, ears stuck out.
Arthur shook his head. What was this day turning into? Figuring the entirety of the last five minutes had been nothing short of ridiculous, Arthur didn’t hide his snicker when the shouts inside just continued and the man standing at the door sighed and shook his head. "Sorry about that. I have absolute pillocks for mates,” the man said as he turned around and Arthur instantly choked on his laughter.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Merlin tried not to gasp and let his mouth fall open like some idiot that had never seen an exquisite man before, but Merlin Emrys is impressed!
"Sorry to intrude,” Gorgeous said, as he finished coughing, the lightly tanned skin of his cheeks slightly red and his bright blue eyes looking anywhere but at Merlin. "We - uhhhh - just moved in next door and can’t find our take-away menus. I was hoping we could borrow some of yours.”
And no matter how hard Merlin tried, he couldn’t stop staring at Gorgeous. He knew he needed to answer him, but he just stood there, like a Lame Little Loser and stared. Gorgeous was... well, dammit, he was gorgeous. He looked to be slightly shorter than Merlin, but only by a bit, and muscled all over. Merlin wanted to reach out his hands and run them up and down the muscles twitching below the surface of his skin on his arms. He knew they’d be hard and warm and everything Merlin looked for in a boyfriend, but never seemed to get.
Merlin tore his eyes away from the way Gorgeous’ shirt sleeves stretched around his arms, but found them landing on the strong line of his jaw. He traced the curve toward his ear, which was partially covered by his silky, shining blond hair.
Merlin Emrys is not drooling.... except that he is.
Merlin’s fingers twitched. He wanted to touch so badly.
He balled up his fingers into a fist and brought his eyes back to the light blue ones Gorgeous was sporting. And that quickly, Merlin felt... something in his gut, screaming recognition at him. Eyes flicking desperately now over Gorgeous’ body, Merlin searched for something that would trigger his memory, but nothing. The nagging feeling just continued and seemed to claw at his skin, wanting out and to touch until his heart was content.
Merlin squeezed his fingers tighter until his blunt nails were leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.
Gorgeous coughed and Merlin started. "If you don’t have any, that’s fine,” he said, still hardly able to look at him. And that alone made that feeling of remembrance bouncing around inside Merlin even more pronounced.
"No, we do,” he blurted out. "Sorry. It’s just--” Merlin paused and cocked his head to the side. "Do I know you?”
Gorgeous coughed again and choked out, "We just moved in.” And despite his words, Merlin was certain that they did, in fact, know each other. Especially when he saw the way his cheeks coloured. Gorgeous finally looked at him, square in the eye and Merlin felt something inside him click, like all the planets had aligned and everything was right in the world. "The... the menus?” Gorgeous asked.
"Yeah, let me - uhhh - just hold on for a second, yeah?” Merlin shot his thumb over his shoulder and tried an eye roll, "I’d ask one of them to get it for me, but--”
Gorgeous finally smiled, even if it looked a little strained, and Merlin was pretty sure he had died and gone to Sexy Boy Heaven. "Yeah. No offence or anything,” Gorgeous said, "but we’re all starving. I doubt they’d appreciate it if I spent the evening on your doorstep.”
"You can come in, if you’d like,” Merlin said, his heart pounding in his chest, just trying to escape. "It’ll only take a second.” Merlin watched as Gorgeous rocked on his heels a bit, before leaning forward only slightly, barely noticeable, to look in the front door. Merlin took a step back and attempted a smile, "I promise not to let the idiots bother you.”
Gorgeous took half a step toward the door and then another. And just as Merlin was absolutely certain he was going to walk inside to wait (Merlin Emrys needs him to stay forever.), laughter, loud and raucous and coming from his Best Friend Numero Two, broke out behind him. Gorgeous, a look of recognition and utter disbelief etched on his face, stopped his forward motion and Merlin thought he could probably kill Gwaine right now and be totally and completely fine with it.
Merlin turned around and saw Gwaine standing over by the couch, a grin stretched out over his face and his previously exuberant laughter cut down to a choked chuckle. Merlin glared at him. "What’s the problem, Ryder?”
But Gwaine completely ignored him and chuckled one more time before addressing Gorgeous. "Moved in next door then, Arthur?”
ARTHUR!
Merlin’s stomach dropped and a wave of embarrassment crashed over him as his memories from Thursday night came flooding back in. He slowly looked away from Gwaine’s overly enthusiastic expression, swallowing around a hard lump in his throat, and brought his gaze over to Arthur...
...Who was doing a spectacular job of looking calmly flustered, if that was even a thing. But even in his discombobulated state, Merlin still took the time to look over the pink-tinged softness of Arthur’s cheeks when he smiled slightly at Gwaine and the curve of his long fingers as they shook slightly.
"It seems I have,” Arthur answered, posh and poised, despite his obvious discomfort.
Merlin shook his head before dropping it down into his hands. "Oh my god.”
"My god, too!” Gwaine responded cheerily (Merlin Emrys is going to commit murder tonight.) and walked forward with the take-away menus in his hand. Merlin had no idea when he’d acquired them, but that was just one of those things about Gwaine; he was stealthy like a ninja.
Arthur’s face reddened even more slightly when he took the menus from Gwaine and asked, "So... you two live here, then?”
"Not me,” Gwaine answered quickly, and Merlin was surprisingly okay with that, since he wasn’t sure he could formulate a full sentence anyway. Not a coherent one anyway. "Though, I’m here enough you’d think I did. I can’t stand Will, to be completely honest. He’s Merlin’s roommate. Flatmate? Whatever, I’m American, even if I have lived here over fifteen years. I still don’t get all your lingo.” Merlin stared at Gwaine. When had he become so chatty? "Anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t live here because Will and I would kill each other - no matter how many times Merlin says that’s not true. Believe me, friend, it’s true. But Merlin lives here,” Gwaine said, a Cheshire cat grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him close into his side, forcing him to face Arthur. "And Will, of course. You won’t like him either. No point in trying.”
Merlin chanced a look at Arthur, hoping beyond all hope that he wasn’t paying any attention to Gwaine’s ramblimg, but it seemed that the gods were against him once again. Arthur was staring a hole into Merlin’s chest, because it seemed he still couldn’t look Merlin in the eye (Merlin Emrys doesn’t blame him.), and his mouth hung open slightly. He could only imagine what was going through his mind.
"So, there’s your menus, dude,” Gwaine continued on as if there wasn’t some awkward and strained moment going on between Merlin and Arthur. "Don’t worry about bringing them back; these boys have plenty.” He watched Gwaine’s smile widen and Merlin knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. "That is, of course, unless you’d like to bring them back as an excuse to come by. I’m sure Merlin wouldn’t mind.”
Merlin sputter-coughed at the same time Arthur’s eyes grew as wide as saucers and he hurriedly said, "Thanks, mate!” before walking off their doorstep.
Merlin Emrys is going to kill him.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur poked at his sushi with his chop sticks, trying not to pout like a pouty thing. He might have actually enjoyed his dinner if he’d not been so freaked out by the way it looked.
He sighed and speared a piece of cucumber with one stick from the center of a roll and popped it into his mouth. Okay, he lied. He wouldn’t have liked it anyway. Cucumber was just not his thing.
Arthur hadn’t even been aware of what he was doing when he’d ordered the Caterpillar from the Japanese menu he’d pilfered from his neighbors (Arthur refused to think of them as Merlin, Will and sometimes Gwaine, even though he knew that’s who they were, because... well, he didn’t have a really good reason at the moment, but damn it, he’d come up with one). All he could really remember was seeing the random "M” written in blue ink beside the dish (and quickly noting that there was a "W” and a "G” written next to other items on the menu, obviously indicating favorites) and had ordered it for himself.
Even when Leon had cocked an eyebrow at him and asked, "Are you sure?” he’d simply nodded his head and walked off, before any additional comments could be made.
If he’d known... Arthur shook his head, grabbed a roll and quickly put it in his mouth to chew as quickly as humanly possible. He wanted to gag, but was far too dignified for that.
Yeah, if Arthur had known - or even taken a moment to read the description of the dish, like normal people - he never would have ordered something that actually looked like a caterpillar and no doubt tasted like one (Arthur was never going to try a caterpillar, but he knew this is how one would taste... knew it) with its eel-covered cucumbers and avocado sauce of DOOM!
Arthur was really trying not to pout, but when Morgana popped a tasty-looking California roll into her mouth and raised her brow at him, he knew he was failing epically. "Why in the world would you order something like that, Arthur?” she asked, easing her chopsticks across the over-sized (like all the rest of their furniture) coffee table and snatching a roll from his container. "The last time I saw you eat a vegetable was when you were eight and Uther wouldn’t let you go trick-or-treating unless you ate all the broccoli on your plate.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes at his sister and willed himself to keep his chopsticks to himself, even though her California rolls were calling his name. "I like vegetables, Morgana,” Arthur replied and pretended not to hear Leon’s snort from beside him. "I’m just tired.”
Morgana looked far from convinced and just to prove his point, Arthur picked up another green, slimy-looking roll and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed and chewed... and chewed until he thought for certain he was going to hurl, but choked it down. Morgana laughed. Hard. Arthur was not amused.
He poked again at the remaining four rolls on his plate and tried to figure out how he’d actually eaten half of them already. Pulling at the grilled eel with his chop sticks, Arthur tried to avoid looking at Morgana’s California rolls, Gwen’s Crunchy rolls and even Leon’s Hella Hot ones (and really, what kind of restaurant names their sushi rolls Hella Hot?) As his eyes drifted about the coffee table they were all congregated Indian-style around, Arthur saw the stack of menus sitting off to the side.
He picked up another roll and bit into it, rather than eating the whole thing in one go, and tried to distract himself enough from the disgusting taste by flipping through each of the menus. About halfway through, Arthur realized three things:
He had recognized Merlin the moment he’d turned around and, just like Thursday night, he’d been caught off guard by how attracted he was to him. Merlin was far from being Arthur’s usual type. Arthur’s type, when of the male variety, was usually tall and muscled, arrogant and sexy, hard-working and rich. Granted, Arthur never really felt much more than intense sexual attraction to them, but it was enough to sustain a relationship for a few months before moving on.
The females that he dated had, not surprisingly, almost the same attributes as the men, only he liked them short, petite and curvy. Arthur believed it was okay to be shallow in, at the very least, one aspect of your life and for him that was in his choice of partners.
However, Arthur seemed to save all his feelings for his girlfriends. Arthur was absolutely certain that the future Pendragon spouse would, in fact, be a woman, even if he was a very out and open bi-sexual man, so he tried to take better care in choosing his girlfriends.
Sadly, none of them had seemed all that interested in returning his feelings... unless you counted the numerous sexual acts they were willing to do for and to him. Instead, each new girlfriend he acquired seemed more shallow, vapid and self-centred than the previous. And really, Arthur was getting old enough now that he really wanted something more in life.
He was instantly horrified when his perfect little imaginary family in his mind melded his "wife” into a cheery, red-faced picture of Merlin smiling goofily at him.
Arthur, confused and slightly angry with himself by all these emotions and feelings he was having toward a virtual stranger who had hit on him in a pub and just happened to live next door, actually stabbed his chopsticks into the middle of his last roll (when had he eaten the rest of them?) and got up from the table. "I’m tired,” he announced to the group, knowing well that it was far too early to go to bed when there were hours left in the day that could be used for unpacking. "I think I’ll go to bed.”
He didn’t wait for a response as he turned on his heel and marched into his room. Only when the door was closed behind him did he remember that he had no idea which box held his sheets.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The next morning, Merlin’s head was feeling even fuzzier than it had the night before when he’d finally fallen into a fitful sleep. It was stupid, to be honest. What did he have to feel fuzzy about? He’d gone off and been stupid while under the influence of alcohol. Big deal, people did that every day. It’s not like Merlin was the first person in the whole, wide world to make an arse of himself while intoxicated.
And just because that gorgeous, gorgeous man now lived right next door...
Merlin banged his forehead against the front door in annoyance. He wasn’t going to think about his sexy new neighbour or the way Merlin’d made a complete and utter fool of himself anymore. Besides, unless someone invented time travel (or The Doctor showed up because Merlin’s life was really just part of some elaborate alien scheme to create an army of drunken, pick-up line throwing idiots), Merlin was pretty sure he couldn’t go back and change what had already happened. It would just be a lot smarter to move forward and hope that Arthur forgot all about it... eventually, Merlin would as well. Hopefully.
Resolved, Merlin nodded to himself and opened the front door to grab the Sunday morning paper (the only one they subscribed to, because it had the colourful funnies in it - Will really liked the funnies). Unfortunately, the paperboy had, once again, thrown the paper haphazardly toward their door, so that it had landed closer to the fence near the road. It also just happened to land mostly onto Arthur’s property. Merlin groaned. The paperboy’s aim was getting increasingly worse each day.
Clad in only a white t-shirt and his Batman boxers (yes, the bat-signal was on his arse), Merlin looked left and right before darting out quickly to pick up the paper. He ran across the pavement and into the garden, his bare feet getting wet from the dew on the grass and freezing a bit in the cool October air.
He probably should have just gone in, thrown on some clothes and then ventured out to get the paper. Doing just that would have not only saved his poor, delicate feet from the wet, cold grass, but it would have saved him a whole lot of embarrassment, as well. Of course, that was the beauty of hind sight.
Merlin had just bent over to pick up the paper when he heard a stifled giggle behind him. He stood up quickly, thankfully with the paper in his hand and turned. Standing behind him, looking more gorgeous than he remembered her from the night at the pub, was the curly-haired, dark-skinned beauty that had been with Arthur. She was wearing a bright yellow, fuzzy bathrobe with orange ducks floating along the bottom and a pair of equally yellow and fuzzy duck slippers on her feet. She was holding a steaming mug in her left hand and the paper in her right. She was grinning at him.
"Hey,” she said. "Merlin, right?” She stuck the newspaper under her left arm and extended her hand to Merlin. "I’m Gwen.” Without saying a word, Merlin shook her hand (she had a nice, firm grip, Merlin noticed) and then promptly closed his mouth before he started drooling. He may have grunted assent in there somewhere, but he wasn’t quite sure. "I don’t know if you remember me from the other night at the pub.”
Merlin blinked and nearly groaned aloud. Why hadn’t they all just been sloshed like he had, so memories were fuzzy, at best? It was bad enough he had to come face-to-face with Arthur. Now having to deal with his... friends...
Merlin’s eyes darted to the black mug in her hand. It had a giant white letter "A” on the side of it. And just like that, things started to click into place. He felt his eyes widen as he looked back at her. She was still smiling, but her eyebrows were raised in question. "I - uhhh,” Merlin stuttered and cleared his throat. "Yes. I remember you. Sorry about that, by the way,” he recovered. "I’m not normally that outgoing.”
Gwen laughed. "No worries. It was massively entertaining.” And just like that, she stopped and her smile slipped. "Oh god,” she said in a rush. "I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. It’s just, you know, you were adorably funny. And entertaining. But, you know, not in a bad way or anything. Just funny. And, yeah, entertaining. You gave us a good laugh and... shut up already, Guinevere.”
Merlin stared at her red face, wide eyes that didn’t quite meet his, and body language that screamed RUN! and felt a smile touch his mouth as laughter bubbled up into his chest. It would be so easy to hate her because it was obvious based on her current appearance and the fact that she was using a mug that was most definitely Arthur’s that she and Arthur were an item (at which stage in their relationship, Merlin wasn’t sure - nor was he going to ask). But just because Merlin had, once again, fallen (in the loosest form of the word) for a man who was already in a relationship and quite obviously not gay, well he couldn’t hate her for something he’d done.
And anyway, she was adorable.
Merlin Emrys’ life would be so much easier if he were straight.
"It’s really okay,” Merlin found himself saying aloud, his voice still scratchy from lack of use, but amused. She really was adorable. "I knew what you meant. I’m sure it was quite a sight.”
The colour cleared from her face and she smiled at him brightly again. "I’m glad to officially meet you. Arthur was pretty shocked when he came back over with the menus last night.”
Merlin shuffled his feet in the grass, feeling wetness slide between his toes. It was uncomfortable and cold. "That would make two of us.”
Gwen giggled again and took a sip from Arthur’s mug. "By the way, do you want those back?”
"The menus? Oh no, we have more than is strictly necessary. Besides, this way you won’t be without.” Merlin knew this was the most mundane conversation in existence, but it seemed like the kind of conversation two old friends would have when put in the same situation (that is, the situation of going out in the early morning sunshine to grab the Sunday newspaper at the same time). And that’s how he felt with Gwen... like old friends. Like maybe their souls had spent years and years together. And that just seemed ridiculous when he hadn’t even know her five minutes, but there it was.
"Fabulous,” Gwen said and shuffled her feet in the wet grass, as well. Merlin saw that her ducky slippers were getting wet. He absently wondered if she minded. "I’ll let you get inside,” she added and poked at his arm where his gooseflesh had started. "You should put more clothes on when you come outside.”
Merlin grinned at her. "I’ll remember that next time,” he said and started toward his door as she moved toward hers.
After a few steps, Gwen stopped and looked over at him. "We should hang out sometime,” she said, her eyes bright. "I have a feeling we’ll get on like a house on fire.”
"You know where I live,” Merlin said, nodding his head in agreement before he’d even given it any thought. That wouldn’t eventually lead to awkwardness or anything, Merlin thought sarcastically.
Gwen laughed and walked back toward her door. Merlin didn’t move again until it was shut behind her.
Merlin Emrys’ life is a complicated mess.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur looked up from his toast and coffee when Gwen shut the door behind her. His eyes instantly narrowed. "I see you found my favourite mug,” he said while crispy and minuscule crumbles of toast flew from his lips. He looked down at the ugly orange and green abomination that Leon had given him one Christmas as a really crappy white elephant gift. Arthur was certain he’d thrown it out more times than he could count, but it always mysteriously made it’s way back into his cupboard, so he’d finally let it be.
This morning, however it was the only mug he had been able to find (it helped that it had been on the counter next to the pot - he had an inkling it had been Gwen’s doing... or it was a magic fucking mug). He was only using it because coffee was the only thing that could improve Arthur’s early-morning disposition. And a coffee-fueled Arthur was a happy Arthur.
Gwen smiled at him and tossed the Sunday paper down in front of him. "I did,” she said after taking a nice, deep sip and smacking her lips. Arthur rolled his eyes and unrolled the paper. He’d barely had a chance to read the top headline when Gwen sat down at the cluttered table with him and said, "I met Merlin.”
Groaning internally, Arthur didn’t look up from the paper, though he wasn’t actually reading the words. His thoughts had effectively been diverted to dark hair, bright blue eyes and giant ears. It was bad enough he’d spent the entire night dreaming about Merlin (a man he didn’t even know!) but now he had to think about him during his waking hours, too? Great. Just fucking great.
Arthur took another gulp from the ugly coffee cup (pretending that he couldn’t see the clashing colours that hurt his delicate eyes this early in the morning) and then scowled at Gwen. "Good for you,” he bit out.
Gwen only raised her eyebrow at him, her face incredulous and Arthur instantly felt bad for being so pissy. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” she noted.
"Sorry,” he mumbled and then set the paper down. He wasn’t going to be able to focus on it now anyway. He couldn’t think of anything but Merlin and his stupid, adorable face. "I didn’t sleep well last night.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was definitely stretching the truth. He had fallen asleep almost instantly due to sheer exhaustion, but was plagued by the Merlin dreams all night. He had slept fine. His libido, on the other hand...
"New place,” Gwen mumbled and took another drink from her mug. "You’ll get used to it.” She reached over and pulled the paper out from under his hands. Arthur didn’t have it in him to protest. It’s not like he’d be reading it anytime soon anyway. "Or maybe you could chat with Merlin about it.” Gwen smirked when Arthur choked on his coffee. "Maybe he has some pointers for you.”
Arthur sputtered a moment, his mouth flapping open and closed like a fish out of water and knowing he looked ridiculous. "What? I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She had to audacity to laugh. One giant, "HA!” Arthur was not amused. "You know exactly what I’m talking about, Arthur.” She had her eyes trained on the paper in front of her, pretending to read the headlines (Arthur knew these things), "You forget I used to live with Morgana,” she said. "And to think I moved in with you so I didn’t have to hear sexy moaning and groaning from the next room anymore.”
Arthur glared at her. "I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re so sweet and innocent, Guinevere Smithson,” he remarked, completely ignoring her and pointing his finger in her face, knowing that she hated when people did that. "You are an evil, evil little harpy.”
Her eyes rose just above the paper to level him with a look, one eyebrow cocked. They stared at each other for a full minute before he looked back down at his coffee. "You didn’t deny it,” he mumbled.
Gwen scoffed.
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 3
Arthur’s eyes closed.
He would like to say that he wasn’t absolutely exhausted due to packing, moving, sorting and (sort of, but not really) unpacking boxes all day. After all, he was a religious gym nut, which he managed to fit into his schedule even though he worked ridiculous hours all the time, and fucking fit - there’s really no denying it - so he shouldn’t be exhausted at all. A little bit of manual labor did a body good.
However, the truth was that he would have no problem curling himself up onto their new and ridiculously expensive couch that was far too comfy for words - and no, he would not be admitting that to Morgana, especially after the epic fit he threw about how much it cost (even if she did concede that the flower pattern was far from aesthetically pleasing and let him purchase the one in black instead) - and dying.
Of course, Arthur knew he was too young and too gorgeous to die, but he couldn’t help thinking that it would be a peaceful and relaxed death, anyway.
Not for the first time that day, he had cursed himself for going out with Morgana and Gwen two nights prior and then working overtime the next night after only an hour of sleep. What in the world had he been thinking? He liked to think that he was pretty much capable of doing anything, but he wasn’t Superman. Even if he would look pretty spectacular in blue and red spandex.
"Pendragon!” Arthur’s eyes flew open and it took a moment for him to focus on Leon, Morgana’s other half and his, loathe to admit it, best mate. "Get your lazy arse up and help me move this ostentatious atrocity inside.”
Arthur glared at him. "It’s better than the one your girlfriend picked out. And really, those are some pretty big words, you great giant oaf,” he said, but got off the couch anyway. "I do so hope that you choke on one some day soon.”
Leon grinned his goofy grin. "Well, something else you can blame on Morgana,” he said, far too happy for Arthur’s liking. "It’s that damn Word of the Day desk calendar she got me for Christmas. I’m so enamored by her, I check it constantly and use the words religiously just because I know it’ll make her happy,” he said, before looking thoughtful. "I do tend to forget she said that my grammar and vocabulary were barely above that of a primate’s, so it was imperative that I use it.” Leon shook his head. "It’s more romantic if I just ignore that part.”
Arthur snorted. "Yes, because when I think of Morgana,” he said, "I definitely use the adjective romantic.” He rolled his eyes and watched Leon’s grin get even dopier. "And don’t pretend like you’re enamored by her. She’s an evil harpy and we both know it. Let’s call it what it is, shall we? You’re enamored by her breasts. They are dangerous, dark weapons, Knight. You need to just let it go.”
Leon was pensive for a moment, as if Arthur might have actually unleashed the powers of the universe with that one statement, but finally shook his head again. "No, those are definitely nice,” he said, "but I’m about ninety-eight percent sure I’m in love with her because of, well, her.”
"Only ninety-eight percent?” Arthur asked. "What about the other two percent?”
Leon grinned. "I save those for her breasts. One percent for each.”
"You are a disturbed man, Leon. Disturbed.” Arthur shook his head and started walking toward the cab of the truck. "And for that, you get to stand down there on the ground and hold this, as you so elegantly put it, atrocity, while I push it off the truck.”
Leon rolled his eyes, but hopped off the bed of the truck anyway. "You’re an arse-face, Pendragon,” he said, with little heat.
"And you’re an enormous, soppy ogre. I’d say that makes us right about even, mate.”
"Colourful,” Leon laughed and let out an oomph when Arthur pushed the sofa off the end of the truck bed and into his waiting (though obviously unprepared) arms.
Arthur grinned and pushed again. "I have my own desk calendar: Insults of the Day.” Leon laughed so hard he nearly dropped the couch.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur was trying to reacquaint himself with the sofa a few hours later (and quite possibly dying - it was still an option, he was sure), when Gwen collapsed beside him and proceeded to drape herself across his lap. The arm she had cushioned under her head was digging into his groin and it was far too uncomfortable for his liking, but he couldn’t be arsed to move himself or her. His arms were protesting their mere existence and his back was likely going to be hunched for the rest of his life, so really. Why cause himself anymore torture? And no, he was not being melodramatic.
"Kill me,” she mumbled into his thigh, right above his knee. "Just end it now. Please.” Now Gwen? Yeah, she was being melodramatic. "I can’t move. My body is on fire and I’m pretty sure I found muscles today that no other person has.”
Arthur’s only response was a small grunt, his eyes drifting closed once more as Gwen rambled on.
"They will write books about me,” she said, the hand not under her head coming up to rest on his other knee. "I will be studied and prodded and tested all because I have these muscles that don’t exist in other humans. They’ll call me a freak or an alien or something like that and then put me on display. It will be horrible. So, if you ever had the slightest feeling for me, Arthur, you’ll just end it all right now.”
"I’m pretty sure that won’t happen, Gwen,” Arthur responded. "Likely because you don’t have these strange, alien muscles you claim to have.”
Gwen lifted her head a fraction, as if she were going to turn and glare at him in her not-so-scary Gwen Glare, but thought better of it and set her head back down. "They will,” she said, adamantly. "And I do. Don’t mock me, Arthur Pendragon.”
"My apologies.” Arthur tried to lift his hand to pat her comfortingly on the back, but it still wasn’t cooperating. "You should have just moved into my old flat, Gwen. It would have been a million times easier.”
"I do believe you’re exaggerating. A million is far too big a number,” Gwen said, her voice sounding sleepy. He could sympathize. "And no, moving into your one-bedroom flat would not have been easier.”
Arthur attempted a shrug, but it wasn’t happening either. It didn’t matter; Gwen wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. "We would have been cosy.”
Gwen just chuckled. "Hmm, keep telling yourself that.”
He was finally able to lift his left arm and put it up on her back, rubbing small circles and he heard her hum her appreciation. "I will,” he mumbled. "You know, we could have, at the very least, had the new furniture delivered, rather than doing it ourselves.” And that shit was heavy, he added in his head, because he’d never admit it aloud.
At that moment, Leon slid down onto the couch to his left and let out a groan of pleasure. He felt Gwen shift her weight slightly, more pressure added to his groin (OW!) before she moved her arm completely away from it (Thank everything that is holy!), as she moved her legs up onto Leon’s lap and snuggled down further into Arthur’s thigh. "I’m not entirely sure how you let Morgana talk you into that either,” he said. "You could have purchased a small car for the price you paid for this stuff. Why not fork out another couple hundred pounds to have it delivered?”
Arthur was just about to reply with a half-arsed snide comment of his own, when Morgana said, "Because Arthur is a stubborn mule, that’s why,” from somewhere directly behind him.
Arthur really wanted to comment, but considering Morgana was right, he decided it would be best to avoid any petty arguments. Especially since he just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.
Morgana flopped down to Arthur’s right and slipped her arm through his before setting her head on his shoulder. Arthur could only imagine how cosy they must look, all scrunched together on the new and - still not telling Morgana - amazing couch. Too bad he could will his eyes open to see it.
He felt Morgana sigh against his neck. "He’s still a pretty decent brother, though.”
Arthur grunted, but felt a muscle in his cheek involuntarily twitch and lift his mouth into a half-smile. "Love you, too, Morgana,” he said and linked their fingers together.
They were all exhausted; it was evident in their lacklustre tone of voice, so when the natural quiet came over them, Arthur was certain he would be asleep in a few short minutes.
Of course, that’s when Gwen said, in a not-so-convincing tone, "We should start unpacking.”
Each of them, Gwen included (like she couldn’t believe the words had come from her mouth), groaned, "Tomorrow!” and unconsciously hunkered down further into the couch. Sweet silence enveloped them again almost instantly and Arthur found himself praying to every imaginable Higher Power that there would be no more talking.
He cursed the heavens when Morgana opened her trap. "Let’s go out and celebrate your new place instead.” And for Morgana, who holds nothing but the utmost respect for partying, to use her signature Tone of Indifference that was saved for everything except partying, Arthur knew she wasn’t exactly excited about the idea either. So, when no one responded - negatively or positively, he knew his couch sitting was safe.
However, not allowing himself to get his hopes up, Arthur kept himself awake for a full five minutes after Morgana’s lame excuse for motivation. When no one said a word, and he was nearly certain they were all on the fringe of sleep, Arthur decided it was safe to slip into full unconsciousness. His mind drifted and became fuzzy as he focused on the even inhale and exhale of his breath.
Just one. more. minute.
"We should order food,” Leon announced, though admittedly in a voice just above a whisper.
If it didn’t require so much effort, Arthur would have smacked Leon flush across his scruffy, little face. But, as it stood, he was right. Because in that next moment Arthur’s stomach growled. And then, as if in a chain of yawns, Gwen’s rumbled and Morgana’s quaked. But the icing on the cake was Leon’s, which was so intense, it actually shook the couch.
There was nothing left to do, but fall into a fit of overly-exhausted giggles. And those giggles turned into chuckles. And chuckles into full belly laughs that eventually led to wiping tears from their eyes. It had been a long time since Arthur had laughed that hard. He’d missed it, so he laughed harder.
When everyone had finally calmed down and settled back into the couch in a comfy cluster of limbs, Arthur tried to remember the last time any of them had eaten. Other than the occasional protein bar and bottle of water that he had seen each of them eat at some point or another, breakfast had been their last real meal.
Of course, that was a loose interpretation of the coffee, tea and donuts Leon and Morgana had brought with them to Arthur’s old flat, along with Gwen and all her worldly possessions, to start the epic day of moving.
Arthur’s stomach growled again just thinking about the donuts. "Someone needs to find the take-away menus,” he said, truly unable to get up to get them himself. Even if he had feeling in his body, Gwen and Morgana had him pinned.
He felt Gwen’s head shake against his thigh. "They’re in one of these boxes somewhere,” she mumbled, sounding more and more tired as the minutes passed by. "But even if we could find them, which is highly unlikely, they’re all for the other side of town. I don’t even know why we packed them. We should have just thrown them away.” She yawned.
Arthur rubbed lazy circles on her back and nudged Morgana’s shoulder with his. "What’s to eat around here?”
"Oh, Arthur.” Morgana was far too dignified to snort, but he could feel the intensity of her sarcasm through his bones. "I am not a human phone book.”
"But you used to live around here!” Arthur exclaimed, with slightly less ardor than usual.
She sighed, barely containing her annoyance. "Yes. Five years ago. Try again.”
Gwen yawned again. "I put your laptop in the study,” she said sleepily. "We could look something up on there.”
Arthur shook his head. "No Internet until Tuesday when they come to install it.” And really, even after the intense fit Arthur had thrown and pulled as many strings as he was willing to pull, that was the earliest they could get. The original date, before Arthur had thrown his weight around, had been two weeks out. Who could survive without Internet for two weeks? Not Arthur, that’s for sure.
Especially since he had sworn to Gwen that as her flatmate he would stop sleeping on the extremely uncomfortable couch in his office like he did most nights and come home so she wouldn’t be alone. And if that was going to be the case, then he’d need Internet to do work remotely.
Besides, he said he’d be home, not that he wouldn’t still be working.
"Mobiles?” Leon suggested, breaking into Arthur’s reverie.
Morgana lifted her head from Arthur’s shoulder and grinned over at him, like he was some bloody knight in shining armor. "You’re so smart,” she cooed and Leon turned red, like some 15-year-old school girl.
Arthur couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t rolling his eyes.
"Mine’s dead,” Gwen said without even pulling it out of her pocket even though Arthur was hoping she would just so it would stop digging into the side of his other thigh where her bottom had slipped down between his and Leon’s thighs. "Sorry,” she added with a sigh. She sounded like she was falling asleep.
Leon added, "Mine’s in the truck.”
Arthur snorted. "Good place for it, mate.” Leon only shrugged in response, not even pretending like he was going to go out and get it. Arthur, who was still pinned beneath Gwen and Morgana, wasn’t sure he could reach his phone without disturbing both of them, so he looked at Morgana. "What about you?”
"Mine is at home,” she stated, her voice haughty and challenging, begging Arthur to prove her wrong. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Sorry I’m not married to mine like you are, dear brother.”
Which was as far from the truth as Arthur imagined anything can be. Morgana was so attached to her Blackberry that when they’d attended a funeral for one of their security guards a couple years ago, it had taken Arthur the entire day to figure out what was different about his sister. Only when she pulled it out of her purse that evening on their way home had he figured out it was that she hadn’t had her cell phone all day. Arthur was certain that if he hadn’t been so busy moving all day, he might have noticed much sooner that she was, indeed, without it.
His face must have shown his utter disbelieve, because she waved her hand dismissively at him and said, "Leon made me leave it there.” Arthur smirked as she continued. "Something about me needing to be able to help, and with work calling every 10 minutes I wouldn’t be able to leave it be.”
Leon chuckled. "I believe what I said was that you’d be useless because you wouldn’t be able to put it down.”
"Word of the Day calendar?” Arthur asked, with a grin.
Leon nodded, a glint in his eye. "January 23rd; they start the year off easy.” He threw his head back and laughed, loud and hearty, and Leon chuckled a bit harder.
"Hardy har har,” Morgana mocked ruefully. "Very funny. Get out your phone, smart arse. Find us something to eat.”
Arthur was getting his second wind and was, unfortunately, finding himself hungrier with every minute. So, he shifted as little as he could to not disturb Gwen, who seemed to actually be asleep across his lap, and pulled out his phone - which he had affectionately named Excalibur (just not in present company, as they’d never let him live it down). He grinned and started pressing the screen. "Well, I guess there’s an app for that.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
And yes, there was an app for that.
Unfortunately, Morgana - and Gwen, who woke up once she heard the words order food - wanted more than just phone numbers and addresses. Menus had been requested. And Arthur, no matter how hard he worked Excalibur, could not find an app for that. What good was technology if restaurants didn’t put their menus online?
That was how he found himself walking over to their neighbors directly to the north - the only other ones that seemed to have lights on at the moment - to inquire about some take-away menus. How he had been the one volunteered for the job, Arthur had no idea. But there you have it.
He jumped over a row of dead pansies (or something; Arthur was the first to admit he wasn’t, nor wanted to be, an authority on flowers) rather than walk all the way down their path just to walk back up the neighbors.
What? He was hungry.
Once at front of the door, Arthur, the ever-conscious business man that he was, checked out his attire to make sure he was presentable. Thankfully he was, even if he was slightly rumpled and in desperate need of a shower. However, that couldn’t be helped at this point; they still hadn’t found the boxes with their toiletries.
Arthur lifted his arm - absolutely not wincing at the pain - and knocked. A moment later, on the other side, Arthur heard a muffled shout. "DOOR!”
And that was when it started. Later, Arthur would find the whole thing ridiculously typical of the men inside, but at that moment, Arthur couldn’t fathom the idiocy that was living to the north of he and Gwen.
"You’re bloody closer, you arse! You get it!” another voice yelled, actually sounding further away, but still plenty loud for Arthur to hear. He wondered what other activity would be going on next door and whether or not he’d really be able to hear it. Arthur cringed.
"It’s not my fucking house, loser!” the first voice shouted back.
"Might as well be! Get the goddamn door, tosser!”
"Fucktard!”
"Man whore!”
The first voice scoffed. "Oh, that’s rich, you great, giant slut!”
And the insults continued with not a single one sounding any closer to the door than when Arthur first knocked. After the second voice shouted, "Pillock!” Arthur decided it would be best to just let it be and see if any of the other neighbors happened to be home. Or even better, just hop in the car and find something on his own. After all, he was out and about already; might as well.
Just as he was turning to walk away, the door swung open and Arthur heard an exceptionally loud, "Twat!” shouted by the first voice from somewhere just inside the door.
The thin man who had opened the door had his head turned away from Arthur when he shouted, "Would you idiots shut up? There’s someone at the door! Have some fucking manners!” Arthur wanted to laugh, but found himself distracted by the man who was decidedly not Arthur’s type, yet somehow attractive (even without seeing his face).
The guy was wearing a pair of white ankle socks without shoes, black mesh shorts that hit just slightly above his knobby knees, and a bright blue t-shirt with "Balor High School Girls Footie” written in red lettering. Arthur couldn’t stop himself from following the defined cords of his long neck (and it was a long neck that Arthur didn’t imagine licking, at all) up to the back of his dark head, where a pair of unfortunate, if not somewhat familiar, ears stuck out.
Arthur shook his head. What was this day turning into? Figuring the entirety of the last five minutes had been nothing short of ridiculous, Arthur didn’t hide his snicker when the shouts inside just continued and the man standing at the door sighed and shook his head. "Sorry about that. I have absolute pillocks for mates,” the man said as he turned around and Arthur instantly choked on his laughter.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Merlin tried not to gasp and let his mouth fall open like some idiot that had never seen an exquisite man before, but Merlin Emrys is impressed!
"Sorry to intrude,” Gorgeous said, as he finished coughing, the lightly tanned skin of his cheeks slightly red and his bright blue eyes looking anywhere but at Merlin. "We - uhhhh - just moved in next door and can’t find our take-away menus. I was hoping we could borrow some of yours.”
And no matter how hard Merlin tried, he couldn’t stop staring at Gorgeous. He knew he needed to answer him, but he just stood there, like a Lame Little Loser and stared. Gorgeous was... well, dammit, he was gorgeous. He looked to be slightly shorter than Merlin, but only by a bit, and muscled all over. Merlin wanted to reach out his hands and run them up and down the muscles twitching below the surface of his skin on his arms. He knew they’d be hard and warm and everything Merlin looked for in a boyfriend, but never seemed to get.
Merlin tore his eyes away from the way Gorgeous’ shirt sleeves stretched around his arms, but found them landing on the strong line of his jaw. He traced the curve toward his ear, which was partially covered by his silky, shining blond hair.
Merlin Emrys is not drooling.... except that he is.
Merlin’s fingers twitched. He wanted to touch so badly.
He balled up his fingers into a fist and brought his eyes back to the light blue ones Gorgeous was sporting. And that quickly, Merlin felt... something in his gut, screaming recognition at him. Eyes flicking desperately now over Gorgeous’ body, Merlin searched for something that would trigger his memory, but nothing. The nagging feeling just continued and seemed to claw at his skin, wanting out and to touch until his heart was content.
Merlin squeezed his fingers tighter until his blunt nails were leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.
Gorgeous coughed and Merlin started. "If you don’t have any, that’s fine,” he said, still hardly able to look at him. And that alone made that feeling of remembrance bouncing around inside Merlin even more pronounced.
"No, we do,” he blurted out. "Sorry. It’s just--” Merlin paused and cocked his head to the side. "Do I know you?”
Gorgeous coughed again and choked out, "We just moved in.” And despite his words, Merlin was certain that they did, in fact, know each other. Especially when he saw the way his cheeks coloured. Gorgeous finally looked at him, square in the eye and Merlin felt something inside him click, like all the planets had aligned and everything was right in the world. "The... the menus?” Gorgeous asked.
"Yeah, let me - uhhh - just hold on for a second, yeah?” Merlin shot his thumb over his shoulder and tried an eye roll, "I’d ask one of them to get it for me, but--”
Gorgeous finally smiled, even if it looked a little strained, and Merlin was pretty sure he had died and gone to Sexy Boy Heaven. "Yeah. No offence or anything,” Gorgeous said, "but we’re all starving. I doubt they’d appreciate it if I spent the evening on your doorstep.”
"You can come in, if you’d like,” Merlin said, his heart pounding in his chest, just trying to escape. "It’ll only take a second.” Merlin watched as Gorgeous rocked on his heels a bit, before leaning forward only slightly, barely noticeable, to look in the front door. Merlin took a step back and attempted a smile, "I promise not to let the idiots bother you.”
Gorgeous took half a step toward the door and then another. And just as Merlin was absolutely certain he was going to walk inside to wait (Merlin Emrys needs him to stay forever.), laughter, loud and raucous and coming from his Best Friend Numero Two, broke out behind him. Gorgeous, a look of recognition and utter disbelief etched on his face, stopped his forward motion and Merlin thought he could probably kill Gwaine right now and be totally and completely fine with it.
Merlin turned around and saw Gwaine standing over by the couch, a grin stretched out over his face and his previously exuberant laughter cut down to a choked chuckle. Merlin glared at him. "What’s the problem, Ryder?”
But Gwaine completely ignored him and chuckled one more time before addressing Gorgeous. "Moved in next door then, Arthur?”
ARTHUR!
Merlin’s stomach dropped and a wave of embarrassment crashed over him as his memories from Thursday night came flooding back in. He slowly looked away from Gwaine’s overly enthusiastic expression, swallowing around a hard lump in his throat, and brought his gaze over to Arthur...
...Who was doing a spectacular job of looking calmly flustered, if that was even a thing. But even in his discombobulated state, Merlin still took the time to look over the pink-tinged softness of Arthur’s cheeks when he smiled slightly at Gwaine and the curve of his long fingers as they shook slightly.
"It seems I have,” Arthur answered, posh and poised, despite his obvious discomfort.
Merlin shook his head before dropping it down into his hands. "Oh my god.”
"My god, too!” Gwaine responded cheerily (Merlin Emrys is going to commit murder tonight.) and walked forward with the take-away menus in his hand. Merlin had no idea when he’d acquired them, but that was just one of those things about Gwaine; he was stealthy like a ninja.
Arthur’s face reddened even more slightly when he took the menus from Gwaine and asked, "So... you two live here, then?”
"Not me,” Gwaine answered quickly, and Merlin was surprisingly okay with that, since he wasn’t sure he could formulate a full sentence anyway. Not a coherent one anyway. "Though, I’m here enough you’d think I did. I can’t stand Will, to be completely honest. He’s Merlin’s roommate. Flatmate? Whatever, I’m American, even if I have lived here over fifteen years. I still don’t get all your lingo.” Merlin stared at Gwaine. When had he become so chatty? "Anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t live here because Will and I would kill each other - no matter how many times Merlin says that’s not true. Believe me, friend, it’s true. But Merlin lives here,” Gwaine said, a Cheshire cat grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him close into his side, forcing him to face Arthur. "And Will, of course. You won’t like him either. No point in trying.”
Merlin chanced a look at Arthur, hoping beyond all hope that he wasn’t paying any attention to Gwaine’s ramblimg, but it seemed that the gods were against him once again. Arthur was staring a hole into Merlin’s chest, because it seemed he still couldn’t look Merlin in the eye (Merlin Emrys doesn’t blame him.), and his mouth hung open slightly. He could only imagine what was going through his mind.
"So, there’s your menus, dude,” Gwaine continued on as if there wasn’t some awkward and strained moment going on between Merlin and Arthur. "Don’t worry about bringing them back; these boys have plenty.” He watched Gwaine’s smile widen and Merlin knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. "That is, of course, unless you’d like to bring them back as an excuse to come by. I’m sure Merlin wouldn’t mind.”
Merlin sputter-coughed at the same time Arthur’s eyes grew as wide as saucers and he hurriedly said, "Thanks, mate!” before walking off their doorstep.
Merlin Emrys is going to kill him.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur poked at his sushi with his chop sticks, trying not to pout like a pouty thing. He might have actually enjoyed his dinner if he’d not been so freaked out by the way it looked.
He sighed and speared a piece of cucumber with one stick from the center of a roll and popped it into his mouth. Okay, he lied. He wouldn’t have liked it anyway. Cucumber was just not his thing.
Arthur hadn’t even been aware of what he was doing when he’d ordered the Caterpillar from the Japanese menu he’d pilfered from his neighbors (Arthur refused to think of them as Merlin, Will and sometimes Gwaine, even though he knew that’s who they were, because... well, he didn’t have a really good reason at the moment, but damn it, he’d come up with one). All he could really remember was seeing the random "M” written in blue ink beside the dish (and quickly noting that there was a "W” and a "G” written next to other items on the menu, obviously indicating favorites) and had ordered it for himself.
Even when Leon had cocked an eyebrow at him and asked, "Are you sure?” he’d simply nodded his head and walked off, before any additional comments could be made.
If he’d known... Arthur shook his head, grabbed a roll and quickly put it in his mouth to chew as quickly as humanly possible. He wanted to gag, but was far too dignified for that.
Yeah, if Arthur had known - or even taken a moment to read the description of the dish, like normal people - he never would have ordered something that actually looked like a caterpillar and no doubt tasted like one (Arthur was never going to try a caterpillar, but he knew this is how one would taste... knew it) with its eel-covered cucumbers and avocado sauce of DOOM!
Arthur was really trying not to pout, but when Morgana popped a tasty-looking California roll into her mouth and raised her brow at him, he knew he was failing epically. "Why in the world would you order something like that, Arthur?” she asked, easing her chopsticks across the over-sized (like all the rest of their furniture) coffee table and snatching a roll from his container. "The last time I saw you eat a vegetable was when you were eight and Uther wouldn’t let you go trick-or-treating unless you ate all the broccoli on your plate.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes at his sister and willed himself to keep his chopsticks to himself, even though her California rolls were calling his name. "I like vegetables, Morgana,” Arthur replied and pretended not to hear Leon’s snort from beside him. "I’m just tired.”
Morgana looked far from convinced and just to prove his point, Arthur picked up another green, slimy-looking roll and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed and chewed... and chewed until he thought for certain he was going to hurl, but choked it down. Morgana laughed. Hard. Arthur was not amused.
He poked again at the remaining four rolls on his plate and tried to figure out how he’d actually eaten half of them already. Pulling at the grilled eel with his chop sticks, Arthur tried to avoid looking at Morgana’s California rolls, Gwen’s Crunchy rolls and even Leon’s Hella Hot ones (and really, what kind of restaurant names their sushi rolls Hella Hot?) As his eyes drifted about the coffee table they were all congregated Indian-style around, Arthur saw the stack of menus sitting off to the side.
He picked up another roll and bit into it, rather than eating the whole thing in one go, and tried to distract himself enough from the disgusting taste by flipping through each of the menus. About halfway through, Arthur realized three things:
- Every single menu had the letters M, W and G in them next to one item.
And Arthur wasn’t sure if that was just a matter of coincidence or if Gwaine had actually planned it that way? He was inclined to believe the latter, considering Gwaine had said there were many more menus in their flat and it just seemed silly that there would be more than one menu from each place with their initials written in it. Gwaine had definitely grabbed them on purpose, Arthur was sure. - Merlin (as he was still assuming that’s what the M stood for) had some really strange favourite dishes.
Arthur wasn’t sure why, but he had automatically assumed that Merlin was a vegetarian just by looking at him. After all, he was rail thin and looked like a mix between full-on geek and modern day hipster. Weren’t all of those types vegetarians?
Instead, Merlin was not at all a vegetarian, but some sort of meat-eating, vegetable-loving, carbs-are-obviously-the-devil sort of guy. Sure, none of his favourites involved red meat (and Arthur vaguely wondered how Merlin would feel about the purple head of his... STOP THAT!), but otherwise he had decent taste.
Except when it came to his obvious lack of sushi taste and the damn Caterpillar roll. - He had already stopped thinking of them as "the neighbors” and now referred to them by their first names. Fan-fucking-tastic.
He had recognized Merlin the moment he’d turned around and, just like Thursday night, he’d been caught off guard by how attracted he was to him. Merlin was far from being Arthur’s usual type. Arthur’s type, when of the male variety, was usually tall and muscled, arrogant and sexy, hard-working and rich. Granted, Arthur never really felt much more than intense sexual attraction to them, but it was enough to sustain a relationship for a few months before moving on.
The females that he dated had, not surprisingly, almost the same attributes as the men, only he liked them short, petite and curvy. Arthur believed it was okay to be shallow in, at the very least, one aspect of your life and for him that was in his choice of partners.
However, Arthur seemed to save all his feelings for his girlfriends. Arthur was absolutely certain that the future Pendragon spouse would, in fact, be a woman, even if he was a very out and open bi-sexual man, so he tried to take better care in choosing his girlfriends.
Sadly, none of them had seemed all that interested in returning his feelings... unless you counted the numerous sexual acts they were willing to do for and to him. Instead, each new girlfriend he acquired seemed more shallow, vapid and self-centred than the previous. And really, Arthur was getting old enough now that he really wanted something more in life.
He was instantly horrified when his perfect little imaginary family in his mind melded his "wife” into a cheery, red-faced picture of Merlin smiling goofily at him.
Arthur, confused and slightly angry with himself by all these emotions and feelings he was having toward a virtual stranger who had hit on him in a pub and just happened to live next door, actually stabbed his chopsticks into the middle of his last roll (when had he eaten the rest of them?) and got up from the table. "I’m tired,” he announced to the group, knowing well that it was far too early to go to bed when there were hours left in the day that could be used for unpacking. "I think I’ll go to bed.”
He didn’t wait for a response as he turned on his heel and marched into his room. Only when the door was closed behind him did he remember that he had no idea which box held his sheets.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The next morning, Merlin’s head was feeling even fuzzier than it had the night before when he’d finally fallen into a fitful sleep. It was stupid, to be honest. What did he have to feel fuzzy about? He’d gone off and been stupid while under the influence of alcohol. Big deal, people did that every day. It’s not like Merlin was the first person in the whole, wide world to make an arse of himself while intoxicated.
And just because that gorgeous, gorgeous man now lived right next door...
Merlin banged his forehead against the front door in annoyance. He wasn’t going to think about his sexy new neighbour or the way Merlin’d made a complete and utter fool of himself anymore. Besides, unless someone invented time travel (or The Doctor showed up because Merlin’s life was really just part of some elaborate alien scheme to create an army of drunken, pick-up line throwing idiots), Merlin was pretty sure he couldn’t go back and change what had already happened. It would just be a lot smarter to move forward and hope that Arthur forgot all about it... eventually, Merlin would as well. Hopefully.
Resolved, Merlin nodded to himself and opened the front door to grab the Sunday morning paper (the only one they subscribed to, because it had the colourful funnies in it - Will really liked the funnies). Unfortunately, the paperboy had, once again, thrown the paper haphazardly toward their door, so that it had landed closer to the fence near the road. It also just happened to land mostly onto Arthur’s property. Merlin groaned. The paperboy’s aim was getting increasingly worse each day.
Clad in only a white t-shirt and his Batman boxers (yes, the bat-signal was on his arse), Merlin looked left and right before darting out quickly to pick up the paper. He ran across the pavement and into the garden, his bare feet getting wet from the dew on the grass and freezing a bit in the cool October air.
He probably should have just gone in, thrown on some clothes and then ventured out to get the paper. Doing just that would have not only saved his poor, delicate feet from the wet, cold grass, but it would have saved him a whole lot of embarrassment, as well. Of course, that was the beauty of hind sight.
Merlin had just bent over to pick up the paper when he heard a stifled giggle behind him. He stood up quickly, thankfully with the paper in his hand and turned. Standing behind him, looking more gorgeous than he remembered her from the night at the pub, was the curly-haired, dark-skinned beauty that had been with Arthur. She was wearing a bright yellow, fuzzy bathrobe with orange ducks floating along the bottom and a pair of equally yellow and fuzzy duck slippers on her feet. She was holding a steaming mug in her left hand and the paper in her right. She was grinning at him.
"Hey,” she said. "Merlin, right?” She stuck the newspaper under her left arm and extended her hand to Merlin. "I’m Gwen.” Without saying a word, Merlin shook her hand (she had a nice, firm grip, Merlin noticed) and then promptly closed his mouth before he started drooling. He may have grunted assent in there somewhere, but he wasn’t quite sure. "I don’t know if you remember me from the other night at the pub.”
Merlin blinked and nearly groaned aloud. Why hadn’t they all just been sloshed like he had, so memories were fuzzy, at best? It was bad enough he had to come face-to-face with Arthur. Now having to deal with his... friends...
Merlin’s eyes darted to the black mug in her hand. It had a giant white letter "A” on the side of it. And just like that, things started to click into place. He felt his eyes widen as he looked back at her. She was still smiling, but her eyebrows were raised in question. "I - uhhh,” Merlin stuttered and cleared his throat. "Yes. I remember you. Sorry about that, by the way,” he recovered. "I’m not normally that outgoing.”
Gwen laughed. "No worries. It was massively entertaining.” And just like that, she stopped and her smile slipped. "Oh god,” she said in a rush. "I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. It’s just, you know, you were adorably funny. And entertaining. But, you know, not in a bad way or anything. Just funny. And, yeah, entertaining. You gave us a good laugh and... shut up already, Guinevere.”
Merlin stared at her red face, wide eyes that didn’t quite meet his, and body language that screamed RUN! and felt a smile touch his mouth as laughter bubbled up into his chest. It would be so easy to hate her because it was obvious based on her current appearance and the fact that she was using a mug that was most definitely Arthur’s that she and Arthur were an item (at which stage in their relationship, Merlin wasn’t sure - nor was he going to ask). But just because Merlin had, once again, fallen (in the loosest form of the word) for a man who was already in a relationship and quite obviously not gay, well he couldn’t hate her for something he’d done.
And anyway, she was adorable.
Merlin Emrys’ life would be so much easier if he were straight.
"It’s really okay,” Merlin found himself saying aloud, his voice still scratchy from lack of use, but amused. She really was adorable. "I knew what you meant. I’m sure it was quite a sight.”
The colour cleared from her face and she smiled at him brightly again. "I’m glad to officially meet you. Arthur was pretty shocked when he came back over with the menus last night.”
Merlin shuffled his feet in the grass, feeling wetness slide between his toes. It was uncomfortable and cold. "That would make two of us.”
Gwen giggled again and took a sip from Arthur’s mug. "By the way, do you want those back?”
"The menus? Oh no, we have more than is strictly necessary. Besides, this way you won’t be without.” Merlin knew this was the most mundane conversation in existence, but it seemed like the kind of conversation two old friends would have when put in the same situation (that is, the situation of going out in the early morning sunshine to grab the Sunday newspaper at the same time). And that’s how he felt with Gwen... like old friends. Like maybe their souls had spent years and years together. And that just seemed ridiculous when he hadn’t even know her five minutes, but there it was.
"Fabulous,” Gwen said and shuffled her feet in the wet grass, as well. Merlin saw that her ducky slippers were getting wet. He absently wondered if she minded. "I’ll let you get inside,” she added and poked at his arm where his gooseflesh had started. "You should put more clothes on when you come outside.”
Merlin grinned at her. "I’ll remember that next time,” he said and started toward his door as she moved toward hers.
After a few steps, Gwen stopped and looked over at him. "We should hang out sometime,” she said, her eyes bright. "I have a feeling we’ll get on like a house on fire.”
"You know where I live,” Merlin said, nodding his head in agreement before he’d even given it any thought. That wouldn’t eventually lead to awkwardness or anything, Merlin thought sarcastically.
Gwen laughed and walked back toward her door. Merlin didn’t move again until it was shut behind her.
Merlin Emrys’ life is a complicated mess.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur looked up from his toast and coffee when Gwen shut the door behind her. His eyes instantly narrowed. "I see you found my favourite mug,” he said while crispy and minuscule crumbles of toast flew from his lips. He looked down at the ugly orange and green abomination that Leon had given him one Christmas as a really crappy white elephant gift. Arthur was certain he’d thrown it out more times than he could count, but it always mysteriously made it’s way back into his cupboard, so he’d finally let it be.
This morning, however it was the only mug he had been able to find (it helped that it had been on the counter next to the pot - he had an inkling it had been Gwen’s doing... or it was a magic fucking mug). He was only using it because coffee was the only thing that could improve Arthur’s early-morning disposition. And a coffee-fueled Arthur was a happy Arthur.
Gwen smiled at him and tossed the Sunday paper down in front of him. "I did,” she said after taking a nice, deep sip and smacking her lips. Arthur rolled his eyes and unrolled the paper. He’d barely had a chance to read the top headline when Gwen sat down at the cluttered table with him and said, "I met Merlin.”
Groaning internally, Arthur didn’t look up from the paper, though he wasn’t actually reading the words. His thoughts had effectively been diverted to dark hair, bright blue eyes and giant ears. It was bad enough he’d spent the entire night dreaming about Merlin (a man he didn’t even know!) but now he had to think about him during his waking hours, too? Great. Just fucking great.
Arthur took another gulp from the ugly coffee cup (pretending that he couldn’t see the clashing colours that hurt his delicate eyes this early in the morning) and then scowled at Gwen. "Good for you,” he bit out.
Gwen only raised her eyebrow at him, her face incredulous and Arthur instantly felt bad for being so pissy. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” she noted.
"Sorry,” he mumbled and then set the paper down. He wasn’t going to be able to focus on it now anyway. He couldn’t think of anything but Merlin and his stupid, adorable face. "I didn’t sleep well last night.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was definitely stretching the truth. He had fallen asleep almost instantly due to sheer exhaustion, but was plagued by the Merlin dreams all night. He had slept fine. His libido, on the other hand...
"New place,” Gwen mumbled and took another drink from her mug. "You’ll get used to it.” She reached over and pulled the paper out from under his hands. Arthur didn’t have it in him to protest. It’s not like he’d be reading it anytime soon anyway. "Or maybe you could chat with Merlin about it.” Gwen smirked when Arthur choked on his coffee. "Maybe he has some pointers for you.”
Arthur sputtered a moment, his mouth flapping open and closed like a fish out of water and knowing he looked ridiculous. "What? I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She had to audacity to laugh. One giant, "HA!” Arthur was not amused. "You know exactly what I’m talking about, Arthur.” She had her eyes trained on the paper in front of her, pretending to read the headlines (Arthur knew these things), "You forget I used to live with Morgana,” she said. "And to think I moved in with you so I didn’t have to hear sexy moaning and groaning from the next room anymore.”
Arthur glared at her. "I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re so sweet and innocent, Guinevere Smithson,” he remarked, completely ignoring her and pointing his finger in her face, knowing that she hated when people did that. "You are an evil, evil little harpy.”
Her eyes rose just above the paper to level him with a look, one eyebrow cocked. They stared at each other for a full minute before he looked back down at his coffee. "You didn’t deny it,” he mumbled.
Gwen scoffed.