Dóchas Part 3
“Hello Arthur, I’m glad you could make it.” Merlin smiles beatifically, and Arthur has to swallow and forcibly stop himself from staring.
Merlin leads him into the sitting room, where there’s tea and biscuits waiting on a coffee table. Arthur takes a seat on the couch, and tries not to read anything into it when Merlin sits beside him.
“Tea?”
“Please,” Arthur replies, and looks around the room as Merlin pours a cup.
The room is large and resplendent in cream and red, with ornate furniture and pictures of God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the Saints on the walls.
“Milk, sugar?” Merlin asks.
“Tiny bit of milk, no sugar.”
Merlin does so, hands Arthur his cup, and then proceeds to dump a large quantity of milk in his own cup.
“Do you like tea with your milk?” Arthur asks teasingly, unable to help himself.
Merlin flushes slightly, but smirks and replies off the bat, “Do you always dress so formally?”
Arthur tugs self-consciously at his shirt collar and glances at Merlin lounging in a pair of baggyish jeans and a t-shirt, and then at his own shirt and slacks. And to think he had nearly worn a tie. Mercy.
“Well…not all of us, uh…” He struggles, trying to think of a suitable comeback, when Merlin laughs.
“I’m only teasing ye. If that’s the way you dress then fair enough, it looks good on you. But please don’t dress up on my account.”
“Oh, cheers,” Arthur mumbles, full-on blushing at this stage. “I’ll keep that in mind. So,” he adds brightly, “what words of religious wisdom have you to impart on me?”
“No no, I don’t want it to be some sort of lecture or lesson.” Merlin shakes his head. “What do you want to talk about?”
‘Anything but religion,’ Arthur’s mind supplies helpfully, but instead, Arthur finds himself saying, “Just how do you think science and religion can actually mix?”
“Ah, now that’s an interesting topic.” Merlin smiles.
He takes a sip of his tea, and continues speaking.
“Science is absolutely wonderful; it helps us understand so much about our world. But there are things we cannot explain, things science cannot understand.”
“Yes, but thousands of years ago, human couldn’t explain why the seasons change, or their crops grew, so they were attributed to Gods and religion,” Arthur points out, slightly argumentative, slightly curious about what Merlin will say. “Surely eventually science will do the same for today’s unexplained occurrences.”
“Probably,” Merlin agrees, “but only for some things. There are things science can’t explain.”
“Such as?” Arthur asks, raising a challenging brow.”
“Courage, honesty, determination, humour, imagination, the human spirit,” Merlin lists off, raising a brow in reply. “Where are the equations for them?”
Arthur stares; feeling a little overwhelmed, but pushes on stubbornly.
“Maybe, but science is still out to prove religion wrong.”
“Ah, right now it is.” Merlin grins. “But in the end, I believe that science will ultimately back quite a lot of religion up. It already does in some ways. Take for example, life after death.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Arthur says, raising a hand up and nearly chocking on his tea. “How is science supposed to back that up, because paranormal activity and ghosts don’t count.”
“Patience young grasshopper.” Merlin chuckles. “I’m getting to it. Are you familiar with the principle of the Conservation of Energy?”
“Energy can’t be created or destroyed, but only changed from one form to another,” Arthur rattles off, wondering where Merlin is going with this.
“Exactly. So when we’re born, energy has been transferred from out parents to us. We are pure energy stored in atoms, molecules and cells - we are always moving, breathing, living. But when we die, what happens to that energy?”
“Well it die-” Arthur starts, then freezes, mouth gaping as he contemplates what Merlin’s trying to tell him. “The energy…is turned into another form.”
“Exactly!” Merlin beams. “Our bodies die, but we live on in our new life after death as… well, whatever that energy becomes - that same energy that God has.”
“Okay okay,” Arthur says, still feeling a little shell-shocked, “what about the bible? I haven’t read it myself, but I’ve heard there are some questionable stories in it.”
Later that evening, Arthur heads home, his head whirling with all sorts of ideas about science and religion, and a bible in his bag.
“Don’t be a prat about something you know nothing about,” Merlin had stated, lips set in a thin line.
He had stood, strode over to the bookshelf and pulled down a small, well-read bible, and had pressed it into a blushing Arthur’s hand.
“If you want to argue about the bible, then you read the bible,” he had said archly.
Arthur had quickly nodded, and then just as quickly, had changed topic to the argument about science subjects in religious schools. There had been talk of seculism, clashing religions, and the balance of belief and fanaticism, before Merlin had had to excuse himself for evening prayer and reading.
“I’ll see you on Friday, yeah?” Arthur had asked, as he stepped out the front door.
“Definitely,” Merlin had grinned. “Where will I meet you?”
“I’ll be driving, so I’ll pick you up here, okay?”
“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”
Arthur steps in through his front door, manages to keep a straight face all the way to his bedroom, and once inside, collapses on his bed and allows the goofy smile, which had been fighting it’s way to the surface all night, to burst onto his face.
*****
Merlin’s planning his next chat with Arthur out, smiling to himself as he remembers Arthur’s passionate arguing, but his humility and open-mindedness as well. Merlin loves debating with people, and is glad that he’s found a kindred spirit in Arthur.
“Nicely done my boy,” Father Gaius says approvingly, “good interpretation of the gospel passage.”
Merlin snaps to attention, and mumbles a hurried thanks and apology at Father Gaius’ disapproving eyebrows.
“I apologise if this is boring you Merlin,” Father Gaius says dryly, “but it is most important.”
“I know Father, sorry.”
Father Gaius smiles and says, “Quite all right. Now, I was thinking that next week we’ll begin on Matthew’s Gospel, but for today, let’s look at the Catechism, perhaps The Celebration of the Christian Mystery?”
Merlin nods and tries his best to look awake and enthusiastic, and Father Gaius stands to fetch the giant book.
“Father?” Merlin asks hesitantly.
“Yes my boy?”
“I don’t mean to be rude or impatient, but… when will I be learning about exorcisms?”
Father Gaius glances sharply at him, but then his features relax into an understanding expression.
“In due time. Bishop Kilgarragh has explained your…miracle, but nevertheless, I want to make sure you’re mentally and informatively prepared to deal with it.”
“Okay,” Merlin replies, hiding his disappointment. “I understand.”
The old priest smiles and nods, then sits back down, placing the Catechism on the table between them.
As he thumbs through it, he murmurs, “Merlin, about your ability… how long are you able to summon angels for?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never tried to find out.” Merlin shrugs.
“I would like you to summon them now, and try to keep them here while you carry out your lesson.”
“Okay,” Merlin acquiesces, slightly bewildered.
He closes his eyes and uncurls an inner part of himself, which naturally reaches out and up in supplication, singing out with faithful joy. At once, he is surrounded by angels, and he basks in their warmth as he focuses on his studies. Merlin manages to keep them around for the next three hours. During that time, Father Gaius flinches every now and then, as if touched by something, but nothing is said. By the time they fade away, Merlin’s drooping with exhaustion, and Father Gaius looks both stunned and thrilled.
“Very good job.” He beams, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. “Take the rest of the day off.”
Merlin nods, smiles gratefully, and wanders down to his room, where he throws on a Rachmaninov record and collapses in bed for a sound nap.
*****
“So where are we going?” Merlin asks, as he gets into Arthur’s car.
“I was thinking, food, cinema and the arcade?”
“Sounds good,” Merlin smiles.
Arthur flashes him a bright grin, shifts the car into gear and drives off. After he fiddles with a few buttons, music fills the car, and Merlin bursts out laughing.
“What? Do you have a problem with my music?”
“No no,” Merlin giggles, “I just never had you pegged as a Queen fan.”
“Freddy is my idol,” Arthur declares loftily, then bursts into song, “Heeerrre we are! Born to be kings, we’re the princes of the univerrrsse!”
Merlin laughs and then joins in, and the two sing their hearts out to Queen, all the way into the city.
“So, what are you in the mood for, because I’m thinking steak,” Arthur says, smacking his lips, as they walk down the high street towards the restaurant section of town.
“Mmm yeah,” Merlin agrees eagerly, his stomach rumbling in anticipation. “With mushroom sauce.”
“Mushroom?” Arthur winces, his nose wrinkling. “You madman, everyone knows pepper sauce is the only way to go.”
“Well as a servant of the Lord, I can tell you that God himself declared mushroom sauce the most heavenly.” Merlin grins.
“Good thing I’m not on good terms with the oul chap - I’ll take my heathen sauce over him any day.” Arthur grins teasingly.
“You never know, I may convert you yet.”
“That’s the only reason you’re befriending me isn’t it - you’re gathering more brainwashed drones for your future flock!” Arthur gasps mock indignantly.
Merlin sighs dramatically and replies, “Yes, I’m afraid so. Drat, you have caught me out.”
“S’alright.” Arthur shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m only befriending you so I can lure you away from the Church with promises of drink and festive fun.”
“Remind me never to introduce you to Will; he’s been trying the same thing for ten years.” Merlin chuckles.
“Oohh, I should collaborate with him; we can plot your tragic downfall,” Arthur says gleefully.
Merlin’s lips quirk and he shakes his head before pointing at a steakhouse across the road and saying, “How about there?”
Arthur nods, and the two enter the restaurant and are quickly seated. A waitress with a pretty smile and flowers in her hair is immediately over, subtly trying to push her chest out while batting her lashes at Arthur.
“Hello, I’m Sophia and I’ll be your waitress for this evening,” she says breathily. “Would you gents like a drink while you decide on your order?”
“We’re ready to place our orders now actually,” Arthur says charmingly.
Sophia efficiently whips out a notepad and pen and says, “Okay, what’ll it be?”
“I’ll have the twelve ounce sirloin with pepper sauce, well done please.”
“Chips, baked potato or salad?”
“Chips please.”
“And to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of milk please.”
“Very well then. And for you sir?” She asks Merlin, not fully turning her cleavage away from Arthur.
“I’ll have the fifteen ounce fillet steak with mushroom sauce, medium-rare with salad and a glass of coke please.”
“All right then,” Sophia nods, jotting his order down. “I’ll be back with your drinks in a jiffy.”
She gives Arthur one last lingering look and walks off, hips swaying probably more than they should.
Arthur barely notices; he’s too busy rolling his eyes in exasperation and saying, “Salad, really Merlin? No wonder you’re so skinny, you need major carbo-loading.”
“At least I’m not the one ruining a perfectly good piece of steak by having it well done.” Merlin snarks back.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting my food cooked.”
“Cremated would be the better word - you might as well be chewing on old leather.”
They exchange jibes about each other’s choice of food and drink until Sophia comes back with said drinks - she places Merlin’s neatly in front of him, and then bends right into Arthur’s personal space to place his milk beside his hand. Arthur catches Merlin’s eye as she straightens, and has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the mirth he sees in the other man’s eyes.
Once Sophia walks off, Merlin outright grins and says, “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”
Arthur snorts and replies, “She’s on a wild goose chase with that one.”
“You’re not interested?”
“Nah, she’s not my type.”
“Oh. What is?” Merlin asks curiously.
Arthur is honest and blunt to a fault with everyone he meets, so generally this would be where he says, “Male,” and is done with it. But Merlin’s religious, and Arthur doesn’t know how he feels about gay peoples. What’s between them feels wonderful and fragile, and Arthur won’t, can’t risk ruining it.
Therefore, he wrinkles his nose and answers, “Not so… girly,” which is as honest as he can get, given the circumstances.
“Ah, so you like tomboy girls.”
“Yeah.” Arthur nods, and quickly changes the subject. “So, where are you from? Your accent sounds mostly Northern, but there’s a hint of something else I can’t quite place.”
“You’re right,” Merlin replies, his face slightly distant. “My parents were both from Northern Ireland, but when my father died, my mother moved over to England. I grew up there, and when I was fourteen, we moved back to Armagh. I was always getting teased because I had a mongrel accent from my mother and my friends,” he finishes with a soft laugh.
Arthur frowns, his heart clenching at the thought of Merlin being unhappy.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he says, his voice low and rough.
“It’s okay, he died before I was born - can’t miss what you never had, you know?” Merlin shrugs, a sad smile on his lips.
“Still, it must have been tough growing up without a father.”
“At times, but my mother’s a fantastic woman.”
“I bet she is,” Arthur smiles, his voice fond.
Their food arrives then; Sophia tries more “subtle” flirting, but Arthur fixes his attention on Merlin, and she gives up with a small pout. The men favour silence and eating in the presence of good food, and when they’re done, they both lean back in their chairs with satisfied sighs.
“Desert?”
“Nu-uh,” Merlin groans, “I’m fit to burst.”
“Oh yes, what with all that salad you ate,” Arthur teases.
Merlin sticks his tongue out, and Arthur’s glad that Sophia pops up at that moment, to distract him from the giant flip his stomach does.
“Would you like the desert menu?” She asks, positively trying to light up the room with her giant smile.
“No thank you, can we just have the bill please?” Merlin asks politely.
Sophia wilts slightly, but nods and says pleasantly, “Of course.”
She returns with the bill; Merlin and Arthur pay, and leave her a generous tip before they leave and head towards the cinema.
“So, what do you want to see?” Arthur asks, as they walk in the cinema entrance.
“Oh, I’m not too sure, I haven’t been to the cinema in a long while,” Merlin replies sheepishly.
“That’s all right. I heard Batman Begins is supposed to be quite good - lots of explosions and ass-kicking.”
“Sounds like fun,” Merlin grins.
They get their tickets, head into the screen, whisper through the trailers, and then are enrapt by the movie. When it ends, they come out babbling excitedly and re-enacting some of the more memorable bits.
“Oh, and remember when he-” Merlin kicks the air and shoots and imaginary gun.
“Yeah! And then the other guy was all, Argh! Eugh! Bam! Bam!” Arthur yells.
They continue in this fashion all the way to the arcade, where Arthur beats Merlin at all the fighting games, and Merlin trounces him at the racing games. Several times, Arthur catches Merlin eyeing up the Dance Dance Revolution game, and eventually he smirks and says, “You do realise that that’s a girl’s game, right Meerrrlin?”
“Making excuses cause you know I’ll beat you?” Merlin smirks back.
Arthur squares up and says, “Is that a challenge?”
Merlin leans in and says wickedly, “Bring it on Pendragon.”
Arthur involuntarily shivers and stiffly turns and marches towards the game, Merlin strolling behind. They take their places; Merlin puts €2 in and selects the difficult level, Arthur copying him. The game begins, and while it starts off easy enough, Arthur quickly realises he’s way in over his head. The arrows keep coming faster and faster, and he struggle vainly to keep up. Beside him, Merlin’s all flushed cheeks and flailing limbs, but his feet are flying, scoring ‘perfect’ after ‘perfect’ after ‘perfect’. The song finally ends; Arthur has a C- and Merlin an A+. Merlin smirks at Arthur as he climbs off the platform, Arthur himself staggering off.
“So, what’s next?” Merlin asks, eyes sparkling wickedly.
“Aren’t you going to rub your win in my face?” Arthur asks snarkily.
“Oh no; one must always remain gracious and humble in victory,” Merlin says diplomatically, though his smirk belays his tone.
Arthur snorts and walks off to the shooter games, Merlin falling in step beside him.
“Just wondering though - what’s it like being beaten at a girl’s game?” Merlin asks innocently. “I’m only asking because it’s never happened to me before.”
Arthur laughs and picks up a gun for a zombie shooter game.
“Come here and let me kick your ass.”
“You can try.”
They play a few more games before deciding to call it a night. At this stage, Merlin’s visibly tired. He bids Arthur goodnight with droopy eyes and a sleepy smile, and Arthur grips the steering wheel tightly to keep himself from grabbing him and kissing the living daylights out of him. He watches Merlin walk up to the house and in the front door, and has to take a few moments to compose himself before he can drive home.
*****
(part 4)
Merlin leads him into the sitting room, where there’s tea and biscuits waiting on a coffee table. Arthur takes a seat on the couch, and tries not to read anything into it when Merlin sits beside him.
“Tea?”
“Please,” Arthur replies, and looks around the room as Merlin pours a cup.
The room is large and resplendent in cream and red, with ornate furniture and pictures of God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the Saints on the walls.
“Milk, sugar?” Merlin asks.
“Tiny bit of milk, no sugar.”
Merlin does so, hands Arthur his cup, and then proceeds to dump a large quantity of milk in his own cup.
“Do you like tea with your milk?” Arthur asks teasingly, unable to help himself.
Merlin flushes slightly, but smirks and replies off the bat, “Do you always dress so formally?”
Arthur tugs self-consciously at his shirt collar and glances at Merlin lounging in a pair of baggyish jeans and a t-shirt, and then at his own shirt and slacks. And to think he had nearly worn a tie. Mercy.
“Well…not all of us, uh…” He struggles, trying to think of a suitable comeback, when Merlin laughs.
“I’m only teasing ye. If that’s the way you dress then fair enough, it looks good on you. But please don’t dress up on my account.”
“Oh, cheers,” Arthur mumbles, full-on blushing at this stage. “I’ll keep that in mind. So,” he adds brightly, “what words of religious wisdom have you to impart on me?”
“No no, I don’t want it to be some sort of lecture or lesson.” Merlin shakes his head. “What do you want to talk about?”
‘Anything but religion,’ Arthur’s mind supplies helpfully, but instead, Arthur finds himself saying, “Just how do you think science and religion can actually mix?”
“Ah, now that’s an interesting topic.” Merlin smiles.
He takes a sip of his tea, and continues speaking.
“Science is absolutely wonderful; it helps us understand so much about our world. But there are things we cannot explain, things science cannot understand.”
“Yes, but thousands of years ago, human couldn’t explain why the seasons change, or their crops grew, so they were attributed to Gods and religion,” Arthur points out, slightly argumentative, slightly curious about what Merlin will say. “Surely eventually science will do the same for today’s unexplained occurrences.”
“Probably,” Merlin agrees, “but only for some things. There are things science can’t explain.”
“Such as?” Arthur asks, raising a challenging brow.”
“Courage, honesty, determination, humour, imagination, the human spirit,” Merlin lists off, raising a brow in reply. “Where are the equations for them?”
Arthur stares; feeling a little overwhelmed, but pushes on stubbornly.
“Maybe, but science is still out to prove religion wrong.”
“Ah, right now it is.” Merlin grins. “But in the end, I believe that science will ultimately back quite a lot of religion up. It already does in some ways. Take for example, life after death.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Arthur says, raising a hand up and nearly chocking on his tea. “How is science supposed to back that up, because paranormal activity and ghosts don’t count.”
“Patience young grasshopper.” Merlin chuckles. “I’m getting to it. Are you familiar with the principle of the Conservation of Energy?”
“Energy can’t be created or destroyed, but only changed from one form to another,” Arthur rattles off, wondering where Merlin is going with this.
“Exactly. So when we’re born, energy has been transferred from out parents to us. We are pure energy stored in atoms, molecules and cells - we are always moving, breathing, living. But when we die, what happens to that energy?”
“Well it die-” Arthur starts, then freezes, mouth gaping as he contemplates what Merlin’s trying to tell him. “The energy…is turned into another form.”
“Exactly!” Merlin beams. “Our bodies die, but we live on in our new life after death as… well, whatever that energy becomes - that same energy that God has.”
“Okay okay,” Arthur says, still feeling a little shell-shocked, “what about the bible? I haven’t read it myself, but I’ve heard there are some questionable stories in it.”
Later that evening, Arthur heads home, his head whirling with all sorts of ideas about science and religion, and a bible in his bag.
“Don’t be a prat about something you know nothing about,” Merlin had stated, lips set in a thin line.
He had stood, strode over to the bookshelf and pulled down a small, well-read bible, and had pressed it into a blushing Arthur’s hand.
“If you want to argue about the bible, then you read the bible,” he had said archly.
Arthur had quickly nodded, and then just as quickly, had changed topic to the argument about science subjects in religious schools. There had been talk of seculism, clashing religions, and the balance of belief and fanaticism, before Merlin had had to excuse himself for evening prayer and reading.
“I’ll see you on Friday, yeah?” Arthur had asked, as he stepped out the front door.
“Definitely,” Merlin had grinned. “Where will I meet you?”
“I’ll be driving, so I’ll pick you up here, okay?”
“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”
Arthur steps in through his front door, manages to keep a straight face all the way to his bedroom, and once inside, collapses on his bed and allows the goofy smile, which had been fighting it’s way to the surface all night, to burst onto his face.
*****
Merlin’s planning his next chat with Arthur out, smiling to himself as he remembers Arthur’s passionate arguing, but his humility and open-mindedness as well. Merlin loves debating with people, and is glad that he’s found a kindred spirit in Arthur.
“Nicely done my boy,” Father Gaius says approvingly, “good interpretation of the gospel passage.”
Merlin snaps to attention, and mumbles a hurried thanks and apology at Father Gaius’ disapproving eyebrows.
“I apologise if this is boring you Merlin,” Father Gaius says dryly, “but it is most important.”
“I know Father, sorry.”
Father Gaius smiles and says, “Quite all right. Now, I was thinking that next week we’ll begin on Matthew’s Gospel, but for today, let’s look at the Catechism, perhaps The Celebration of the Christian Mystery?”
Merlin nods and tries his best to look awake and enthusiastic, and Father Gaius stands to fetch the giant book.
“Father?” Merlin asks hesitantly.
“Yes my boy?”
“I don’t mean to be rude or impatient, but… when will I be learning about exorcisms?”
Father Gaius glances sharply at him, but then his features relax into an understanding expression.
“In due time. Bishop Kilgarragh has explained your…miracle, but nevertheless, I want to make sure you’re mentally and informatively prepared to deal with it.”
“Okay,” Merlin replies, hiding his disappointment. “I understand.”
The old priest smiles and nods, then sits back down, placing the Catechism on the table between them.
As he thumbs through it, he murmurs, “Merlin, about your ability… how long are you able to summon angels for?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never tried to find out.” Merlin shrugs.
“I would like you to summon them now, and try to keep them here while you carry out your lesson.”
“Okay,” Merlin acquiesces, slightly bewildered.
He closes his eyes and uncurls an inner part of himself, which naturally reaches out and up in supplication, singing out with faithful joy. At once, he is surrounded by angels, and he basks in their warmth as he focuses on his studies. Merlin manages to keep them around for the next three hours. During that time, Father Gaius flinches every now and then, as if touched by something, but nothing is said. By the time they fade away, Merlin’s drooping with exhaustion, and Father Gaius looks both stunned and thrilled.
“Very good job.” He beams, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. “Take the rest of the day off.”
Merlin nods, smiles gratefully, and wanders down to his room, where he throws on a Rachmaninov record and collapses in bed for a sound nap.
*****
“So where are we going?” Merlin asks, as he gets into Arthur’s car.
“I was thinking, food, cinema and the arcade?”
“Sounds good,” Merlin smiles.
Arthur flashes him a bright grin, shifts the car into gear and drives off. After he fiddles with a few buttons, music fills the car, and Merlin bursts out laughing.
“What? Do you have a problem with my music?”
“No no,” Merlin giggles, “I just never had you pegged as a Queen fan.”
“Freddy is my idol,” Arthur declares loftily, then bursts into song, “Heeerrre we are! Born to be kings, we’re the princes of the univerrrsse!”
Merlin laughs and then joins in, and the two sing their hearts out to Queen, all the way into the city.
“So, what are you in the mood for, because I’m thinking steak,” Arthur says, smacking his lips, as they walk down the high street towards the restaurant section of town.
“Mmm yeah,” Merlin agrees eagerly, his stomach rumbling in anticipation. “With mushroom sauce.”
“Mushroom?” Arthur winces, his nose wrinkling. “You madman, everyone knows pepper sauce is the only way to go.”
“Well as a servant of the Lord, I can tell you that God himself declared mushroom sauce the most heavenly.” Merlin grins.
“Good thing I’m not on good terms with the oul chap - I’ll take my heathen sauce over him any day.” Arthur grins teasingly.
“You never know, I may convert you yet.”
“That’s the only reason you’re befriending me isn’t it - you’re gathering more brainwashed drones for your future flock!” Arthur gasps mock indignantly.
Merlin sighs dramatically and replies, “Yes, I’m afraid so. Drat, you have caught me out.”
“S’alright.” Arthur shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m only befriending you so I can lure you away from the Church with promises of drink and festive fun.”
“Remind me never to introduce you to Will; he’s been trying the same thing for ten years.” Merlin chuckles.
“Oohh, I should collaborate with him; we can plot your tragic downfall,” Arthur says gleefully.
Merlin’s lips quirk and he shakes his head before pointing at a steakhouse across the road and saying, “How about there?”
Arthur nods, and the two enter the restaurant and are quickly seated. A waitress with a pretty smile and flowers in her hair is immediately over, subtly trying to push her chest out while batting her lashes at Arthur.
“Hello, I’m Sophia and I’ll be your waitress for this evening,” she says breathily. “Would you gents like a drink while you decide on your order?”
“We’re ready to place our orders now actually,” Arthur says charmingly.
Sophia efficiently whips out a notepad and pen and says, “Okay, what’ll it be?”
“I’ll have the twelve ounce sirloin with pepper sauce, well done please.”
“Chips, baked potato or salad?”
“Chips please.”
“And to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of milk please.”
“Very well then. And for you sir?” She asks Merlin, not fully turning her cleavage away from Arthur.
“I’ll have the fifteen ounce fillet steak with mushroom sauce, medium-rare with salad and a glass of coke please.”
“All right then,” Sophia nods, jotting his order down. “I’ll be back with your drinks in a jiffy.”
She gives Arthur one last lingering look and walks off, hips swaying probably more than they should.
Arthur barely notices; he’s too busy rolling his eyes in exasperation and saying, “Salad, really Merlin? No wonder you’re so skinny, you need major carbo-loading.”
“At least I’m not the one ruining a perfectly good piece of steak by having it well done.” Merlin snarks back.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting my food cooked.”
“Cremated would be the better word - you might as well be chewing on old leather.”
They exchange jibes about each other’s choice of food and drink until Sophia comes back with said drinks - she places Merlin’s neatly in front of him, and then bends right into Arthur’s personal space to place his milk beside his hand. Arthur catches Merlin’s eye as she straightens, and has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the mirth he sees in the other man’s eyes.
Once Sophia walks off, Merlin outright grins and says, “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”
Arthur snorts and replies, “She’s on a wild goose chase with that one.”
“You’re not interested?”
“Nah, she’s not my type.”
“Oh. What is?” Merlin asks curiously.
Arthur is honest and blunt to a fault with everyone he meets, so generally this would be where he says, “Male,” and is done with it. But Merlin’s religious, and Arthur doesn’t know how he feels about gay peoples. What’s between them feels wonderful and fragile, and Arthur won’t, can’t risk ruining it.
Therefore, he wrinkles his nose and answers, “Not so… girly,” which is as honest as he can get, given the circumstances.
“Ah, so you like tomboy girls.”
“Yeah.” Arthur nods, and quickly changes the subject. “So, where are you from? Your accent sounds mostly Northern, but there’s a hint of something else I can’t quite place.”
“You’re right,” Merlin replies, his face slightly distant. “My parents were both from Northern Ireland, but when my father died, my mother moved over to England. I grew up there, and when I was fourteen, we moved back to Armagh. I was always getting teased because I had a mongrel accent from my mother and my friends,” he finishes with a soft laugh.
Arthur frowns, his heart clenching at the thought of Merlin being unhappy.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he says, his voice low and rough.
“It’s okay, he died before I was born - can’t miss what you never had, you know?” Merlin shrugs, a sad smile on his lips.
“Still, it must have been tough growing up without a father.”
“At times, but my mother’s a fantastic woman.”
“I bet she is,” Arthur smiles, his voice fond.
Their food arrives then; Sophia tries more “subtle” flirting, but Arthur fixes his attention on Merlin, and she gives up with a small pout. The men favour silence and eating in the presence of good food, and when they’re done, they both lean back in their chairs with satisfied sighs.
“Desert?”
“Nu-uh,” Merlin groans, “I’m fit to burst.”
“Oh yes, what with all that salad you ate,” Arthur teases.
Merlin sticks his tongue out, and Arthur’s glad that Sophia pops up at that moment, to distract him from the giant flip his stomach does.
“Would you like the desert menu?” She asks, positively trying to light up the room with her giant smile.
“No thank you, can we just have the bill please?” Merlin asks politely.
Sophia wilts slightly, but nods and says pleasantly, “Of course.”
She returns with the bill; Merlin and Arthur pay, and leave her a generous tip before they leave and head towards the cinema.
“So, what do you want to see?” Arthur asks, as they walk in the cinema entrance.
“Oh, I’m not too sure, I haven’t been to the cinema in a long while,” Merlin replies sheepishly.
“That’s all right. I heard Batman Begins is supposed to be quite good - lots of explosions and ass-kicking.”
“Sounds like fun,” Merlin grins.
They get their tickets, head into the screen, whisper through the trailers, and then are enrapt by the movie. When it ends, they come out babbling excitedly and re-enacting some of the more memorable bits.
“Oh, and remember when he-” Merlin kicks the air and shoots and imaginary gun.
“Yeah! And then the other guy was all, Argh! Eugh! Bam! Bam!” Arthur yells.
They continue in this fashion all the way to the arcade, where Arthur beats Merlin at all the fighting games, and Merlin trounces him at the racing games. Several times, Arthur catches Merlin eyeing up the Dance Dance Revolution game, and eventually he smirks and says, “You do realise that that’s a girl’s game, right Meerrrlin?”
“Making excuses cause you know I’ll beat you?” Merlin smirks back.
Arthur squares up and says, “Is that a challenge?”
Merlin leans in and says wickedly, “Bring it on Pendragon.”
Arthur involuntarily shivers and stiffly turns and marches towards the game, Merlin strolling behind. They take their places; Merlin puts €2 in and selects the difficult level, Arthur copying him. The game begins, and while it starts off easy enough, Arthur quickly realises he’s way in over his head. The arrows keep coming faster and faster, and he struggle vainly to keep up. Beside him, Merlin’s all flushed cheeks and flailing limbs, but his feet are flying, scoring ‘perfect’ after ‘perfect’ after ‘perfect’. The song finally ends; Arthur has a C- and Merlin an A+. Merlin smirks at Arthur as he climbs off the platform, Arthur himself staggering off.
“So, what’s next?” Merlin asks, eyes sparkling wickedly.
“Aren’t you going to rub your win in my face?” Arthur asks snarkily.
“Oh no; one must always remain gracious and humble in victory,” Merlin says diplomatically, though his smirk belays his tone.
Arthur snorts and walks off to the shooter games, Merlin falling in step beside him.
“Just wondering though - what’s it like being beaten at a girl’s game?” Merlin asks innocently. “I’m only asking because it’s never happened to me before.”
Arthur laughs and picks up a gun for a zombie shooter game.
“Come here and let me kick your ass.”
“You can try.”
They play a few more games before deciding to call it a night. At this stage, Merlin’s visibly tired. He bids Arthur goodnight with droopy eyes and a sleepy smile, and Arthur grips the steering wheel tightly to keep himself from grabbing him and kissing the living daylights out of him. He watches Merlin walk up to the house and in the front door, and has to take a few moments to compose himself before he can drive home.
*****
(part 4)