fic: merlin on ice 4/?
Title: Merlin On Ice 4/?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Spoilers/Warnings: Fluff! Utter, sappy fluff!
Summary: Figure Skating Merlin has a crush on Hockey Player Arthur (which might be returned.)
AN: I have a feeling that I should probably write out a plan for this story - as in, you know, a plot or something. Think of this as a birthday present from me to you all (even though, you know, that's backwards. And a day late. :D) Also, the sugar bowl appears.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
After the game, which Merlin rather enjoyed despite his best intentions, Arthur took him back to his apartment, where they proceeded to sit in the bed of Merlin’s truck and stare at the stars. Despite the fact that it was cold. And cloudy.
“So, why did you suddenly decide on me, then?” Merlin asked, interrupting their utterly fascinating conversation about the rising costs of tuition.
"What?” Arthur sounded a bit guilty, and extremely hesitant.
“Well, you’ve never paid too much attention to be before, have you? I was always just Morgana’s skating partner - and a bit pathetic at that. But you’ve asked me out and charmed my mum, and thrown your name all over me. So, what I’m asking is why now? What suddenly made you want me?”
Merlin pointedly didn’t look at Arthur as he posed his question. It was a bit awkward, but the thought had been nagging him nearly since the moment Arthur had handed him the hockey tickets.
“Well,” Arthur said quietly, looking up at the clouds. “I rather think that, it’s always been you, Merlin.”
“It has?” Merlin’s blue eyes quickly sought out Arthur’s, and promptly began staring at him in bewilderment.
“Yes. I never doubted that it would be you for me - but you never seemed to want me back.”
“I didn’t?” Clearly all those nights when Morgana had purposely asked Merlin embarrassing questions about his type (Arthur), who he liked (Arthur again), who he had dreamed about and worse, Arthur hadn’t been listening at the door. Or listening at all.
“I never noticed anyway. And, I was content to wait until you figured out that it was me. Until-”
Here he hesitated again, one hand moving from his pocket to grip Merlin’s hand.
“Until I heard Prince going on about you mooning after Lancelot. He seemed to think you had made a move on him - or that you should - and I just couldn’t let you be snatched away from me like that. I knew I couldn’t wait anymore.”
Merlin stared. “You were jealous? Of Lancelot?”
Arthur sighed. “I just wasn’t going to lose you to him. He doesn’t even like you like that. Anybody could tell you that. Nobody cares about you the way that I do.”
Merlin pondered that quietly for a moment, looking down at the hand Arthur had twined his fingers around. It looked nice, the way his pale skin contrasted with Arthur’s tan.
“I gave up on Lancelot the moment I saw you.” He confessed. “I was silly, and eleven and you completely boggled me.” He felt extremely silly now, confessing that to Arthur.
“No you didn’t,” Arthur said angrily, “you mooned after him for years. Flirting and teasing and-” he cut his words off angrily, and restarted. “You’re mine, Merlin. You always will be.”
“That’s a bit assuming,” Merlin told him, annoyance flaring in response to Arthur’s temper.
“I don’t care!” Arthur hissed. “You’re mine, end of story.”
“Like hell!” The dark haired teen snapped, yanking his hand away and standing up. “You don’t own me, you utter prat.”
“That can change.” Arthur stood up as well, reaching for Merlin’s hand again, his blue eyes spitting fire.
Merlin turned away and didn’t look back as he ran up the steps to his apartment. “Like hell,” he repeated to himself, vowing to never let himself be so utterly charmed ever again. He took off the hockey jersey he was still wearing, tossed it to the ground and let himself into his apartment.
Arthur was halfway up the stairs when the door shut firmly behind Merlin, and the lock slid home just as the blond reached the door.
“That prat!” Merlin hissed to himself as he kicked off his shoes and stomped towards his bedroom. His fingers were sparking with gold in the darkness of the apartment, and his eyes were matching the color as his emotions sparked his magic into agitation. “That complete and utter walking arse!”
“Merlin!”
The teen jumped, tripping over a potted plant that shouldn’t have been in his path. “Mum?”
Hunith was sitting in her favorite chair, a book in her lap, and a very disapproving expression gracing her features. “I did not raise you to talk like that!” She took a closer look and stood up quickly, moving to her son and embracing him tightly.
Merlin sagged into the comforting grip.
“What happened, darling? Why are you so worked up? Was it Arthur? Did he say something about your magic? If he did, he’s not worth it, I don’t care how long you’ve pined after him. If he’s not man enough to love you for everything you are, and everything you have, then he’s not good enough for you.”
The teen took a few deep, calming breaths and managed to settle his magic. “Mum,” he said softly. “Thank you, but I just want to go to bed.” He took a step back, meeting his mother’s worried eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
He walked slowly to his room, not noticing the tea set floating along behind him until it had poured him a cup of tea and settled quietly on his side table. His pillows fluffed themselves as he changed into his pajamas and his blankets tucked themselves warmly around him after he crawled into his bed. With a sigh he beckoned the tea cup over and slowly sipped the liquid.
“It’s just,” he said softly to the sugar bowl, “how can someone who I know is wonderful, be so horrible at the same time?”
The sugar bowl offered no answer to his question.
“You’re lucky,” Merlin muttered, sipping again, “the only problem you have is running out of sugar.”
==
The next day was Sunday, so after finishing the rest of his homework, Merlin went back to the rink and worked on perfecting the move he had ruined his back over. If he cheated after the first time he messed up, well, nobody needed to know but himself. He spent the rest of the evening curled up with Gwen, watching horrible videos about untrue romances, and generally feeling miserable.
"You really need to stop talking to your sugar bowl,” Gwen told him, noticing the delicate little bowl sitting on his side table.
“Shut up,” Merlin told her, watching as the bowl waved its spoon at them.
On Monday, Merlin left for school, completely ignoring the dozen roses sitting on the passenger seat of his truck. As well as the blond holding them. He also ignored each and every attempt Arthur made at starting a conversation. He ignored the different gifts on each of the desks he sat in - and definitely not internally squealing when he found a new set of skates, a CD of his favorite classical music and other assortments of gifts. He kept his face stoic and even managed to scowl at Arthur when he sat down with them at lunch.
“Merlin,” Gwen kept saying in a disapproving sort of way.
Will just stared in shock at the sizable pile of gifts. “He must really like you, mate.”
“We have practice tonight.” Morgana said tightly, inspecting Merlin’s new skates.
“If he buys you a pony,” Lancelot told him with a grin, “you can keep it at my stable. I’ll look after it for you.”
“Stop it!” Merlin said sharply to Arthur, who was suddenly staring at Lancelot with a look of pure murder in his eyes.
Arthur’s eyes snapped back to him with a sad look resurfacing. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“No.” Merlin snapped, before standing up and marching away from the cafeteria. He was going to wait at least a week before he let Arthur properly apologize to him. With a proper date this time, not a testosterone ridden game full of miscreants and an argument under the clouds.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Spoilers/Warnings: Fluff! Utter, sappy fluff!
Summary: Figure Skating Merlin has a crush on Hockey Player Arthur (which might be returned.)
AN: I have a feeling that I should probably write out a plan for this story - as in, you know, a plot or something. Think of this as a birthday present from me to you all (even though, you know, that's backwards. And a day late. :D) Also, the sugar bowl appears.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
After the game, which Merlin rather enjoyed despite his best intentions, Arthur took him back to his apartment, where they proceeded to sit in the bed of Merlin’s truck and stare at the stars. Despite the fact that it was cold. And cloudy.
“So, why did you suddenly decide on me, then?” Merlin asked, interrupting their utterly fascinating conversation about the rising costs of tuition.
"What?” Arthur sounded a bit guilty, and extremely hesitant.
“Well, you’ve never paid too much attention to be before, have you? I was always just Morgana’s skating partner - and a bit pathetic at that. But you’ve asked me out and charmed my mum, and thrown your name all over me. So, what I’m asking is why now? What suddenly made you want me?”
Merlin pointedly didn’t look at Arthur as he posed his question. It was a bit awkward, but the thought had been nagging him nearly since the moment Arthur had handed him the hockey tickets.
“Well,” Arthur said quietly, looking up at the clouds. “I rather think that, it’s always been you, Merlin.”
“It has?” Merlin’s blue eyes quickly sought out Arthur’s, and promptly began staring at him in bewilderment.
“Yes. I never doubted that it would be you for me - but you never seemed to want me back.”
“I didn’t?” Clearly all those nights when Morgana had purposely asked Merlin embarrassing questions about his type (Arthur), who he liked (Arthur again), who he had dreamed about and worse, Arthur hadn’t been listening at the door. Or listening at all.
“I never noticed anyway. And, I was content to wait until you figured out that it was me. Until-”
Here he hesitated again, one hand moving from his pocket to grip Merlin’s hand.
“Until I heard Prince going on about you mooning after Lancelot. He seemed to think you had made a move on him - or that you should - and I just couldn’t let you be snatched away from me like that. I knew I couldn’t wait anymore.”
Merlin stared. “You were jealous? Of Lancelot?”
Arthur sighed. “I just wasn’t going to lose you to him. He doesn’t even like you like that. Anybody could tell you that. Nobody cares about you the way that I do.”
Merlin pondered that quietly for a moment, looking down at the hand Arthur had twined his fingers around. It looked nice, the way his pale skin contrasted with Arthur’s tan.
“I gave up on Lancelot the moment I saw you.” He confessed. “I was silly, and eleven and you completely boggled me.” He felt extremely silly now, confessing that to Arthur.
“No you didn’t,” Arthur said angrily, “you mooned after him for years. Flirting and teasing and-” he cut his words off angrily, and restarted. “You’re mine, Merlin. You always will be.”
“That’s a bit assuming,” Merlin told him, annoyance flaring in response to Arthur’s temper.
“I don’t care!” Arthur hissed. “You’re mine, end of story.”
“Like hell!” The dark haired teen snapped, yanking his hand away and standing up. “You don’t own me, you utter prat.”
“That can change.” Arthur stood up as well, reaching for Merlin’s hand again, his blue eyes spitting fire.
Merlin turned away and didn’t look back as he ran up the steps to his apartment. “Like hell,” he repeated to himself, vowing to never let himself be so utterly charmed ever again. He took off the hockey jersey he was still wearing, tossed it to the ground and let himself into his apartment.
Arthur was halfway up the stairs when the door shut firmly behind Merlin, and the lock slid home just as the blond reached the door.
“That prat!” Merlin hissed to himself as he kicked off his shoes and stomped towards his bedroom. His fingers were sparking with gold in the darkness of the apartment, and his eyes were matching the color as his emotions sparked his magic into agitation. “That complete and utter walking arse!”
“Merlin!”
The teen jumped, tripping over a potted plant that shouldn’t have been in his path. “Mum?”
Hunith was sitting in her favorite chair, a book in her lap, and a very disapproving expression gracing her features. “I did not raise you to talk like that!” She took a closer look and stood up quickly, moving to her son and embracing him tightly.
Merlin sagged into the comforting grip.
“What happened, darling? Why are you so worked up? Was it Arthur? Did he say something about your magic? If he did, he’s not worth it, I don’t care how long you’ve pined after him. If he’s not man enough to love you for everything you are, and everything you have, then he’s not good enough for you.”
The teen took a few deep, calming breaths and managed to settle his magic. “Mum,” he said softly. “Thank you, but I just want to go to bed.” He took a step back, meeting his mother’s worried eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
He walked slowly to his room, not noticing the tea set floating along behind him until it had poured him a cup of tea and settled quietly on his side table. His pillows fluffed themselves as he changed into his pajamas and his blankets tucked themselves warmly around him after he crawled into his bed. With a sigh he beckoned the tea cup over and slowly sipped the liquid.
“It’s just,” he said softly to the sugar bowl, “how can someone who I know is wonderful, be so horrible at the same time?”
The sugar bowl offered no answer to his question.
“You’re lucky,” Merlin muttered, sipping again, “the only problem you have is running out of sugar.”
==
The next day was Sunday, so after finishing the rest of his homework, Merlin went back to the rink and worked on perfecting the move he had ruined his back over. If he cheated after the first time he messed up, well, nobody needed to know but himself. He spent the rest of the evening curled up with Gwen, watching horrible videos about untrue romances, and generally feeling miserable.
"You really need to stop talking to your sugar bowl,” Gwen told him, noticing the delicate little bowl sitting on his side table.
“Shut up,” Merlin told her, watching as the bowl waved its spoon at them.
On Monday, Merlin left for school, completely ignoring the dozen roses sitting on the passenger seat of his truck. As well as the blond holding them. He also ignored each and every attempt Arthur made at starting a conversation. He ignored the different gifts on each of the desks he sat in - and definitely not internally squealing when he found a new set of skates, a CD of his favorite classical music and other assortments of gifts. He kept his face stoic and even managed to scowl at Arthur when he sat down with them at lunch.
“Merlin,” Gwen kept saying in a disapproving sort of way.
Will just stared in shock at the sizable pile of gifts. “He must really like you, mate.”
“We have practice tonight.” Morgana said tightly, inspecting Merlin’s new skates.
“If he buys you a pony,” Lancelot told him with a grin, “you can keep it at my stable. I’ll look after it for you.”
“Stop it!” Merlin said sharply to Arthur, who was suddenly staring at Lancelot with a look of pure murder in his eyes.
Arthur’s eyes snapped back to him with a sad look resurfacing. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“No.” Merlin snapped, before standing up and marching away from the cafeteria. He was going to wait at least a week before he let Arthur properly apologize to him. With a proper date this time, not a testosterone ridden game full of miscreants and an argument under the clouds.