Vampires and Werewolves and Flatshares, Oh My! (3/5)
Title: Vampires and Werewolves and Flatshares, Oh My!
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, with some Freya/Elena, Arthur/Gwaine and references to Arthur/Vivian
Wordcount: ~26,000
Summary: Written for this prompt on kinkme_merlin: Merlin (a vampire) and Arthur (a werewolf) share a flat but living together turns out to be slightly difficult since werewolves and vampires usually don't get on very well...
A/N: Beta'd by mizufae. Now edited with plotholes removed and some shiny new scenes.
Warnings: Some language, fantastic racism, touch of angst.
Masterlist
Part Two
“I don’t need you looking out for me, you know,” said Arthur early that morning when he ran into Merlin making his dinner in the kitchen, the blinds down snugly over the window.
“Hmm?” said Merlin.
“Last night,” said Arthur. “I can handle myself.”
“Against a whole room of vampires?” said Merlin, squeezing a bag of blood into a saucepan to warm it up.
“You know what I mean,” said Arthur. “Also your friends are a bunch of pricks.”
“They’re not so bad,” said Merlin. “They just don’t like werewolves.” He fetched a spoon out of the drawer and tucked in.
“Maybe you need better friends too,” said Arthur.
“Maybe.” Merlin shrugged.
Arthur had actually put a shirt on for once, a faded blue one that hung loose on his frame. He looked good in blue. He looked good in most things. Not that Merlin ever thought about how good Arthur looked. Maybe he would have done if Arthur were a vampire or a human, but werewolves were weird and gross and that was all there was to it.
“Why don’t you like werewolves?” Arthur asked suddenly.
“Well,” said Merlin. “Why don’t you like vampires?”
“Because you drink the blood of the living,” said Arthur. “It’s vile.” He paused. “And you smell all wrong.”
“And you’re hairy and disgusting and you smell like wet dog all the time,” said Merlin. “Goes both ways, see?”
“Well, we don’t kill people,” said Arthur.
“I’ve known plenty of people who got killed by werewolves,” said Merlin. “And I don’t kill people either. None of my friends do. Well, maybe Gilli, but he’s not really my friend, he just hangs around sometimes.”
“You can’t help what you do on the full moon,” said Arthur.
And he was right - it was silly and irrational, but it was a goddamn instinct. It was under Merlin’s skin, that sense that werewolves were all wrong, that they were diseased humans that he had to stay away from and not touch their blood, ever. He should have said something along those lines, but all he came out with was, “I guess, yeah,” and, “I’m going to finish this in my room.” He wandered away, clutching his dinner in both hands.
-
Merlin was woken up the next evening by something tickling his nose. He grumbled sleepily, rolled over, and opened his eyes. Something stinging trickled into them, and he blinked it away frantically with a yelp.
Arthur was standing over him, clutching a little tub in one hand, looking smug. Merlin stared up at him in confusion, then looked at his hands. They sparkled back at him. When he shook his head more glitter sprinkled across his pillow.
“Did you just pour glitter all over me?” he said.
“Yep,” said Arthur.
“What - why?” said Merlin.
“Why’d you think?” said Arthur.
Merlin scowled and lunged for the glitter. Arthur dodged out of his way and threw more of it in his face.
“Will you stop that?” said Merlin, half-rolling out of bed. “It’s in my eyes! It hurts!”
“Oh, grow a pair,” said Arthur. “I thought vampires were supposed to be tough.”
Merlin made another, more successful, grab for the glitter, and managed to pour it all down the front of Arthur’s t-shirt; Arthur snatched it back and tipped it over his head. The ensuing glitter-fight was thankfully brief, because there wasn’t all that much left, but by the time it was over there was glitter spread across most of his room.
“Look what you did!” said Merlin. He punched Arthur’s arm.
“Ow,” said Arthur. “You brought this on yourself. I didn’t do anything.”
“You poured glitter everywhere!” said Merlin.
“Yeah,” said Arthur. “Suits you. You look very pretty, Cullen.”
“Stop calling me that,” said Merlin. “I stopped calling you Fido, didn’t I?”
“You’re right,” said Arthur. “I’m sorry. You’re too ridiculous to be Edward Cullen.” Merlin lunged for him again. Arthur dodged, laughing.
“I am not ridiculous!” said Merlin. Though it was hard not to feel ridiculous when you were covered in glitter, really.
“Oh, come on,” said Arthur. “You’re clearly a pathetic excuse for a vampire. You pour blood on cereal and you wear bright colours all the time and you have the most awful ears I’ve ever seen.”
“What’s wrong with my ears?” said Merlin. “I like my ears.” He paused. “And what do you know about vampires, anyway?” And alright, maybe Arthur had a bit of a point there. That he was currently managing to make being covered in glitter look good didn’t help.
Arthur just shrugged in response. “Anyway, I was just waking you up to tell you that you got a letter today.”
“You couldn’t just have waited for me to get up?” said Merlin.
“Glitter was more fun,” said Arthur. “See you around.” He strutted out of the room, still radiating smugness, and Merlin scowled.
-
“You know, I’m not sure I like Chinese food,” Gaius said a few nights later, hovering in his kitchen while Merlin tried to cook sweet-and-sour for dinner.
“We went to China,” said Merlin. “And you ate the food, and you liked the food.”
“Well, yes,” said Gaius. “But that was in China. It wasn’t Chinese food then, it was just food.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Merlin. “It’s the same food wherever you eat it.”
“Well, my digestion isn’t what it was,” said Gaius darkly.
“Don’t you want some variation?” said Merlin.
“No,” said Gaius flatly. He adjusted his glasses and folded his arms.
“Fine,” said Merlin. “But this is what I’m cooking, so - Jesus Christ!” Michael the frog appeared right beside the cooker with a faint whooshing, and Merlin jumped, almost upsetting the whole pan. “Did you see that?” he said, pointing with his spoon. “You must have seen that!”
“Seen what?” said Gaius, then, “oh, it’s Michael. Hello, Michael.” He picked Michael up in both hands and smiled. Michael croaked, all-innocence.
“This sort of thing,” said Merlin, “is exactly why I moved out.” He shuddered and turned back to the cooker.
“I’m trying out something new at the moment, actually,” said Gaius. “A different angle to super-powers.”
“Oh, really?” said Merlin. “What sort of angle?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” said Gaius. He had his mysterious face on, so there was really no point trying any more. Merlin turned the stove off and began to serve dinner.
“Put the frog somewhere else, yeah?” he said.
“Oh, really,” said Gaius. “They’re part of the family.” He set Michael down beside his plate. Michael croaked and vanished again. Merlin rolled his eyes. “How’s Arthur?”
“He seems alright,” said Merlin. “He’s still not talking much. It’s the full moon in a few days, I think that makes him grouchy. Grouchier, anyway.”
Gaius looked pensive. “Full moon, hmm?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Merlin said.
“It must be very hard for him,” said Gaius. He lifted his cutlery and poked at his dinner suspiciously.
“Well, he doesn’t have to be such a prick about it,” said Merlin. “He keeps making Edward Cullen jokes.”
“What jokes?” said Gaius.
“Never mind,” said Merlin. He started eating. “The other day he poured glitter all over me while I was sleeping!”
“Honestly,” said Gaius, shaking his head. Merlin was about to nod in agreement, when Gaius said, “You two. You might as well be pulling each other’s pigtails.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Merlin.
“You know exactly what I mean,” said Gaius, because Merlin did. “You talk about him every time you come over here. You only do that when you’re infatuated.”
“I am not infatuated!” said Merlin. Gaius raised an eyebrow. “He’s - he’s a bloody werewolf! It’d be gross. Like, bestiality. Or something.”
“Only one night out of the month,” said Gaius. He smiled.
“You’re putting me off my dinner,” said Merlin. “Eurgh.” He pushed his plate away.
“You’re missing out,” said Gaius. “This is very good, you know.”
-
It was light outside when Arthur shook him awake, sunlight seeping into the bedroom despite his best efforts. Merlin pulled the covers over his head and groaned. “M’sorry. G’way. Sleeping.” It was two o’clock in the afternoon, he shouldn’t have to deal with this.
Arthur shook him harder. “I’m not just trying to annoy you,” he said. “Your brother’s here, he wants to talk to you. He says it’s urgent.”
Merlin peered out at him from under the quilt. “Gaius?” he said. Arthur nodded. “What did he want?”
“He didn’t say,” said Arthur. “He just waved his hands around a lot. He wasn’t very coherent. He said something about a breakthrough?”
Merlin blinked. Then he understood. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, no. Not again.” He threw the covers off and scrambled out of bed.
“What?” said Arthur. “What is it?”
“I’ll deal with it,” said Merlin. “Don’t worry.” He hurried away. Arthur followed him a moment later, whether out of genuine concern or just curiosity Merlin wasn’t sure.
“Alright,” he said when he reached the kitchen. “What did you do?”
“Ah, Merlin!” said Gaius cheerfully. He was beaming away, midway through unpacking his battered satchel onto the kitchen table. Merlin frowned. He had expected more fear and screaming and possibly mutant frogs. “There you are! So sorry to wake you.”
“Gaius, what did you do?” said Merlin. “Please tell me you haven’t burned another house down or something.” He rubbed his eyes. He was too tired for this.
“Oh no, nothing like that,” said Gaius. “I’ve had a bit of a breakthrough and I needed test subjects right away, before it decays.”
Merlin stared at him, confused. It took a moment for his sleepy brain to process what he’d just heard. “No,” he said. “Oh, no. No way. Remember what I said after last time?”
“Oh, come now, Merlin -”
“Don’t you ‘come now, Merlin’, me!” said Merlin. “What did I say, Gaius? What did I say after the rabbit incident?”
Gaius sighed. “You said you’d never be my guinea pig again, as long as you lived.”
“Exactly,” said Merlin. He folded his arms. “Whatever that stuff is, you cannot test it on people. I won’t allow it.”
“Well, fine,” said Gaius. “Be that way.” He turned away. “Arthur? How about you?”
“What?” said Arthur, starting. He’d been lounging in the doorway, smirking to himself. “What have I got to do with anything?”
“Well, it would work on you too,” said Gaius.
“No, thanks,” said Arthur.
“It’s perfectly safe,” said Gaius. “I’ve found away to reverse supernatural genetic changes, it should only -”
“Gaius, just leave it -” Merlin began, but Arthur shushed him.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“It should be able to restore your DNA to its unaltered condition,” said Gaius. “It targets the supernatural genes to engage in an enzymatic sub-molecular cleansing -”
“Yes, alright,” said Arthur. “Are you saying it would make me - that it would put me back the way I was?”
“Well, the effects would only be temporary, of course,” said Gaius.
“How temporary?” said Arthur.
“A day at the most,” said Gaius. Arthur’s shoulders sagged. “But if I can find test subjects, then in the near future -”
“Alright,” said Arthur. “I’ll do it.”
“No, you won’t,” said Merlin. He turned to Gaius. “No, he won’t.”
“Yes, I will,” said Arthur.
“You don’t want to do that,” said Merlin. “You have no idea what it’ll do to you. It’s not safe.”
“It’s perfectly safe, thank you,” said Gaius.
“Gaius, look,” said Merlin. “You’re my brother and I love you very much, but you’re really bad at this. Okay?”
“Stop trying to put off my test subject!” said Gaius. “I’ve been working on this all week!”
“It was bad enough when you killed all the frogs,” said Merlin. “I am not letting you inflict whatever it is you’ve made on people.” He folded his arms.
Gaius scowled and turned to Arthur. “Please ignore him. He’s always losing faith in me.”
“Duly noted,” said Arthur. “Don’t worry, I’m still up for this.”
“I am not -” Merlin gave up on Gaius and tried Arthur instead. “Look, just think about what you’re doing. You have no idea how much this could fuck you up.”
Arthur shrugged. “What have I got to lose?” he said.
“You don’t mean that,” said Merlin. “You don’t want to do this!”
“I want my life back!” Arthur snapped.
“Fine,” said Merlin. He turned to Gaius, who was inspecting his collection of little bottles. “You know what? I’ll do it. Leave Arthur out of this.”
“You will?” said Gaius. “Excellent! Two test subjects!” He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Could one of you possibly lend me a saucepan?”
Merlin rolled his eyes and pleaded toward the ceiling.
-
Gaius was still clattering about in the kitchen half an hour later, his work punctuated by frantic mumbling and flashes of light and puffs of fishy-smelling smoke. Merlin and Arthur had relocated to the living room to keep out of the way.
Merlin was pacing up and down (and he’d always thought people didn’t actually do that, but he was just too restless to stay still). “Oh, God,” he said. “Oh God. Oh God.”
“Will you stop that?” said Arthur, slouched on the sofa. “You’re making me anxious.” He switched on the television and began to flick through the channels, eventually settling on the football. Merlin snatched the remote away and turned it off. “Hey!” Arthur snapped.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” said Merlin, gesturing with the remote. “You don’t know Gaius. Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” said Arthur.
“He burned down our house,” said Merlin. “Twice. He blew up the washing machine, and the fridge. He made a mutant… thing that they had to get the army in to deal with. His first batch of super-frogs exploded, and there’s still stains all over the walls. He ripped a hole in the fabric of space-time and now we can’t go in the attic any more, because it’s out of sync with the rest of the house. He’s a menace. He’s going to get us both killed.”
Right,” said Arthur. He sat back against the sofa and smiled. “You don’t have to do it, you know. I’m sure he won’t mind. I mean, you’re only his brother, it’s not like he cares that you don’t trust him or anything.”
Merlin sank down onto the sofa with a whimper. “I hate you so much.”
“I know,” said Arthur.
There was one last loud bang from the kitchen and a tinkle of breaking glass. A tense, silent minute later, Gaius pottered in, carrying a tea tray with a green glass bottle and two shot glasses he must have stolen from Arthur. “All done,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“No,” said Merlin. “No really.”
Gaius just smiled and began to pour the… whatever it was into the glasses. It was a dull, metallic blue, with a thick, syrupy consistency. It took a lot of shaking and muttering to fill the two glasses. “There, now,” said Gaius, setting the bottle down.
“Are those my shot glasses?” said Arthur absently.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Gaius. “I’ll wash them for you.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Arthur.
“Oh, so he’s allowed to use your things,” said Merlin. He stood up and backed away from the tray. “This is a terrible idea. I’m not drinking that stuff.” Gaius looked crestfallen.
“Don’t worry,” said Arthur. He stood up and selected one of the glasses carefully. “I’m still in.”
“We might both explode!” said Merlin.
“Or we might not,” said Arthur.
“If either of you explodes I’ll pay to have the room cleaned,” said Gaius brightly.
“Oh, that’s so comforting,” said Merlin. He took the other glass and stared down at it glumly, stomach churning.
Arthur was sniffing at his. “It smells like fish,” he said. “Why does it smell like fish?”
“Ah, well, it’s made from salmon brai -”
“Never mind,” said Arthur, holding up a hand. “I really don’t want to know what went into this.” He lifted his glass as if he were toasting Merlin, said, “Cheers, then,” and downed it.
And that, Merlin supposed, was that. He couldn’t back down now. He raised the glass to his lips and drank the vile stuff as quickly as he could, then gagged, one hand covering his mouth.
“It tastes like burnt rubber,” he said, still choking slightly. “It smells like fish, how come it tastes like rubber?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Gaius. “Do you feel any different?”
“Not really,” said Merlin. On the other side of the room, Arthur was frowning down at his glass, as if he’d expected more than just a mouthful of foul, slimy goo as well. Other than the taste - which had spread all the way to the back of his throat, it would be stuck there for days - he felt fine. “I feel fine,” he said.
Gaius turned to Arthur, who shrugged. “It tastes disgusting, you should do something about that.” He set his glass back down on the tray.
“Oh,” said Gaius. “Oh, well. Back to the drawing board, I suppose.”
Merlin opened his mouth to agree - or perhaps to dissuade Gaius from trying again, he hadn’t decided yet - when he felt something at last.
It started as a slow, spreading heat in his guts, then a burning stabbing pain that had him doubled over, a searing agony that sent him crumpled to his knees and oh jesus fucking christ what had he done.
He had to breathe. He needed to breathe so badly, for half a minute all he could do was gulp down lungful after lungful of air, there was no room to think, no room for anything but desperate breath after desperate breath, his lungs straining and aching, every inch of his skin on fire. He slumped down still further, lay on his side on the floor, his breaths slowing. He could feel his stuttering pulse racing under his skin, and it suddenly dawned on him just what that meant.
He was alive.
Gaius loomed over him, hands clutching his shoulders frantically. “Merlin?” he was saying. “Merlin, are you alright?”
“I can’t - fuck,” said Merlin. “Gaius, what did you do?” He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. His heart was beating in his chest for the first time in sixty-three years, and it hurt. It hurt quite a lot. And it felt incredible. He clenched his hands into fists, relishing the feel of blood flowing under his skin - he’d felt this before, he’d felt it for twenty-two straight years. How had he not noticed how amazing it had felt?
He felt Gaius’s fingers on his neck, searching out his pulse, then a gasp that was somewhere between shock and relief. “Well, I didn’t think that would actually work,” said Gaius. “Are you alright?”
“It hurts,” Merlin gasped out. Gaius pulled him up and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close, with a sound that might have been a sob, because Merlin was alive, he was alive.
The moment was broken by the sound of Arthur retching. “Don’t mind me,” he said, voice hoarse. Gaius let go of Merlin, muttered apologies, and hurried to check on Arthur. Merlin blinked and rubbed at his eyes. It looked like Arthur had thrown up at least once.
It was hard to tell, though, he realised as he dragged himself upright. His legs were shaking, and his senses had all dimmed. The room felt like a blur around him, every sound muted, and he could hardly smell anything at all.
After a moment, Arthur sat back on his heels and wiped at his mouth. “I’m fine,” he said to Gaius. “I think. I’m fine. I feel better now.” He stared down at his own hands, at his body, then turned and stared right into Merlin’s eyes, and Merlin almost lost his breath again.
Arthur was human. He had to be. Whatever it was that had repulsed Merlin so - the beast, the infection, the thing - was gone, and how he was just a ridiculously gorgeous human, looking up at Merlin with a brilliant, infectious joy in his eyes. He surged upright and near-threw himself across the room, arms wrapping around Merlin, pulling him into a hug so tight his lungs screamed at the effort of breathing.
“Can’t breathe,” he gasped out. Arthur let go of him and drew back (or mostly, anyway, his hands stayed on Merlin’s waist).
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” said Merlin. “Just. Lungs. I haven’t used them in a while, it’ll take a bit of getting used to.” Everything hurt still.
“Right,” said Arthur. “That. Makes sense.”
He stared at Merlin, eyes bright. Merlin stared back.
After a moment, Gaius cleared his throat, and they broke apart, backing away from each other. “Well, I think we can call that a success,” he said. He looked at Arthur, who was looking at the wall, suddenly all awkward, then at Merlin, and said, “Should I leave?”
“No, you can stay,” said Merlin. “It’s fine.”
“I think perhaps I should leave,” said Gaius. He fetched his bottle off the tray and tucked it into his pocket. “I’m terribly sorry about your kitchen window. I’ll pay for it. Do you want me to clean up?”
“No,” said Arthur. “I’ll handle it.” He was staring down at himself again, as if still not quite able to believe what had happened to him. “It’s the least I can do. I - thank you. For this.”
Gaius blinked, then suddenly became very flustered. “Yes, well,” he said. “I should -” He hurried out of the room, then in again a few seconds later. “Could I possibly have a blood sample?”
-
Two blood samples, a lot of frowning and complaining and a half-hearted attempt at clearing up the mess in the kitchen later, they were seeing Gaius out the front door. Merlin stopped just short of the threshold out of habit while Arthur and Gaius went ahead down the path. He hadn’t been outside during the day in, what, sixty years? Well, maybe once, but it hadn’t ended well.
He took a few deep breaths - his lungs hadn’t quite stopped burning yet - and stepped forward into the sunlight.
He flinched on reflex and almost went straight back in, because it just felt so strange, but after he’d had a moment to adjust, it was…
Warm. Not that warm, because it was only spring, but still warmer than he remembered. It prickled up his arms, making his hair stand on end - his skin looked so pale, had it always been that pale? It looked normal in the dark. He took another few fumbling steps down the concrete path through the middle of the garden (or, well, the bedraggled lawn with a picnic table shoved in the middle, none of the tenants were big gardeners).
The grass looked so very green. His vision was worse, and yeah, that was driving him nuts already, but it was almost worth it to see actual colours again. Night-time got so grey after a while. The grass was bright green and the concrete beneath his feet was a dingy off-white and the car that trundled down the road as he watched was scarlet, and the sky, when he tilted his head back, was blue.
He didn’t know how long he’d been just standing and staring when Gaius called, “Good-bye, Merlin, I’ll see you soon.” He staggered slightly, startled.
“So how does it feel?” said Arthur.
Merlin looked up at the sky again. “I forgot how good this is. It’s been so long.”
Arthur followed his gaze. “Lucky it’s a nice day. British weather and all.”
“I don’t mind,” said Merlin. He steeled himself and turned to look at the sun itself. It was so bright it made his eyes sting.
“You’ll go blind if you do that,” said Arthur.
“Worth it,” said Merlin, shading his eyes. He stood quietly for a moment, savouring the feeling of sunlight on his skin. He’d probably never feel it again after today. The last time he’d felt it, he’d just taken it for granted. He hadn’t known it would be the last time, after all. Stupid.
“So, um,” said Arthur after a while. “We should probably go back inside and do something about the kitchen.”
“What?” said Merlin, dragging his gaze from the sky reluctantly. “Oh, come on. That can wait. You don’t know how long this is going to last; you can’t waste it cleaning!”
“Well, fine,” said Arthur. “What do you think we should do, then?”
“What’s this ‘we’?” said Merlin. “Since when do you want to spend time with me?” Arthur looked away, suddenly awkward all over, and Merlin hastened to add, “Not that I don’t want to. Spend time with you, I mean.”
“What are you going to do?” said Arthur.
“I’m staying right here,” said Merlin. He sat down on the doorstep and smiled up at Arthur.
“Fine, then,” said Arthur, sitting down next to him. “I’ll keep you company, shall I?” He paused. “Don’t you want to go somewhere else? There’s a park down the road.”
Merlin shook his head. “I don’t trust this stuff not to wear off at an awkward moment. That would not be pretty. Trust me.”
“Fair enough,” said Arthur. He poked at the grass with his toe. They were silent for a moment.
“Oh, God,” said Merlin. “I’m supposed to be working tonight. I can’t go to work like this!” He stretched out his shaking hands by way of demonstration.
“Like anyone’ll notice,” said Arthur.
“Half the people I work with are vampires,” said Merlin. “And half the other half are werewolves.”
“Oh. Alright, then,” said Arthur. “Where do you work, anyway?”
“Night shift in a call centre,” said Merlin. “There’s not that many options when you can’t go out during the day, really.”
“I guess not,” said Arthur. “You’ll have to call in sick or something.”
“It’ll look weird,” said Merlin. “Vampires don’t get sick very often.”
“Call in human, then,” said Arthur.
Merlin laughed. “You don’t have to stay here, you know,” he said. “If there’s somewhere you’d rather be today.”
“I’m fine here,” said Arthur. He slid down onto the path and lay back on his elbows, staring up at the sky.
“You’re much less grouchy when you’re like this,” said Merlin. “Does being a werewolf make you grouchy? Or are you just grouchy because you’re miserable?”
“I’m not miserable,” said Arthur.
“Your living room’s full of boxes and you won’t unpack them,” said Merlin.
“I unpacked some!” said Arthur. “I got my kitchen stuff out.”
“Yeah, then you put it back in the box,” said Merlin. “This is going to wear off pretty soon.”
“I know,” said Arthur.
“Just don’t get too used to it or anything,” said Merlin.
“I won’t,” said Arthur.
“I mean, I don’t want you to be too upset when you have to go back,” said Merlin.
“It’s alright,” said Arthur, very seriously. “I’m tough. I can handle it.”
“If you’re sure,” said Merlin.
“I handled it the first time, didn’t I?” said Arthur. “Three bloody weeks in a hospital bed, and I handled it just fine.”
“Sounds… messy,” said Merlin.
Arthur snorted. “How was it for you? Changing?”
“Surreal,” said Merlin. “I got… attacked. I guess.”
“You guess?” said Arthur.
Merlin swallowed. “Attacked. Seduced. It’s all the same thing, really. For us.” Arthur frowned. “Anyway, she cornered me in an alley when I was coming home from work and said a lot of stuff about eternal youth and power or something like that, I forget. I was pretty out of it. Then she turned me, and then she just sort of… swanned off.”
“Did you ever see her again?” said Arthur.
Merlin nodded. “I ran into her in a vampire bar in the sixties. It was really awkward.” Arthur laughed. “Anyway, I think I sort of staggered home and died on the doorstep. I must have scared the hell out of my mum, I don’t even know. Then I woke up a few hours later, freaked out, ran off, and I think I told you the next part already.” Arthur hmmed an affirmative. “What about you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Arthur quickly. He turned away, shifting about on the rough concrete of the path.
“Come on,” said Merlin. “I told you mine.”
“I didn’t ask you to start sharing,” said Arthur.
“Yes, you did,” said Merlin. “Come on. Spill.” He poked Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur didn’t respond. He was looking pointedly away, at the wire fence. Merlin’s grin faded. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said. “I mean, I guess it was more recent for you, right?”
“Right,” said Arthur. He shivered. “I don’t want to think about that right now. Let’s not talk about that.”
Merlin gave his shoulder a little squeeze. Arthur shrugged him off, but he smiled, so Merlin nudged him again, and again when Arthur nudged him straight back, and after that, things escalated through prodding and tickling until Arthur tackled him around the waist and dragged him off the step onto the straggly grass.
“Will you stop that?” said Arthur, once he had Merlin pinned on the lawn, fingers hot on his wrists. His tone was probably supposed to be annoyed, but he kept laughing.
Merlin squirmed and wriggled his way free and rolled them over. “No,” he said. “It’s fun.” Arthur scowled at him. His t-shirt had ridden up, revealing a strip of stomach and a few curls of blond hair. The sun was hot on the back of Merlin’s neck. Maybe he’d burn. He smiled at the thought, and that must have irritated Arthur, because he reached up and tickled Merlin under the ribs, sending him tumbling laughing onto the grass. Arthur held him down again, expression smug.
“There,” he said. “I win.”
“Alright, fine,” said Merlin. “You win.” He rolled his eyes, as if to say how childish. Arthur tickled him again, and he squirmed frantically. “I mean it! I surrender! I surrender!” Arthur kept at it a little longer, until Merlin was writhing beneath him, then sat back, smiling. Merlin hadn’t seen him smile that warmly before.
“I always win,” he said. He was framed in the sunlight, his hair lit up like a golden halo, and Merlin’s new heartbeat fluttered, and alright, perhaps he was a little infatuated.
Or possibly a lot infatuated.
Well, shit.
Part Four
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, with some Freya/Elena, Arthur/Gwaine and references to Arthur/Vivian
Wordcount: ~26,000
Summary: Written for this prompt on kinkme_merlin: Merlin (a vampire) and Arthur (a werewolf) share a flat but living together turns out to be slightly difficult since werewolves and vampires usually don't get on very well...
A/N: Beta'd by mizufae. Now edited with plotholes removed and some shiny new scenes.
Warnings: Some language, fantastic racism, touch of angst.
Masterlist
Part Two
“I don’t need you looking out for me, you know,” said Arthur early that morning when he ran into Merlin making his dinner in the kitchen, the blinds down snugly over the window.
“Hmm?” said Merlin.
“Last night,” said Arthur. “I can handle myself.”
“Against a whole room of vampires?” said Merlin, squeezing a bag of blood into a saucepan to warm it up.
“You know what I mean,” said Arthur. “Also your friends are a bunch of pricks.”
“They’re not so bad,” said Merlin. “They just don’t like werewolves.” He fetched a spoon out of the drawer and tucked in.
“Maybe you need better friends too,” said Arthur.
“Maybe.” Merlin shrugged.
Arthur had actually put a shirt on for once, a faded blue one that hung loose on his frame. He looked good in blue. He looked good in most things. Not that Merlin ever thought about how good Arthur looked. Maybe he would have done if Arthur were a vampire or a human, but werewolves were weird and gross and that was all there was to it.
“Why don’t you like werewolves?” Arthur asked suddenly.
“Well,” said Merlin. “Why don’t you like vampires?”
“Because you drink the blood of the living,” said Arthur. “It’s vile.” He paused. “And you smell all wrong.”
“And you’re hairy and disgusting and you smell like wet dog all the time,” said Merlin. “Goes both ways, see?”
“Well, we don’t kill people,” said Arthur.
“I’ve known plenty of people who got killed by werewolves,” said Merlin. “And I don’t kill people either. None of my friends do. Well, maybe Gilli, but he’s not really my friend, he just hangs around sometimes.”
“You can’t help what you do on the full moon,” said Arthur.
And he was right - it was silly and irrational, but it was a goddamn instinct. It was under Merlin’s skin, that sense that werewolves were all wrong, that they were diseased humans that he had to stay away from and not touch their blood, ever. He should have said something along those lines, but all he came out with was, “I guess, yeah,” and, “I’m going to finish this in my room.” He wandered away, clutching his dinner in both hands.
-
Merlin was woken up the next evening by something tickling his nose. He grumbled sleepily, rolled over, and opened his eyes. Something stinging trickled into them, and he blinked it away frantically with a yelp.
Arthur was standing over him, clutching a little tub in one hand, looking smug. Merlin stared up at him in confusion, then looked at his hands. They sparkled back at him. When he shook his head more glitter sprinkled across his pillow.
“Did you just pour glitter all over me?” he said.
“Yep,” said Arthur.
“What - why?” said Merlin.
“Why’d you think?” said Arthur.
Merlin scowled and lunged for the glitter. Arthur dodged out of his way and threw more of it in his face.
“Will you stop that?” said Merlin, half-rolling out of bed. “It’s in my eyes! It hurts!”
“Oh, grow a pair,” said Arthur. “I thought vampires were supposed to be tough.”
Merlin made another, more successful, grab for the glitter, and managed to pour it all down the front of Arthur’s t-shirt; Arthur snatched it back and tipped it over his head. The ensuing glitter-fight was thankfully brief, because there wasn’t all that much left, but by the time it was over there was glitter spread across most of his room.
“Look what you did!” said Merlin. He punched Arthur’s arm.
“Ow,” said Arthur. “You brought this on yourself. I didn’t do anything.”
“You poured glitter everywhere!” said Merlin.
“Yeah,” said Arthur. “Suits you. You look very pretty, Cullen.”
“Stop calling me that,” said Merlin. “I stopped calling you Fido, didn’t I?”
“You’re right,” said Arthur. “I’m sorry. You’re too ridiculous to be Edward Cullen.” Merlin lunged for him again. Arthur dodged, laughing.
“I am not ridiculous!” said Merlin. Though it was hard not to feel ridiculous when you were covered in glitter, really.
“Oh, come on,” said Arthur. “You’re clearly a pathetic excuse for a vampire. You pour blood on cereal and you wear bright colours all the time and you have the most awful ears I’ve ever seen.”
“What’s wrong with my ears?” said Merlin. “I like my ears.” He paused. “And what do you know about vampires, anyway?” And alright, maybe Arthur had a bit of a point there. That he was currently managing to make being covered in glitter look good didn’t help.
Arthur just shrugged in response. “Anyway, I was just waking you up to tell you that you got a letter today.”
“You couldn’t just have waited for me to get up?” said Merlin.
“Glitter was more fun,” said Arthur. “See you around.” He strutted out of the room, still radiating smugness, and Merlin scowled.
-
“You know, I’m not sure I like Chinese food,” Gaius said a few nights later, hovering in his kitchen while Merlin tried to cook sweet-and-sour for dinner.
“We went to China,” said Merlin. “And you ate the food, and you liked the food.”
“Well, yes,” said Gaius. “But that was in China. It wasn’t Chinese food then, it was just food.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Merlin. “It’s the same food wherever you eat it.”
“Well, my digestion isn’t what it was,” said Gaius darkly.
“Don’t you want some variation?” said Merlin.
“No,” said Gaius flatly. He adjusted his glasses and folded his arms.
“Fine,” said Merlin. “But this is what I’m cooking, so - Jesus Christ!” Michael the frog appeared right beside the cooker with a faint whooshing, and Merlin jumped, almost upsetting the whole pan. “Did you see that?” he said, pointing with his spoon. “You must have seen that!”
“Seen what?” said Gaius, then, “oh, it’s Michael. Hello, Michael.” He picked Michael up in both hands and smiled. Michael croaked, all-innocence.
“This sort of thing,” said Merlin, “is exactly why I moved out.” He shuddered and turned back to the cooker.
“I’m trying out something new at the moment, actually,” said Gaius. “A different angle to super-powers.”
“Oh, really?” said Merlin. “What sort of angle?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” said Gaius. He had his mysterious face on, so there was really no point trying any more. Merlin turned the stove off and began to serve dinner.
“Put the frog somewhere else, yeah?” he said.
“Oh, really,” said Gaius. “They’re part of the family.” He set Michael down beside his plate. Michael croaked and vanished again. Merlin rolled his eyes. “How’s Arthur?”
“He seems alright,” said Merlin. “He’s still not talking much. It’s the full moon in a few days, I think that makes him grouchy. Grouchier, anyway.”
Gaius looked pensive. “Full moon, hmm?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Merlin said.
“It must be very hard for him,” said Gaius. He lifted his cutlery and poked at his dinner suspiciously.
“Well, he doesn’t have to be such a prick about it,” said Merlin. “He keeps making Edward Cullen jokes.”
“What jokes?” said Gaius.
“Never mind,” said Merlin. He started eating. “The other day he poured glitter all over me while I was sleeping!”
“Honestly,” said Gaius, shaking his head. Merlin was about to nod in agreement, when Gaius said, “You two. You might as well be pulling each other’s pigtails.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Merlin.
“You know exactly what I mean,” said Gaius, because Merlin did. “You talk about him every time you come over here. You only do that when you’re infatuated.”
“I am not infatuated!” said Merlin. Gaius raised an eyebrow. “He’s - he’s a bloody werewolf! It’d be gross. Like, bestiality. Or something.”
“Only one night out of the month,” said Gaius. He smiled.
“You’re putting me off my dinner,” said Merlin. “Eurgh.” He pushed his plate away.
“You’re missing out,” said Gaius. “This is very good, you know.”
-
It was light outside when Arthur shook him awake, sunlight seeping into the bedroom despite his best efforts. Merlin pulled the covers over his head and groaned. “M’sorry. G’way. Sleeping.” It was two o’clock in the afternoon, he shouldn’t have to deal with this.
Arthur shook him harder. “I’m not just trying to annoy you,” he said. “Your brother’s here, he wants to talk to you. He says it’s urgent.”
Merlin peered out at him from under the quilt. “Gaius?” he said. Arthur nodded. “What did he want?”
“He didn’t say,” said Arthur. “He just waved his hands around a lot. He wasn’t very coherent. He said something about a breakthrough?”
Merlin blinked. Then he understood. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, no. Not again.” He threw the covers off and scrambled out of bed.
“What?” said Arthur. “What is it?”
“I’ll deal with it,” said Merlin. “Don’t worry.” He hurried away. Arthur followed him a moment later, whether out of genuine concern or just curiosity Merlin wasn’t sure.
“Alright,” he said when he reached the kitchen. “What did you do?”
“Ah, Merlin!” said Gaius cheerfully. He was beaming away, midway through unpacking his battered satchel onto the kitchen table. Merlin frowned. He had expected more fear and screaming and possibly mutant frogs. “There you are! So sorry to wake you.”
“Gaius, what did you do?” said Merlin. “Please tell me you haven’t burned another house down or something.” He rubbed his eyes. He was too tired for this.
“Oh no, nothing like that,” said Gaius. “I’ve had a bit of a breakthrough and I needed test subjects right away, before it decays.”
Merlin stared at him, confused. It took a moment for his sleepy brain to process what he’d just heard. “No,” he said. “Oh, no. No way. Remember what I said after last time?”
“Oh, come now, Merlin -”
“Don’t you ‘come now, Merlin’, me!” said Merlin. “What did I say, Gaius? What did I say after the rabbit incident?”
Gaius sighed. “You said you’d never be my guinea pig again, as long as you lived.”
“Exactly,” said Merlin. He folded his arms. “Whatever that stuff is, you cannot test it on people. I won’t allow it.”
“Well, fine,” said Gaius. “Be that way.” He turned away. “Arthur? How about you?”
“What?” said Arthur, starting. He’d been lounging in the doorway, smirking to himself. “What have I got to do with anything?”
“Well, it would work on you too,” said Gaius.
“No, thanks,” said Arthur.
“It’s perfectly safe,” said Gaius. “I’ve found away to reverse supernatural genetic changes, it should only -”
“Gaius, just leave it -” Merlin began, but Arthur shushed him.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“It should be able to restore your DNA to its unaltered condition,” said Gaius. “It targets the supernatural genes to engage in an enzymatic sub-molecular cleansing -”
“Yes, alright,” said Arthur. “Are you saying it would make me - that it would put me back the way I was?”
“Well, the effects would only be temporary, of course,” said Gaius.
“How temporary?” said Arthur.
“A day at the most,” said Gaius. Arthur’s shoulders sagged. “But if I can find test subjects, then in the near future -”
“Alright,” said Arthur. “I’ll do it.”
“No, you won’t,” said Merlin. He turned to Gaius. “No, he won’t.”
“Yes, I will,” said Arthur.
“You don’t want to do that,” said Merlin. “You have no idea what it’ll do to you. It’s not safe.”
“It’s perfectly safe, thank you,” said Gaius.
“Gaius, look,” said Merlin. “You’re my brother and I love you very much, but you’re really bad at this. Okay?”
“Stop trying to put off my test subject!” said Gaius. “I’ve been working on this all week!”
“It was bad enough when you killed all the frogs,” said Merlin. “I am not letting you inflict whatever it is you’ve made on people.” He folded his arms.
Gaius scowled and turned to Arthur. “Please ignore him. He’s always losing faith in me.”
“Duly noted,” said Arthur. “Don’t worry, I’m still up for this.”
“I am not -” Merlin gave up on Gaius and tried Arthur instead. “Look, just think about what you’re doing. You have no idea how much this could fuck you up.”
Arthur shrugged. “What have I got to lose?” he said.
“You don’t mean that,” said Merlin. “You don’t want to do this!”
“I want my life back!” Arthur snapped.
“Fine,” said Merlin. He turned to Gaius, who was inspecting his collection of little bottles. “You know what? I’ll do it. Leave Arthur out of this.”
“You will?” said Gaius. “Excellent! Two test subjects!” He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Could one of you possibly lend me a saucepan?”
Merlin rolled his eyes and pleaded toward the ceiling.
-
Gaius was still clattering about in the kitchen half an hour later, his work punctuated by frantic mumbling and flashes of light and puffs of fishy-smelling smoke. Merlin and Arthur had relocated to the living room to keep out of the way.
Merlin was pacing up and down (and he’d always thought people didn’t actually do that, but he was just too restless to stay still). “Oh, God,” he said. “Oh God. Oh God.”
“Will you stop that?” said Arthur, slouched on the sofa. “You’re making me anxious.” He switched on the television and began to flick through the channels, eventually settling on the football. Merlin snatched the remote away and turned it off. “Hey!” Arthur snapped.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” said Merlin, gesturing with the remote. “You don’t know Gaius. Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” said Arthur.
“He burned down our house,” said Merlin. “Twice. He blew up the washing machine, and the fridge. He made a mutant… thing that they had to get the army in to deal with. His first batch of super-frogs exploded, and there’s still stains all over the walls. He ripped a hole in the fabric of space-time and now we can’t go in the attic any more, because it’s out of sync with the rest of the house. He’s a menace. He’s going to get us both killed.”
Right,” said Arthur. He sat back against the sofa and smiled. “You don’t have to do it, you know. I’m sure he won’t mind. I mean, you’re only his brother, it’s not like he cares that you don’t trust him or anything.”
Merlin sank down onto the sofa with a whimper. “I hate you so much.”
“I know,” said Arthur.
There was one last loud bang from the kitchen and a tinkle of breaking glass. A tense, silent minute later, Gaius pottered in, carrying a tea tray with a green glass bottle and two shot glasses he must have stolen from Arthur. “All done,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“No,” said Merlin. “No really.”
Gaius just smiled and began to pour the… whatever it was into the glasses. It was a dull, metallic blue, with a thick, syrupy consistency. It took a lot of shaking and muttering to fill the two glasses. “There, now,” said Gaius, setting the bottle down.
“Are those my shot glasses?” said Arthur absently.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Gaius. “I’ll wash them for you.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Arthur.
“Oh, so he’s allowed to use your things,” said Merlin. He stood up and backed away from the tray. “This is a terrible idea. I’m not drinking that stuff.” Gaius looked crestfallen.
“Don’t worry,” said Arthur. He stood up and selected one of the glasses carefully. “I’m still in.”
“We might both explode!” said Merlin.
“Or we might not,” said Arthur.
“If either of you explodes I’ll pay to have the room cleaned,” said Gaius brightly.
“Oh, that’s so comforting,” said Merlin. He took the other glass and stared down at it glumly, stomach churning.
Arthur was sniffing at his. “It smells like fish,” he said. “Why does it smell like fish?”
“Ah, well, it’s made from salmon brai -”
“Never mind,” said Arthur, holding up a hand. “I really don’t want to know what went into this.” He lifted his glass as if he were toasting Merlin, said, “Cheers, then,” and downed it.
And that, Merlin supposed, was that. He couldn’t back down now. He raised the glass to his lips and drank the vile stuff as quickly as he could, then gagged, one hand covering his mouth.
“It tastes like burnt rubber,” he said, still choking slightly. “It smells like fish, how come it tastes like rubber?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Gaius. “Do you feel any different?”
“Not really,” said Merlin. On the other side of the room, Arthur was frowning down at his glass, as if he’d expected more than just a mouthful of foul, slimy goo as well. Other than the taste - which had spread all the way to the back of his throat, it would be stuck there for days - he felt fine. “I feel fine,” he said.
Gaius turned to Arthur, who shrugged. “It tastes disgusting, you should do something about that.” He set his glass back down on the tray.
“Oh,” said Gaius. “Oh, well. Back to the drawing board, I suppose.”
Merlin opened his mouth to agree - or perhaps to dissuade Gaius from trying again, he hadn’t decided yet - when he felt something at last.
It started as a slow, spreading heat in his guts, then a burning stabbing pain that had him doubled over, a searing agony that sent him crumpled to his knees and oh jesus fucking christ what had he done.
He had to breathe. He needed to breathe so badly, for half a minute all he could do was gulp down lungful after lungful of air, there was no room to think, no room for anything but desperate breath after desperate breath, his lungs straining and aching, every inch of his skin on fire. He slumped down still further, lay on his side on the floor, his breaths slowing. He could feel his stuttering pulse racing under his skin, and it suddenly dawned on him just what that meant.
He was alive.
Gaius loomed over him, hands clutching his shoulders frantically. “Merlin?” he was saying. “Merlin, are you alright?”
“I can’t - fuck,” said Merlin. “Gaius, what did you do?” He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. His heart was beating in his chest for the first time in sixty-three years, and it hurt. It hurt quite a lot. And it felt incredible. He clenched his hands into fists, relishing the feel of blood flowing under his skin - he’d felt this before, he’d felt it for twenty-two straight years. How had he not noticed how amazing it had felt?
He felt Gaius’s fingers on his neck, searching out his pulse, then a gasp that was somewhere between shock and relief. “Well, I didn’t think that would actually work,” said Gaius. “Are you alright?”
“It hurts,” Merlin gasped out. Gaius pulled him up and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close, with a sound that might have been a sob, because Merlin was alive, he was alive.
The moment was broken by the sound of Arthur retching. “Don’t mind me,” he said, voice hoarse. Gaius let go of Merlin, muttered apologies, and hurried to check on Arthur. Merlin blinked and rubbed at his eyes. It looked like Arthur had thrown up at least once.
It was hard to tell, though, he realised as he dragged himself upright. His legs were shaking, and his senses had all dimmed. The room felt like a blur around him, every sound muted, and he could hardly smell anything at all.
After a moment, Arthur sat back on his heels and wiped at his mouth. “I’m fine,” he said to Gaius. “I think. I’m fine. I feel better now.” He stared down at his own hands, at his body, then turned and stared right into Merlin’s eyes, and Merlin almost lost his breath again.
Arthur was human. He had to be. Whatever it was that had repulsed Merlin so - the beast, the infection, the thing - was gone, and how he was just a ridiculously gorgeous human, looking up at Merlin with a brilliant, infectious joy in his eyes. He surged upright and near-threw himself across the room, arms wrapping around Merlin, pulling him into a hug so tight his lungs screamed at the effort of breathing.
“Can’t breathe,” he gasped out. Arthur let go of him and drew back (or mostly, anyway, his hands stayed on Merlin’s waist).
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” said Merlin. “Just. Lungs. I haven’t used them in a while, it’ll take a bit of getting used to.” Everything hurt still.
“Right,” said Arthur. “That. Makes sense.”
He stared at Merlin, eyes bright. Merlin stared back.
After a moment, Gaius cleared his throat, and they broke apart, backing away from each other. “Well, I think we can call that a success,” he said. He looked at Arthur, who was looking at the wall, suddenly all awkward, then at Merlin, and said, “Should I leave?”
“No, you can stay,” said Merlin. “It’s fine.”
“I think perhaps I should leave,” said Gaius. He fetched his bottle off the tray and tucked it into his pocket. “I’m terribly sorry about your kitchen window. I’ll pay for it. Do you want me to clean up?”
“No,” said Arthur. “I’ll handle it.” He was staring down at himself again, as if still not quite able to believe what had happened to him. “It’s the least I can do. I - thank you. For this.”
Gaius blinked, then suddenly became very flustered. “Yes, well,” he said. “I should -” He hurried out of the room, then in again a few seconds later. “Could I possibly have a blood sample?”
-
Two blood samples, a lot of frowning and complaining and a half-hearted attempt at clearing up the mess in the kitchen later, they were seeing Gaius out the front door. Merlin stopped just short of the threshold out of habit while Arthur and Gaius went ahead down the path. He hadn’t been outside during the day in, what, sixty years? Well, maybe once, but it hadn’t ended well.
He took a few deep breaths - his lungs hadn’t quite stopped burning yet - and stepped forward into the sunlight.
He flinched on reflex and almost went straight back in, because it just felt so strange, but after he’d had a moment to adjust, it was…
Warm. Not that warm, because it was only spring, but still warmer than he remembered. It prickled up his arms, making his hair stand on end - his skin looked so pale, had it always been that pale? It looked normal in the dark. He took another few fumbling steps down the concrete path through the middle of the garden (or, well, the bedraggled lawn with a picnic table shoved in the middle, none of the tenants were big gardeners).
The grass looked so very green. His vision was worse, and yeah, that was driving him nuts already, but it was almost worth it to see actual colours again. Night-time got so grey after a while. The grass was bright green and the concrete beneath his feet was a dingy off-white and the car that trundled down the road as he watched was scarlet, and the sky, when he tilted his head back, was blue.
He didn’t know how long he’d been just standing and staring when Gaius called, “Good-bye, Merlin, I’ll see you soon.” He staggered slightly, startled.
“So how does it feel?” said Arthur.
Merlin looked up at the sky again. “I forgot how good this is. It’s been so long.”
Arthur followed his gaze. “Lucky it’s a nice day. British weather and all.”
“I don’t mind,” said Merlin. He steeled himself and turned to look at the sun itself. It was so bright it made his eyes sting.
“You’ll go blind if you do that,” said Arthur.
“Worth it,” said Merlin, shading his eyes. He stood quietly for a moment, savouring the feeling of sunlight on his skin. He’d probably never feel it again after today. The last time he’d felt it, he’d just taken it for granted. He hadn’t known it would be the last time, after all. Stupid.
“So, um,” said Arthur after a while. “We should probably go back inside and do something about the kitchen.”
“What?” said Merlin, dragging his gaze from the sky reluctantly. “Oh, come on. That can wait. You don’t know how long this is going to last; you can’t waste it cleaning!”
“Well, fine,” said Arthur. “What do you think we should do, then?”
“What’s this ‘we’?” said Merlin. “Since when do you want to spend time with me?” Arthur looked away, suddenly awkward all over, and Merlin hastened to add, “Not that I don’t want to. Spend time with you, I mean.”
“What are you going to do?” said Arthur.
“I’m staying right here,” said Merlin. He sat down on the doorstep and smiled up at Arthur.
“Fine, then,” said Arthur, sitting down next to him. “I’ll keep you company, shall I?” He paused. “Don’t you want to go somewhere else? There’s a park down the road.”
Merlin shook his head. “I don’t trust this stuff not to wear off at an awkward moment. That would not be pretty. Trust me.”
“Fair enough,” said Arthur. He poked at the grass with his toe. They were silent for a moment.
“Oh, God,” said Merlin. “I’m supposed to be working tonight. I can’t go to work like this!” He stretched out his shaking hands by way of demonstration.
“Like anyone’ll notice,” said Arthur.
“Half the people I work with are vampires,” said Merlin. “And half the other half are werewolves.”
“Oh. Alright, then,” said Arthur. “Where do you work, anyway?”
“Night shift in a call centre,” said Merlin. “There’s not that many options when you can’t go out during the day, really.”
“I guess not,” said Arthur. “You’ll have to call in sick or something.”
“It’ll look weird,” said Merlin. “Vampires don’t get sick very often.”
“Call in human, then,” said Arthur.
Merlin laughed. “You don’t have to stay here, you know,” he said. “If there’s somewhere you’d rather be today.”
“I’m fine here,” said Arthur. He slid down onto the path and lay back on his elbows, staring up at the sky.
“You’re much less grouchy when you’re like this,” said Merlin. “Does being a werewolf make you grouchy? Or are you just grouchy because you’re miserable?”
“I’m not miserable,” said Arthur.
“Your living room’s full of boxes and you won’t unpack them,” said Merlin.
“I unpacked some!” said Arthur. “I got my kitchen stuff out.”
“Yeah, then you put it back in the box,” said Merlin. “This is going to wear off pretty soon.”
“I know,” said Arthur.
“Just don’t get too used to it or anything,” said Merlin.
“I won’t,” said Arthur.
“I mean, I don’t want you to be too upset when you have to go back,” said Merlin.
“It’s alright,” said Arthur, very seriously. “I’m tough. I can handle it.”
“If you’re sure,” said Merlin.
“I handled it the first time, didn’t I?” said Arthur. “Three bloody weeks in a hospital bed, and I handled it just fine.”
“Sounds… messy,” said Merlin.
Arthur snorted. “How was it for you? Changing?”
“Surreal,” said Merlin. “I got… attacked. I guess.”
“You guess?” said Arthur.
Merlin swallowed. “Attacked. Seduced. It’s all the same thing, really. For us.” Arthur frowned. “Anyway, she cornered me in an alley when I was coming home from work and said a lot of stuff about eternal youth and power or something like that, I forget. I was pretty out of it. Then she turned me, and then she just sort of… swanned off.”
“Did you ever see her again?” said Arthur.
Merlin nodded. “I ran into her in a vampire bar in the sixties. It was really awkward.” Arthur laughed. “Anyway, I think I sort of staggered home and died on the doorstep. I must have scared the hell out of my mum, I don’t even know. Then I woke up a few hours later, freaked out, ran off, and I think I told you the next part already.” Arthur hmmed an affirmative. “What about you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Arthur quickly. He turned away, shifting about on the rough concrete of the path.
“Come on,” said Merlin. “I told you mine.”
“I didn’t ask you to start sharing,” said Arthur.
“Yes, you did,” said Merlin. “Come on. Spill.” He poked Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur didn’t respond. He was looking pointedly away, at the wire fence. Merlin’s grin faded. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said. “I mean, I guess it was more recent for you, right?”
“Right,” said Arthur. He shivered. “I don’t want to think about that right now. Let’s not talk about that.”
Merlin gave his shoulder a little squeeze. Arthur shrugged him off, but he smiled, so Merlin nudged him again, and again when Arthur nudged him straight back, and after that, things escalated through prodding and tickling until Arthur tackled him around the waist and dragged him off the step onto the straggly grass.
“Will you stop that?” said Arthur, once he had Merlin pinned on the lawn, fingers hot on his wrists. His tone was probably supposed to be annoyed, but he kept laughing.
Merlin squirmed and wriggled his way free and rolled them over. “No,” he said. “It’s fun.” Arthur scowled at him. His t-shirt had ridden up, revealing a strip of stomach and a few curls of blond hair. The sun was hot on the back of Merlin’s neck. Maybe he’d burn. He smiled at the thought, and that must have irritated Arthur, because he reached up and tickled Merlin under the ribs, sending him tumbling laughing onto the grass. Arthur held him down again, expression smug.
“There,” he said. “I win.”
“Alright, fine,” said Merlin. “You win.” He rolled his eyes, as if to say how childish. Arthur tickled him again, and he squirmed frantically. “I mean it! I surrender! I surrender!” Arthur kept at it a little longer, until Merlin was writhing beneath him, then sat back, smiling. Merlin hadn’t seen him smile that warmly before.
“I always win,” he said. He was framed in the sunlight, his hair lit up like a golden halo, and Merlin’s new heartbeat fluttered, and alright, perhaps he was a little infatuated.
Or possibly a lot infatuated.
Well, shit.
Part Four