A Tale of Two Arthurs 2/3
Merlin’s mother lived in a tiny little terraced house, forests of potted plants decorating the windowsill, little hand-made hangings and decorations all over the walls. It smelled of tea and flowers and soap. It made Arthur wish he’d grown up there as well.
The sofa was big and saggy, covered in a soft blanket. She sat him down, gave him a cup of tea and a plate of home made biscuits, then dragged Merlin away through the bead curtain into the kitchen to help out.
Their voices carried down the hall. Arthur edged his way down the sofa to listen.
“You didn’t tell me he was so handsome,” she was saying. He smiled.
“Mum, shush!” said Merlin. “I think he can hear you.”
“So?” she said. “He won’t mind. Turn the oven on, will you?” Then, a moment later, “Thanks, love.”
He could hear Merlin’s feet squeaking on the linoleum as he shifted about awkwardly.
“Mum, I need to talk to you about something,” he said. “I. Um.”
Arthur got up, tea cup in one hand and biscuit in the other, and wandered through to the kitchen. The woven mats in the hallway were rough beneath his feet.
“Hi,” he said. “I got bored. Sorry.”
“It’s no problem,” said Hunith, handing him a fresh saucer. “Do you like the biscuits? It’s a new recipe.”
“They’re delicious,” said Arthur. “I see where Merlin gets it from.”
Merlin turned his head away, bashful, smiling. It made Arthur want to go and put his arms around him. He wished he wasn’t holding a cup of tea.
“What were you saying, Merlin?” said Hunith, fetching a jar out of the cupboard.
“I, um,” said Merlin, his eyes flicking from Arthur to his mother and back again. Then he took a deep breath. “Mum. Arthur’s asked me to move in with him.”
“That’s wonderful, love,” she said as she unscrewed the jar. “How soon?”
There was a pause. “You’re not bothered, then?” said Merlin. Arthur ate another bite of his biscuit.
“Why would I be bothered?” she asked.
“Well, I thought you might think it was too soon, because we’ve only been going out for a month or so,” said Merlin, “and also, I thought you might miss me. Maybe. I mean I’ve been living here for a while now…”
Hunith put the jar down on the worktop. “Merlin,” she said. “You told me you were going to be moving back in for a month, tops. That was two years ago.” Merlin ducked his head. “I’m not saying it hasn’t been nice having you back, but you’re a grown man now. You need to get on with things. Besides, I have a good feeling about you two.”
Arthur finished off his biscuit. “Really?” said Merlin.
“I’ve seen the way you look at each other,” she said. She turned to Arthur. “If you’re going to be in here, you might as well help us make dinner.”
“Oh,” said Arthur. “No. Sorry, I’ve never really cooked before, I’ll just ruin everything.”
She took a hold of his wrists and guided him over to the sink.
“I mean it,” he said. “I can’t do anything more complicated than pasta with baked beans.”
“That sounds disgusting,” she said.
“It is,” said Merlin grimly. “Trust me.”
“It’s only pasta bake, Arthur,” said Hunith. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on you.”
Dinner was delicious, and knowing he’d helped make it was surprisingly satisfying.
KA
Their third date was in a cocktail bar that Arthur had been to a few times with people from work. He realised once they arrived that he might not have quite thought it through. Merlin was tense, nervous, as if he felt out of place.
Arthur slipped an arm around his shoulders as they stood waiting at the bar.
“I’m fine,” said Merlin, with a little sigh, but he didn’t shrug Arthur off. “I just don’t know what’s in half of these and it doesn’t say.”
Arthur was about to answer when someone said his name, just behind them, tinged with surprise and maybe even shock. He turned around, resisting the sudden urge to let go of Merlin at once.
“Leon,” he said, relieved. Leon was more laid-back than most of the men he worked with. “Hi. How’s it going?”
“Good,” said Leon. He folded his arms, awkward, and nodded at Merlin. “So who’s this, then?”
Arthur’s mouth dried up. This had to happen before he’d had a drink, didn’t it? He could feel Merlin’s expectant anxious gaze on him. “This is Merlin,” he said after a moment or two. “He’s my boyfriend. Merlin, this is Leon.”
Merlin smiled and disentangled his arm from Arthur to shake hands. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Leon. “I didn’t know Arthur was seeing someone.”
“It’s kind of a recent development,” said Arthur.
“Oh,” said Leon. “Well, I’ve got to run, just got a phone call. You’ll have to introduce us properly later, alright?”
Once he was gone, Arthur frowned. “Huh.”
“What’s up?” said Merlin. He had relaxed, Arthur realised. The tension had seeped out of him. Arthur squeezed his shoulder and smiled.
“That went a lot better than I expected,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Merlin. He twisted around, back towards the bar, and opened the menu again. “I was kind of expecting you to say we were just mates or something.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Arthur. “I care what you think of me more than I care what he thinks of me.”
Merlin turned to face him, eyebrows raised, a smile pulling at his lips, and Arthur couldn’t help but kiss him, in the middle of a cocktail bar, where anyone could see. It felt even better than he’d expected.
Of course, even though Leon wasn’t the type to gossip, he must have mentioned it to someone, because by the next morning Arthur had emails from half his office, Lance, Morgana, and, most terrifying of all, his father, all variations on a theme.
Oh, well. He could deal with it. But first he was going to call Merlin.
B
They spent the night in Merlin’s room. He only had a single bed, so Hunith had helpfully provided a mattress on the floor.
“D’you think this is her way of saying we shouldn’t have sex in her house?” said Arthur, perching on the squashy edge of it.
Merlin blushed. “Well, I wouldn’t anyway,” he said. “There’s really not enough space in a single, though.”
“I’m sure we could manage,” said Arthur. He tugged off his socks. “Your Mum’s great, by the way.”
“I know,” said Merlin with a fond smile.
Arthur lasted about half an hour, once they turned the lights out, before he crawled over and joined Merlin in his bed. It was a snug fit, the two of them all tangled up, intimate. Merlin muttered and complained, but from the way he sighed and snuggled closer, Arthur could tell he didn’t really mind.
KA
Merlin was waiting for him when he got home, seized him the moment he was in the door and pressed him against the wall, a predatory lustful glint in his eye. Arthur’s briefcase fell from his fingers, unnoticed.
Merlin knelt, fell to his knees on the floor, and began to work Arthur’s trousers open, fingers brushing his crotch, and by the time he reached inside Arthur was already half-hard.
“You like that?” he said, fingers wrapping around the head of Arthur’s prick, teasing his foreskin, and he was all the way hard, now. All he could manage was a moan. “Oh yeah, you like that.”
He leaned forward, took just the very tip into his mouth and sucked gently, teasing, toying with him. It was all Arthur could do not to come right there and then.
“More,” he choked out, desperate. “Please.” His head fell back against the wall with a thump. “Fuck.”
Merlin obliged for once, wrapped his hand around the base and sucked him in smoothly, as much as he could take, then moaned around him, as if he was getting off on this too.
“Oh God,” said Arthur. “Do that thing. With your tongue. Yeah, that.” He groaned, thrust forward into Merlin’s mouth. He was going to come soon, embarrassingly quick, and he didn’t care, he really didn’t care. He wanted to tell Merlin all sorts of things, wonderful things, praise him outrageously, but instead he bit his tongue, hard, and thrust again.
Merlin moaned, moved back and forth, somehow taking Arthur even deeper, then drew back altogether, leaving him hot and wet, blinked up at him. “You like?” he said.
“You fucking tease,” Arthur moaned. “Get on with it.”
Merlin smiled, leaned forward and bloody licked him, traced the veins, from root to tip, toyed with the slit, sucking up drops of pre-come. Arthur opened his mouth to order him, beg him, anything¸ but the words wouldn’t come, so he just thrust forward again, forced himself between Merlin’s lips. Merlin sucked him, hard and eager, not teasing now, until his toes curled and his knees went limp and his eyes fluttered closed and oh bloody fucking hell.
He slid down the wall, softening cock hanging out of his trousers. Merlin suddenly seemed to loom over him, wiping at his mouth, grinning.
“Happy anniversary,” he said. “Dinner’s in the kitchen. I made chocolate carrot cake.”
“I love you,” said Arthur. Then, “Are you going to do this every year? Please say you’re going to do this every year.”
Merlin’s grin broadened. “You’ll just have to wait and see, I guess,” he said.
B
They had Morgana round for dinner as soon as they were both moved in, Merlin’s stuff filling Arthur’s kitchen cupboards better than his own ever would have done. She arrived at the door, all high-heels and skirt-suit, straight from work, clutching a bottle of wine.
“So, who was it you wanted me to meet, then?” she said once she was in the door.
“Oh, right,” said Arthur. He guided her towards the kitchen. “Morgana, Merlin. Merlin, this is my sister Morgana.”
Merlin dried his hands off on a dish towel, smiled. “Hi,” he said. “It’s really great to meet you.”
Morgana gaped. “Oh,” she said. Arthur tried to hide his smile. He had never seen her speechless before. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, it’s just I kind of thought you were an imaginary friend. Or something.”
Merlin laughed. “No, I exist,” he said. “Or at least I think I do.”
“Well, now we’re just getting existential,” she said.
“So, as you can see,” Arthur said, patting her on the shoulder. “Some people really are called Merlin.”
The timer on the oven dinged. Merlin dived for it, muttering something about chocolate pudding. Morgana smiled.
An hour later, midway through the meal, when Merlin had vanished back into the kitchen to get the pudding, Morgana pounced.
“Arthur, where did you find him?” she hissed. “He’s perfect. He’s adorable. I want one in my flat too.”
Arthur sat back in his chair, smug. “Well, he’s mine, and you can’t have him.”
“I’m serious,” said Morgana. “Why didn’t you introduce us before? I never in a million years thought you’d actually date anyone worthwhile. Or likeable.”
“Hey!” said Arthur. Then he stopped protesting, because it was true, he really did attract nothing but nutters and bimbos.
“And he cooks as well,” said Morgana. “You’re going to have to marry him, you realise.”
Arthur leaned forward again, lowered his voice. “I’ll get back to you on that, okay?”
Merlin re-appeared, hands nestled in his oven gloves. “I’ll be a few more minutes, okay?” he said. “It might have got a very tiny bit burned. But only a tiny bit!” Then he was off again, dashing back down the hall.
Morgana stared at her wineglass, pensive. “What?” said Arthur, suddenly anxious. He didn’t like it when Morgana got that look on her face.
“I don’t suppose he has a brother, does he?” she said.
Before he could answer, Merlin dashed back in with the pudding and a jug of chocolate sauce balanced on a tray. “It’s fine now,” he said. “I fixed it.” He beamed down at them. They both smiled back. “What were you talking about?”
“Oh,” said Morgana breezily. “You.”
Merlin frowned. Arthur and Morgana laughed.
(The chocolate pudding was as fantastic as always.)
KA
Arthur was glowing with pride when he knocked on the door of Merlin’s flat. Not even the amount of time Merlin took to answer could take the shine off his good mood.
“Ah, there you are,” he said. “Put your shoes on. I have a surprise for you.”
“Um,” said Merlin. “I’m. In my pyjamas.”
“I can see that, Merlin,” said Arthur. “And I don’t care. Hurry up, will you?”
“It can’t wait ten minutes?” said Merlin, frowning sleepily.
“No,” said Arthur, thrusting the nearest pair of shoes at him. “Get moving.”
Five minutes later, Merlin was stumbling down the steps onto the pavement, blinking at Arthur’s car. “What’s the surprise?” he said.
“I can’t tell you that,” said Arthur. “Or it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Get in the car.”
“I don’t much like surprises,” said Merlin, rubbing his eyes. He stood shivering on the curb. “What kind of surprise?”
“A big surprise,” said Arthur. He reached around and opened the passenger side door.
“Come on.”
“That’s the worst kind,” said Merlin, grumpy, but he got in the car, settled himself back against the leather seat, fastened his seatbelt. “How far away is it?”
“Just a few minutes,” said Arthur, then when Merlin still looked uncertain, “Trust me. You’ll love it, alright?”
“If you say so,” said Merlin.
He kept frowning for the whole drive, as they turned the last corner into a broad street and pulled up outside a block of flats. It was an old building, dark stone, the front door set back into a porch.
“This is it,” said Arthur, ushering Merlin out of the car.
“Arthur, what -” Merlin fell silent as Arthur produced the key for the front door.
“Fourth floor,” he said. “Right at the top. We’re taking the lift. Come on.” He guided Merlin inside, one hand pressed to his back.
Merlin stood awkwardly in the lift, tugging at his pyjama top. It was an old t-shirt, somehow stretched and slightly too small at the same time. “I feel silly,” he said.
“Why?” asked Arthur.
“I’m in a lift in a strange building,” said Merlin, “and I’m in my pyjamas. Arthur, what are we doing here?”
“You’ll see,” said Arthur, just as the doors began to open. “Come on. Number eight. It’s just down here.”
He handed Merlin the key, still on the little plastic tag from the estate agent. Merlin stared, dumbfounded, tracing the figure eight on the door with his eyes. “What is this?” he said.
“Open the door,” said Arthur. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”
Merlin bit his lip and fitted the key into the lock.
Inside, it was bright and airy, with interesting slants and angles to the ceilings. Merlin turned a slow circle in the middle of the empty living room, eyes lighting up.
“What do you think?” said Arthur, lounging against the doorframe.
“It’s great,” said Merlin. “I mean - it’s huge. Arthur, what -”
“You wait till you see the kitchen,” said Arthur. He darted forward and took Merlin by the shoulder. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He led him gently down the hall, off the carpet, onto the smooth shiny tiles.
“You like it?” he said, snaking an arm around Merlin’s waist.
“Yes,” said Merlin. “Yeah, you were right. I love it. I just, I don’t -”
“You want to live here?” said Arthur. He held his breath.
Merlin was still and silent in his arms. “Um,” he said eventually. “I’ve only been awake for about fifteen minutes and I’m still in my pyjamas and I was working in the library till one last night, and I’m still kind of asleep, so you’re going to have to be really to the point, yeah?”
Arthur sighed and twisted Merlin around. “I want us to live here,” he said. “Together.
How does that sound?”
“Arthur, we can’t afford this,” said Merlin.
“No, you can’t afford this,” said Arthur. “I can.” He smiled. Merlin frowned.
“I’m not, sure,” he said. “I mean, I love it, and it’s closer to the university and all, and, and, it’s lovely, but I don’t want you to… well, I can’t just…”
“Yes, you can,” said Arthur, taking him by the shoulders. “And you’re going to have to get sure, I’m afraid. See, I already bought it for you.”
Merlin’s eyes widened. “What.”
“I bought it,” said Arthur. “Yesterday. I took the day off work and came here instead.”
“And you didn’t think you might want to ask me first,” said Merlin.
Arthur shrugged. “I know what you like,” he said. “And I know what I want. Come on. Say yes. You know you want to.” Merlin turned away, gazed out the window. “Merlin, you should see the size of the bedroom. We could get a king-sized bed in there. Imagine what we could do with a king-sized bed!” Merlin still didn’t answer. “Don’t say yes because you feel you have to, though. I mean, if you don’t think we’re ready, I won’t mind -”
“No,” said Merlin, shaking his head. “No, you’re right. This is - this is what I want too. But you have to let me pay you back, alright?”
“You don’t have to do that,” said Arthur.
“No,” said Merlin. “No, I want to.” His arms slipped around Arthur’s neck. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” said Arthur, hugging him back. “Now, let’s go get breakfast, yeah?”
“I’m paying,” said Merlin, voice sleepy, muffled by Arthur’s shoulder.
B
The last time Arthur had seen his father face-to-face, they’d been in another universe, and it hadn’t been his father, not really, and this was probably going to be the most nerve-wracking thing he’d ever done.
He’d told himself over and over that it would be fine, it had been fine in the other universe, but that didn’t help as much as he hoped it would. By the time he was standing outside the office door, he was practically shaking.
He took a few deep breaths. Knocked on the door. The silence seemed to go on far too long (long enough that he began to wonder if his father just wasn’t there, which was a relief and a disappointment all at once).
“Come in,” said his father at last. He took another deep breath and opened the door.
Inside, it smelled sharp and clean and papery. The carpet was so soft he could feel it through his shoes. His father was behind his desk. He did not look up.
“Arthur,” he said crisply. “Sit down.”
“Um, no,” said Arthur. “I, uh, I think I’d rather do this standing up, actually.”
That did it. His father turned to face him, one eyebrow raised, quizzical. “Is something wrong?” he said.
“No,” said Arthur. “Not wrong, exactly. I just wanted to talk to you about something and I thought it would be better to do it face to face.”
“I see,” said his father, eyes flicking back down to his papers, clearly thinking that this was a waste of time. But he motioned for Arthur to go on.
“I just,” said Arthur, “I’ve been seeing someone.”
“That’s excellent,” said his father. “Really. I was starting to worry. Is she anyone I
know?”
“No,” said Arthur. “No, you don’t know him.” Uther’s eyebrows shot up. “His name’s Merlin.”
“I see,” said his father, tone unreadable. “And what does he do?”
“I’m sorry?” said Arthur.
“His job,” said Uther.
“Oh,” said Arthur. “Well, he doesn’t really have a job.”
“So he’s unemployed, then?” said his father. After your money.
“No,” said Arthur. “No, it’s not like that. He’s a student.”
Uther’s eyebrows climbed even higher. “I see.”
“No, it’s - he’s working on his PhD, alright? He’s my age.”
“What’s he studying?” said his father.
“Ah, medieval poetry,” said Arthur. “Arthurian literature.”
“Hmm,” said Uther. “I see.”
Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, took another breath. “We’re living together. I’d really like to introduce you.”
“Of course,” said his father. “I shall join you this evening, then.”
Arthur gaped at him. “This evening?” he choked out. “I mean - today?” His father nodded. “Are you serious?”
“Well, I shall need to judge him for myself as soon as possible,” said his father. “To see if he’s suitable.”
“Okay,” said Arthur, trying to slow his pulse by sheer force of will. “Okay. And you don’t mind? You know, that he’s a… well, a he?”
“Arthur,” said his father, “after the last few nightmares you’ve introduced me too, I honestly don’t think I care any more. I shall see you at seven.”
Once he was outside, door firmly shut behind him, Arthur pressed his forehead against the smooth cool wood and groaned.
KA
Nothing Arthur did went horribly wrong. Ever. He was the king of rightness, the lord of things going to plan.
“Right!” he said, leaping up onto the fountain and clapping his hands. “Lance, are the doves ready?”
“Ready to go and getting restless,” said Lance.
“Gwen, balloons?”
“Almost done,” she called from behind a tree. “Just one more to go.” There was a hiss of a pump.
“Morgana, music?” said Arthur. Morgana held up the CD player, triumphant.
“Excellent!” said Arthur. “Time, Will?”
“Three forty-two,” said Will. “Two minutes till Merlin.”
“Okay,” said Arthur. “Is that everything?”
“The rings?” said Lance, leaning on one of the cages. The doves were starting to make the most bizarre noises.
“Oh,” said Arthur. “Ah.” He patted his jeans frantically, looking in all the pockets, even the tiny one at the top that he never used, then on the ground around his feet.
“Fuck, the rings…”
“Hey, catch!” called Will. Arthur turned just in time to see him toss something small and red. He caught it on reflex, but almost fumbled it. The rings.
“Oi, watch it!” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how much these cost?” Will held up his hands, innocence plastered across his face. Arthur took a few deep breaths, and said: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just - y’know.”
“Nervous?” Will suggested.
“I’m Arthur Pendragon,” said Arthur. “I don’t get nervous.”
“He’s coming!” Morgana hissed. “Arthur, he’s coming!”
The bottom dropped out of Arthur’s stomach. Sure, they’d rehearsed it, but nothing had quite prepared him for this, this was… “Alright,” he choked out. “Yes, I do get nervous.” He tucked the rings back away in his pocket and clapped his hands.
“Positions, everyone!”
Merlin appeared around the corner just as they all vanished, hat pulled down over his ears, rucksack on his back. He stopped and frowned when he saw Arthur, perched on the fountain.
“Arthur?” he said, biting his lip.
“Merlin,” said Arthur, “I -”
But before he could go on, someone shouted “Oh fuck,” behind him. He spun around to tell them to shut up, right now, or he’d break their spindly neck, but before he could do more than open his mouth, he was met with a face full of angry squawking dove. He stepped back, slipping on the damp stone, then just kept going back out into the air.
He felt something crack as he hit the ground, heard Merlin’s frantic footsteps on the gravel, heard him say, “Oh my God, Arthur, can you hear me, Arthur?” heard Gwen say, “Oh God, there’s blood,” heard Will shouting something indistinct, then he didn’t hear anything much at all for a while.
An hour or so later, he was trapped in a tiny room in the hospital, and some stupid woman trying to fix his head with a needle, hot and bothered and confused.
“No, no,” he said. “No, you have to let me explain, Merlin -”
“No, you have to stay still and let the nice nurse finish your stitches, okay?” said Merlin, taking one of his hands and squeezing gently.
“Merlin,” said Arthur. “I mean it, I have to say this now, I’ll chicken out otherwise.”
“Please sit still, Mr. Pendragon,” said the nurse.
“You can get your needle out of my head, woman!” he barked. She scowled and continued.
“Merlin,” he said, grabbing at him. “Merlin. Merlin.”
“Me?” said Merlin, with a confused shrug.
“Merlin,” said Arthur. “Marry me.”
Merlin blinked. Then he leaned around Arthur, addressed the nurse. “He’s concussed, right?” The nurse nodded. “Thought so.” He turned back to Arthur. “Arthur, sweetheart, you’re confused, yeah? You’re concussed. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’m not concussed!” snapped Arthur. “Well, maybe I’m a little bit concussed. But I know what I’m saying, Merlin. I’m asking you to marry me. Please say you’ll marry me.”
Merlin bit his lip. “Arthur, please,” he said. “We’ll talk about this when he get home, yeah?”
Arthur started to shake his head, then remembered the nurse. “No,” he said. “Look, I’ll go down on one knee if you like. Would that help?”
Merlin grabbed him by the shoulders, held him still. “No, I think that would be very bad,” he said. “Look, Arthur -”
“I mean, what do you think I was doing on the fountain? There was meant to be doves and balloons and music, and rings, I have rings…” He groped for the pockets of his jeans. Nothing. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” His mind raced. “My jacket -” He lunged for it, sitting on the chair on the other side of the room. The nurse and Merlin grabbed at him, yelled at him to stay still. “Look in my jacket pocket, Merlin, I think they must be in there.”
Merlin reached for the jacket, held it up, eyebrows raised. “Inside pocket, yeah?” said Arthur. “Little red box.” Merlin reached inside. Frowned. Drew out the box. “The gold one’s for you and the silver one’s for me,” said Arthur. “Please say yes, yeah?”
Merlin opened the box. His expression became something unreadable, something Arthur had never seen before.
“Oh,” he said eventually, just as the nurse pulled the last stitch tight.
“There,” she said. “All done now.” She turned to face Merlin, expectant.
“I mean you don’t have to say yes right away,” said Arthur. “If you need time to think. You can say yes tomorrow if you’d rather.” Then, because he’d run out of other things to say: “I love you so much, you know.”
“Yeah,” said Merlin, clearly astounded. “Yeah, I guess.” He closed his eyes, shook his head once, and Arthur’s heart practically stopped. “I mean. Yes. Yes, of course.” He closed the box, turned and stumbled back over to the table. “I love you too.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Arthur, grinning.
Behind them, the nurse clapped her hands to her mouth and made a delighted sound.
Part Three
The sofa was big and saggy, covered in a soft blanket. She sat him down, gave him a cup of tea and a plate of home made biscuits, then dragged Merlin away through the bead curtain into the kitchen to help out.
Their voices carried down the hall. Arthur edged his way down the sofa to listen.
“You didn’t tell me he was so handsome,” she was saying. He smiled.
“Mum, shush!” said Merlin. “I think he can hear you.”
“So?” she said. “He won’t mind. Turn the oven on, will you?” Then, a moment later, “Thanks, love.”
He could hear Merlin’s feet squeaking on the linoleum as he shifted about awkwardly.
“Mum, I need to talk to you about something,” he said. “I. Um.”
Arthur got up, tea cup in one hand and biscuit in the other, and wandered through to the kitchen. The woven mats in the hallway were rough beneath his feet.
“Hi,” he said. “I got bored. Sorry.”
“It’s no problem,” said Hunith, handing him a fresh saucer. “Do you like the biscuits? It’s a new recipe.”
“They’re delicious,” said Arthur. “I see where Merlin gets it from.”
Merlin turned his head away, bashful, smiling. It made Arthur want to go and put his arms around him. He wished he wasn’t holding a cup of tea.
“What were you saying, Merlin?” said Hunith, fetching a jar out of the cupboard.
“I, um,” said Merlin, his eyes flicking from Arthur to his mother and back again. Then he took a deep breath. “Mum. Arthur’s asked me to move in with him.”
“That’s wonderful, love,” she said as she unscrewed the jar. “How soon?”
There was a pause. “You’re not bothered, then?” said Merlin. Arthur ate another bite of his biscuit.
“Why would I be bothered?” she asked.
“Well, I thought you might think it was too soon, because we’ve only been going out for a month or so,” said Merlin, “and also, I thought you might miss me. Maybe. I mean I’ve been living here for a while now…”
Hunith put the jar down on the worktop. “Merlin,” she said. “You told me you were going to be moving back in for a month, tops. That was two years ago.” Merlin ducked his head. “I’m not saying it hasn’t been nice having you back, but you’re a grown man now. You need to get on with things. Besides, I have a good feeling about you two.”
Arthur finished off his biscuit. “Really?” said Merlin.
“I’ve seen the way you look at each other,” she said. She turned to Arthur. “If you’re going to be in here, you might as well help us make dinner.”
“Oh,” said Arthur. “No. Sorry, I’ve never really cooked before, I’ll just ruin everything.”
She took a hold of his wrists and guided him over to the sink.
“I mean it,” he said. “I can’t do anything more complicated than pasta with baked beans.”
“That sounds disgusting,” she said.
“It is,” said Merlin grimly. “Trust me.”
“It’s only pasta bake, Arthur,” said Hunith. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on you.”
Dinner was delicious, and knowing he’d helped make it was surprisingly satisfying.
KA
Their third date was in a cocktail bar that Arthur had been to a few times with people from work. He realised once they arrived that he might not have quite thought it through. Merlin was tense, nervous, as if he felt out of place.
Arthur slipped an arm around his shoulders as they stood waiting at the bar.
“I’m fine,” said Merlin, with a little sigh, but he didn’t shrug Arthur off. “I just don’t know what’s in half of these and it doesn’t say.”
Arthur was about to answer when someone said his name, just behind them, tinged with surprise and maybe even shock. He turned around, resisting the sudden urge to let go of Merlin at once.
“Leon,” he said, relieved. Leon was more laid-back than most of the men he worked with. “Hi. How’s it going?”
“Good,” said Leon. He folded his arms, awkward, and nodded at Merlin. “So who’s this, then?”
Arthur’s mouth dried up. This had to happen before he’d had a drink, didn’t it? He could feel Merlin’s expectant anxious gaze on him. “This is Merlin,” he said after a moment or two. “He’s my boyfriend. Merlin, this is Leon.”
Merlin smiled and disentangled his arm from Arthur to shake hands. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Leon. “I didn’t know Arthur was seeing someone.”
“It’s kind of a recent development,” said Arthur.
“Oh,” said Leon. “Well, I’ve got to run, just got a phone call. You’ll have to introduce us properly later, alright?”
Once he was gone, Arthur frowned. “Huh.”
“What’s up?” said Merlin. He had relaxed, Arthur realised. The tension had seeped out of him. Arthur squeezed his shoulder and smiled.
“That went a lot better than I expected,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Merlin. He twisted around, back towards the bar, and opened the menu again. “I was kind of expecting you to say we were just mates or something.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Arthur. “I care what you think of me more than I care what he thinks of me.”
Merlin turned to face him, eyebrows raised, a smile pulling at his lips, and Arthur couldn’t help but kiss him, in the middle of a cocktail bar, where anyone could see. It felt even better than he’d expected.
Of course, even though Leon wasn’t the type to gossip, he must have mentioned it to someone, because by the next morning Arthur had emails from half his office, Lance, Morgana, and, most terrifying of all, his father, all variations on a theme.
Oh, well. He could deal with it. But first he was going to call Merlin.
B
They spent the night in Merlin’s room. He only had a single bed, so Hunith had helpfully provided a mattress on the floor.
“D’you think this is her way of saying we shouldn’t have sex in her house?” said Arthur, perching on the squashy edge of it.
Merlin blushed. “Well, I wouldn’t anyway,” he said. “There’s really not enough space in a single, though.”
“I’m sure we could manage,” said Arthur. He tugged off his socks. “Your Mum’s great, by the way.”
“I know,” said Merlin with a fond smile.
Arthur lasted about half an hour, once they turned the lights out, before he crawled over and joined Merlin in his bed. It was a snug fit, the two of them all tangled up, intimate. Merlin muttered and complained, but from the way he sighed and snuggled closer, Arthur could tell he didn’t really mind.
KA
Merlin was waiting for him when he got home, seized him the moment he was in the door and pressed him against the wall, a predatory lustful glint in his eye. Arthur’s briefcase fell from his fingers, unnoticed.
Merlin knelt, fell to his knees on the floor, and began to work Arthur’s trousers open, fingers brushing his crotch, and by the time he reached inside Arthur was already half-hard.
“You like that?” he said, fingers wrapping around the head of Arthur’s prick, teasing his foreskin, and he was all the way hard, now. All he could manage was a moan. “Oh yeah, you like that.”
He leaned forward, took just the very tip into his mouth and sucked gently, teasing, toying with him. It was all Arthur could do not to come right there and then.
“More,” he choked out, desperate. “Please.” His head fell back against the wall with a thump. “Fuck.”
Merlin obliged for once, wrapped his hand around the base and sucked him in smoothly, as much as he could take, then moaned around him, as if he was getting off on this too.
“Oh God,” said Arthur. “Do that thing. With your tongue. Yeah, that.” He groaned, thrust forward into Merlin’s mouth. He was going to come soon, embarrassingly quick, and he didn’t care, he really didn’t care. He wanted to tell Merlin all sorts of things, wonderful things, praise him outrageously, but instead he bit his tongue, hard, and thrust again.
Merlin moaned, moved back and forth, somehow taking Arthur even deeper, then drew back altogether, leaving him hot and wet, blinked up at him. “You like?” he said.
“You fucking tease,” Arthur moaned. “Get on with it.”
Merlin smiled, leaned forward and bloody licked him, traced the veins, from root to tip, toyed with the slit, sucking up drops of pre-come. Arthur opened his mouth to order him, beg him, anything¸ but the words wouldn’t come, so he just thrust forward again, forced himself between Merlin’s lips. Merlin sucked him, hard and eager, not teasing now, until his toes curled and his knees went limp and his eyes fluttered closed and oh bloody fucking hell.
He slid down the wall, softening cock hanging out of his trousers. Merlin suddenly seemed to loom over him, wiping at his mouth, grinning.
“Happy anniversary,” he said. “Dinner’s in the kitchen. I made chocolate carrot cake.”
“I love you,” said Arthur. Then, “Are you going to do this every year? Please say you’re going to do this every year.”
Merlin’s grin broadened. “You’ll just have to wait and see, I guess,” he said.
B
They had Morgana round for dinner as soon as they were both moved in, Merlin’s stuff filling Arthur’s kitchen cupboards better than his own ever would have done. She arrived at the door, all high-heels and skirt-suit, straight from work, clutching a bottle of wine.
“So, who was it you wanted me to meet, then?” she said once she was in the door.
“Oh, right,” said Arthur. He guided her towards the kitchen. “Morgana, Merlin. Merlin, this is my sister Morgana.”
Merlin dried his hands off on a dish towel, smiled. “Hi,” he said. “It’s really great to meet you.”
Morgana gaped. “Oh,” she said. Arthur tried to hide his smile. He had never seen her speechless before. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, it’s just I kind of thought you were an imaginary friend. Or something.”
Merlin laughed. “No, I exist,” he said. “Or at least I think I do.”
“Well, now we’re just getting existential,” she said.
“So, as you can see,” Arthur said, patting her on the shoulder. “Some people really are called Merlin.”
The timer on the oven dinged. Merlin dived for it, muttering something about chocolate pudding. Morgana smiled.
An hour later, midway through the meal, when Merlin had vanished back into the kitchen to get the pudding, Morgana pounced.
“Arthur, where did you find him?” she hissed. “He’s perfect. He’s adorable. I want one in my flat too.”
Arthur sat back in his chair, smug. “Well, he’s mine, and you can’t have him.”
“I’m serious,” said Morgana. “Why didn’t you introduce us before? I never in a million years thought you’d actually date anyone worthwhile. Or likeable.”
“Hey!” said Arthur. Then he stopped protesting, because it was true, he really did attract nothing but nutters and bimbos.
“And he cooks as well,” said Morgana. “You’re going to have to marry him, you realise.”
Arthur leaned forward again, lowered his voice. “I’ll get back to you on that, okay?”
Merlin re-appeared, hands nestled in his oven gloves. “I’ll be a few more minutes, okay?” he said. “It might have got a very tiny bit burned. But only a tiny bit!” Then he was off again, dashing back down the hall.
Morgana stared at her wineglass, pensive. “What?” said Arthur, suddenly anxious. He didn’t like it when Morgana got that look on her face.
“I don’t suppose he has a brother, does he?” she said.
Before he could answer, Merlin dashed back in with the pudding and a jug of chocolate sauce balanced on a tray. “It’s fine now,” he said. “I fixed it.” He beamed down at them. They both smiled back. “What were you talking about?”
“Oh,” said Morgana breezily. “You.”
Merlin frowned. Arthur and Morgana laughed.
(The chocolate pudding was as fantastic as always.)
KA
Arthur was glowing with pride when he knocked on the door of Merlin’s flat. Not even the amount of time Merlin took to answer could take the shine off his good mood.
“Ah, there you are,” he said. “Put your shoes on. I have a surprise for you.”
“Um,” said Merlin. “I’m. In my pyjamas.”
“I can see that, Merlin,” said Arthur. “And I don’t care. Hurry up, will you?”
“It can’t wait ten minutes?” said Merlin, frowning sleepily.
“No,” said Arthur, thrusting the nearest pair of shoes at him. “Get moving.”
Five minutes later, Merlin was stumbling down the steps onto the pavement, blinking at Arthur’s car. “What’s the surprise?” he said.
“I can’t tell you that,” said Arthur. “Or it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Get in the car.”
“I don’t much like surprises,” said Merlin, rubbing his eyes. He stood shivering on the curb. “What kind of surprise?”
“A big surprise,” said Arthur. He reached around and opened the passenger side door.
“Come on.”
“That’s the worst kind,” said Merlin, grumpy, but he got in the car, settled himself back against the leather seat, fastened his seatbelt. “How far away is it?”
“Just a few minutes,” said Arthur, then when Merlin still looked uncertain, “Trust me. You’ll love it, alright?”
“If you say so,” said Merlin.
He kept frowning for the whole drive, as they turned the last corner into a broad street and pulled up outside a block of flats. It was an old building, dark stone, the front door set back into a porch.
“This is it,” said Arthur, ushering Merlin out of the car.
“Arthur, what -” Merlin fell silent as Arthur produced the key for the front door.
“Fourth floor,” he said. “Right at the top. We’re taking the lift. Come on.” He guided Merlin inside, one hand pressed to his back.
Merlin stood awkwardly in the lift, tugging at his pyjama top. It was an old t-shirt, somehow stretched and slightly too small at the same time. “I feel silly,” he said.
“Why?” asked Arthur.
“I’m in a lift in a strange building,” said Merlin, “and I’m in my pyjamas. Arthur, what are we doing here?”
“You’ll see,” said Arthur, just as the doors began to open. “Come on. Number eight. It’s just down here.”
He handed Merlin the key, still on the little plastic tag from the estate agent. Merlin stared, dumbfounded, tracing the figure eight on the door with his eyes. “What is this?” he said.
“Open the door,” said Arthur. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”
Merlin bit his lip and fitted the key into the lock.
Inside, it was bright and airy, with interesting slants and angles to the ceilings. Merlin turned a slow circle in the middle of the empty living room, eyes lighting up.
“What do you think?” said Arthur, lounging against the doorframe.
“It’s great,” said Merlin. “I mean - it’s huge. Arthur, what -”
“You wait till you see the kitchen,” said Arthur. He darted forward and took Merlin by the shoulder. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He led him gently down the hall, off the carpet, onto the smooth shiny tiles.
“You like it?” he said, snaking an arm around Merlin’s waist.
“Yes,” said Merlin. “Yeah, you were right. I love it. I just, I don’t -”
“You want to live here?” said Arthur. He held his breath.
Merlin was still and silent in his arms. “Um,” he said eventually. “I’ve only been awake for about fifteen minutes and I’m still in my pyjamas and I was working in the library till one last night, and I’m still kind of asleep, so you’re going to have to be really to the point, yeah?”
Arthur sighed and twisted Merlin around. “I want us to live here,” he said. “Together.
How does that sound?”
“Arthur, we can’t afford this,” said Merlin.
“No, you can’t afford this,” said Arthur. “I can.” He smiled. Merlin frowned.
“I’m not, sure,” he said. “I mean, I love it, and it’s closer to the university and all, and, and, it’s lovely, but I don’t want you to… well, I can’t just…”
“Yes, you can,” said Arthur, taking him by the shoulders. “And you’re going to have to get sure, I’m afraid. See, I already bought it for you.”
Merlin’s eyes widened. “What.”
“I bought it,” said Arthur. “Yesterday. I took the day off work and came here instead.”
“And you didn’t think you might want to ask me first,” said Merlin.
Arthur shrugged. “I know what you like,” he said. “And I know what I want. Come on. Say yes. You know you want to.” Merlin turned away, gazed out the window. “Merlin, you should see the size of the bedroom. We could get a king-sized bed in there. Imagine what we could do with a king-sized bed!” Merlin still didn’t answer. “Don’t say yes because you feel you have to, though. I mean, if you don’t think we’re ready, I won’t mind -”
“No,” said Merlin, shaking his head. “No, you’re right. This is - this is what I want too. But you have to let me pay you back, alright?”
“You don’t have to do that,” said Arthur.
“No,” said Merlin. “No, I want to.” His arms slipped around Arthur’s neck. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” said Arthur, hugging him back. “Now, let’s go get breakfast, yeah?”
“I’m paying,” said Merlin, voice sleepy, muffled by Arthur’s shoulder.
B
The last time Arthur had seen his father face-to-face, they’d been in another universe, and it hadn’t been his father, not really, and this was probably going to be the most nerve-wracking thing he’d ever done.
He’d told himself over and over that it would be fine, it had been fine in the other universe, but that didn’t help as much as he hoped it would. By the time he was standing outside the office door, he was practically shaking.
He took a few deep breaths. Knocked on the door. The silence seemed to go on far too long (long enough that he began to wonder if his father just wasn’t there, which was a relief and a disappointment all at once).
“Come in,” said his father at last. He took another deep breath and opened the door.
Inside, it smelled sharp and clean and papery. The carpet was so soft he could feel it through his shoes. His father was behind his desk. He did not look up.
“Arthur,” he said crisply. “Sit down.”
“Um, no,” said Arthur. “I, uh, I think I’d rather do this standing up, actually.”
That did it. His father turned to face him, one eyebrow raised, quizzical. “Is something wrong?” he said.
“No,” said Arthur. “Not wrong, exactly. I just wanted to talk to you about something and I thought it would be better to do it face to face.”
“I see,” said his father, eyes flicking back down to his papers, clearly thinking that this was a waste of time. But he motioned for Arthur to go on.
“I just,” said Arthur, “I’ve been seeing someone.”
“That’s excellent,” said his father. “Really. I was starting to worry. Is she anyone I
know?”
“No,” said Arthur. “No, you don’t know him.” Uther’s eyebrows shot up. “His name’s Merlin.”
“I see,” said his father, tone unreadable. “And what does he do?”
“I’m sorry?” said Arthur.
“His job,” said Uther.
“Oh,” said Arthur. “Well, he doesn’t really have a job.”
“So he’s unemployed, then?” said his father. After your money.
“No,” said Arthur. “No, it’s not like that. He’s a student.”
Uther’s eyebrows climbed even higher. “I see.”
“No, it’s - he’s working on his PhD, alright? He’s my age.”
“What’s he studying?” said his father.
“Ah, medieval poetry,” said Arthur. “Arthurian literature.”
“Hmm,” said Uther. “I see.”
Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, took another breath. “We’re living together. I’d really like to introduce you.”
“Of course,” said his father. “I shall join you this evening, then.”
Arthur gaped at him. “This evening?” he choked out. “I mean - today?” His father nodded. “Are you serious?”
“Well, I shall need to judge him for myself as soon as possible,” said his father. “To see if he’s suitable.”
“Okay,” said Arthur, trying to slow his pulse by sheer force of will. “Okay. And you don’t mind? You know, that he’s a… well, a he?”
“Arthur,” said his father, “after the last few nightmares you’ve introduced me too, I honestly don’t think I care any more. I shall see you at seven.”
Once he was outside, door firmly shut behind him, Arthur pressed his forehead against the smooth cool wood and groaned.
KA
Nothing Arthur did went horribly wrong. Ever. He was the king of rightness, the lord of things going to plan.
“Right!” he said, leaping up onto the fountain and clapping his hands. “Lance, are the doves ready?”
“Ready to go and getting restless,” said Lance.
“Gwen, balloons?”
“Almost done,” she called from behind a tree. “Just one more to go.” There was a hiss of a pump.
“Morgana, music?” said Arthur. Morgana held up the CD player, triumphant.
“Excellent!” said Arthur. “Time, Will?”
“Three forty-two,” said Will. “Two minutes till Merlin.”
“Okay,” said Arthur. “Is that everything?”
“The rings?” said Lance, leaning on one of the cages. The doves were starting to make the most bizarre noises.
“Oh,” said Arthur. “Ah.” He patted his jeans frantically, looking in all the pockets, even the tiny one at the top that he never used, then on the ground around his feet.
“Fuck, the rings…”
“Hey, catch!” called Will. Arthur turned just in time to see him toss something small and red. He caught it on reflex, but almost fumbled it. The rings.
“Oi, watch it!” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how much these cost?” Will held up his hands, innocence plastered across his face. Arthur took a few deep breaths, and said: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just - y’know.”
“Nervous?” Will suggested.
“I’m Arthur Pendragon,” said Arthur. “I don’t get nervous.”
“He’s coming!” Morgana hissed. “Arthur, he’s coming!”
The bottom dropped out of Arthur’s stomach. Sure, they’d rehearsed it, but nothing had quite prepared him for this, this was… “Alright,” he choked out. “Yes, I do get nervous.” He tucked the rings back away in his pocket and clapped his hands.
“Positions, everyone!”
Merlin appeared around the corner just as they all vanished, hat pulled down over his ears, rucksack on his back. He stopped and frowned when he saw Arthur, perched on the fountain.
“Arthur?” he said, biting his lip.
“Merlin,” said Arthur, “I -”
But before he could go on, someone shouted “Oh fuck,” behind him. He spun around to tell them to shut up, right now, or he’d break their spindly neck, but before he could do more than open his mouth, he was met with a face full of angry squawking dove. He stepped back, slipping on the damp stone, then just kept going back out into the air.
He felt something crack as he hit the ground, heard Merlin’s frantic footsteps on the gravel, heard him say, “Oh my God, Arthur, can you hear me, Arthur?” heard Gwen say, “Oh God, there’s blood,” heard Will shouting something indistinct, then he didn’t hear anything much at all for a while.
An hour or so later, he was trapped in a tiny room in the hospital, and some stupid woman trying to fix his head with a needle, hot and bothered and confused.
“No, no,” he said. “No, you have to let me explain, Merlin -”
“No, you have to stay still and let the nice nurse finish your stitches, okay?” said Merlin, taking one of his hands and squeezing gently.
“Merlin,” said Arthur. “I mean it, I have to say this now, I’ll chicken out otherwise.”
“Please sit still, Mr. Pendragon,” said the nurse.
“You can get your needle out of my head, woman!” he barked. She scowled and continued.
“Merlin,” he said, grabbing at him. “Merlin. Merlin.”
“Me?” said Merlin, with a confused shrug.
“Merlin,” said Arthur. “Marry me.”
Merlin blinked. Then he leaned around Arthur, addressed the nurse. “He’s concussed, right?” The nurse nodded. “Thought so.” He turned back to Arthur. “Arthur, sweetheart, you’re confused, yeah? You’re concussed. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’m not concussed!” snapped Arthur. “Well, maybe I’m a little bit concussed. But I know what I’m saying, Merlin. I’m asking you to marry me. Please say you’ll marry me.”
Merlin bit his lip. “Arthur, please,” he said. “We’ll talk about this when he get home, yeah?”
Arthur started to shake his head, then remembered the nurse. “No,” he said. “Look, I’ll go down on one knee if you like. Would that help?”
Merlin grabbed him by the shoulders, held him still. “No, I think that would be very bad,” he said. “Look, Arthur -”
“I mean, what do you think I was doing on the fountain? There was meant to be doves and balloons and music, and rings, I have rings…” He groped for the pockets of his jeans. Nothing. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” His mind raced. “My jacket -” He lunged for it, sitting on the chair on the other side of the room. The nurse and Merlin grabbed at him, yelled at him to stay still. “Look in my jacket pocket, Merlin, I think they must be in there.”
Merlin reached for the jacket, held it up, eyebrows raised. “Inside pocket, yeah?” said Arthur. “Little red box.” Merlin reached inside. Frowned. Drew out the box. “The gold one’s for you and the silver one’s for me,” said Arthur. “Please say yes, yeah?”
Merlin opened the box. His expression became something unreadable, something Arthur had never seen before.
“Oh,” he said eventually, just as the nurse pulled the last stitch tight.
“There,” she said. “All done now.” She turned to face Merlin, expectant.
“I mean you don’t have to say yes right away,” said Arthur. “If you need time to think. You can say yes tomorrow if you’d rather.” Then, because he’d run out of other things to say: “I love you so much, you know.”
“Yeah,” said Merlin, clearly astounded. “Yeah, I guess.” He closed his eyes, shook his head once, and Arthur’s heart practically stopped. “I mean. Yes. Yes, of course.” He closed the box, turned and stumbled back over to the table. “I love you too.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Arthur, grinning.
Behind them, the nurse clapped her hands to her mouth and made a delighted sound.
Part Three