Tally [4/?]
Title: Tally [4/?]
Author: somerdaye
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, some Gwaine/Merlin and Lancelot/Gwen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Gwaine Stanford is your only friend, you know it's time to switch things up a little. Old and new and more-thans.
Word Count: 1700+
Note: I could really use a beta for this story, if anyone is interested! :) Also, I'll add the links and everything later. Right now, I'm just TIRED.
If someone were to look through Merlin's tally book, they would find no numbers or words, aside from the names. So if you were to ask him how he knows without a shadow of a doubt that at least half of the tallies under Gwen represent Saturdays - well, he wouldn't be able to give you certifiable proof.
It was always just kind of a fact. Saturdays were Gwen days. She'd gone to a Catholic boarding school for as long as he'd known her. Until high school, that is, when she put her foot down. After that she could yell out her window at Merlin's house, and he would probably hear her. They spent a lot of days together after that, but Saturdays were Gwen days.
When they were younger, if he was lucky, he'd catch a glimpse of her on Sunday mornings, when her dad would drive her back to the city. She'd wave and make a heart shape with her hands, and he would blow her a kiss.
These instances, however, didn't get recorded.
The tallies represent the amount of time spent with a person - and every Saturday, with little fail, Gwen would be at his door with rocky road ice cream in one hand and M&Ms in the other. They would mark the tally together, laughing about how, even when they're forty with jobs and families and dogs and exercise machines they never use, Saturday will still be their day.
Merlin's phone rings at why-are-they-awake o'clock on what he assumes might be Saturday. After dinner the night before, Gwaine had wanted to go clubbing and simply refused to stop pestering Merlin until he agreed to come along.
He's had about an hour's sleep, so if he sounds a little irritable when he answers his phone with a "The fuck d'you want?", it's purely Gwaine's fault.
"Morning, sunshine!" Gwen's voice chirps, much too loudly, from the speaker.
"Shit, Gwen," he groans, blocking his eyes from the insistent light streaming through his broken blinds. "Whatever you want, couldn't it have waited?"
He rubs his knuckles into his eyes, pushing back a budding migraine.
"No," she says simply. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over later. I have rocky road and Avatar. Can you pick up some M&Ms? Not peanut ones, though - Lance is allergic."
It takes Merlin quite a bit to process what exactly Gwen's offer (demand, really) means. And then his headache and lack of sleep and Gwaine's general Gwaineness don't matter because he gets to have a proper Gwen night for the first time in almost nine years.
"Love to," he finally replies, a grin spreading uninvited across his face. He's just barely resisting the urge to dance around his bedroom singing nonsense because movie night with Gwe-en, movie night with Gwe-en.
(And he only really resists because the movement might make him vomit all over his new rug.)
Gwen's telling him her address and what time he should stop by and asking whether he wants a pepperoni pizza or a Hawaiian, but he's not listening at all because;
Move night with Gwe-en, movie night with Gwe-en!
Thankfully, she doesn't ask him to invite Gwaine. No matter how much she may want to for her own sick, sadistic jollies.
---
After taking several Asprin and practically running to the closest convenience store to buy the M&Ms Gwen requested, Merlin finds himself standing outside an unfamiliar door.
The door itself is pretty normal, he muses while he attempts not freaking out for a change, but where the hell am I?
He feels the way he did when he saw Gwen step out of that awesome car - insignificant and embarrassed by his own lack of success. The car had been Arthur's, though. This simple door was the one to Gwen's apartment. And it was attached to a high-class building with valet parking.
Merlin finally gets himself together enough to knock loudly on said simple white door. It opens, and he's already thrusting the M&Ms at Gwen's chest and nattering on about how he's seen Avatar at least seventeen times because it's one of Gwaine's favourites and -
"- you're not Gwen," he cuts himself off, cocking his head in befuddlement. The guy in front of him is slightly shorter, with a five o'clock shadow around his jaw and an unflattering beanie messily covering his hair. Merlin, through his confusion, also deducts that this man is not Lance, either, given the lack of smouldering eyes and half-open shirt.
"No," the guy says like he's talking to someone who has a severe mental disorder. "I'm not. I'm Arthur, in case you've forgotten in the twenty-two hours it's been since we last met."
Merlin blinks once.
Twice.
Oh, hey, it is Arthur.
He grins sheepishly. "Sorry. Didn't recognise you without your hair gel and Italian blazer."
Arthur glares at him, looking like he wants nothing more than to slam the door right in Merlin's face. Before he can act on that, though, Gwen comes rushing in from nowhere.
"Merlin, you're here!" She hugs him tightly around the middle, ignoring Arthur's yelp of protest as she elbows him aside. "Brilliant, now we can watch the movie."
Handing her the M&Ms, Arthur rolls his eyes. "And I can go back to sleep. Lance is in the kitchen," he adds as an afterthought. "Maybe I can get him to make me a sandwich…"
"Wait," Merlin interrupts Arthur's fantasies of the perfect sandwich. "You live here, too?"
"We all do," Gwen says brightly. Arthur makes a face at the back of her head and starts to walk away, but a sudden idea strikes Merlin, and he grabs the man's arm.
Ignoring Arthur's eyebrow-speak of why-are-you-touching-me, Merlin says, "You two should join us."
"Yes!" Gwen latches onto the idea like a leech, taking hold of Arthur's other arm. Now he's trapped, and, if Merlin can gauge his facial ticks properly, about 3.4 seconds away from screaming for Lance.
Lance must have radio transmitters in his brain (or maybe he just heard Gwen's high-pitched squeal, but Merlin likes the first idea so much better), because he ambles out of a door that must be to the kitchen just as Merlin thinks his name.
"That sounds like fun," Lance says with a serene little smile, hands in his pockets like he hasn't a care in the world. "I still haven't seen Avatar."
"Are you kidding me? You are such a hipster, Lancel-"
"- Arthur, if you're just going to stand there and insult Lance all day then you might as well -"
"- Gwen, it's okay, if Arthur wants to watch the movie -""- I don't -"
"- then we should let him watch. It's only fai-"
"- No, he's being a prat again, and you know once you get him started it's damn near impo-"
"- I want to go to sleep -"
"- Lance, hear me out. It starts with one jab at your taste in music, then it's a smartass comment about James Cameron, and then it progresses into -"
"- You don't know for certain that -"
"- Oh, yes I do -"
"- that he'll be an insufferable arse like usual, tonight could be differ-"
"Mom! Dad!" Arthur finally bellows, throwing his hands up and nearly knocking a stunned Merlin in the nose. "Shut your traps, I am going to bed since I have to work nights again this week, okay?"
With that, he turns on his heel and stalks off, somehow managing to look regal even in baggy sweatpants and what appear to be Gwen's bunny slippers.
Merlin turns to his hosts, whose faces have been completely wiped of anger and irritation and replaced with warm smiles like the argument hadn't even occurred. It kind of terrifies Merlin to an extent.
"Does that happen, er, often?" he asks, trying not to sound too awkward.
Lance and Gwen look at each other and shrug simultaneously.
"Yeah," Lance says, leaning around Merlin to finally close the door. What the neighbours must have been thinking… "Arthur's kind of a spoiled brat, but he pays the majority of the rent."
Gwen, who seems to have already forgotten Arthur's existence, has fluttered off to the telly by the hallway to tinker with it.
"Want something to eat?" Lance asks, cutting into Merlin's bewilderment.
"Er, yeah, sure."
Merlin follows him into the gleaming kitchen, leaning against a countertop while Lance inspects the contents of the fridge.
"Let's see… Pepsi, Sprite, or glow worms?"
---
When Arthur comes out of his bedroom to snag a glass of water, hours later, the sight awaiting him is both strange and slightly comforting. He stifles a surprised laugh, trying not to wake his roommates and Merlin up.
Wrappers are strewed everywhere, and if it was his week to clean he'd be throwing a fit right about now. There are empty ice cream containers and Sprite cans and a patch of the carpet appears to be glowing in the dark. It's truly a magnificent catastrophe, and Arthur kind of wants to applaud them for managing to make such a mess without getting off of the couch.
The couch. He can't pry the grin off his face when he looks at it for too long.
It's hard to tell where any of them end and the others begin. It looks like Gwen started out in the middle, but her head's in Lance's lap and her feet are dangling off the side. Merlin is snuggled up to Lance's side, their legs entwined so badly that when they wake up Arthur is sure they'll fall over immediately. And Lance - well. Lance is taking up as much room as is humanly possible, as usual.
Arthur smiles to himself and quietly continues into the kitchen. He may hate the fact that he has to live with the two people who once made his life hell, but when they act all adorable like that, there's no way he can stay angry.
Not that they'd ever, ever know that. Of course.
And Merlin, Arthur scoffs softly as he pours himself some water from the jug Gwen accidentally left on the counter again. The guy's completely out-of-sorts.
Cute, but out-of-sorts.
---
chapter five here
Author: somerdaye
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, some Gwaine/Merlin and Lancelot/Gwen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Gwaine Stanford is your only friend, you know it's time to switch things up a little. Old and new and more-thans.
Word Count: 1700+
Note: I could really use a beta for this story, if anyone is interested! :) Also, I'll add the links and everything later. Right now, I'm just TIRED.
If someone were to look through Merlin's tally book, they would find no numbers or words, aside from the names. So if you were to ask him how he knows without a shadow of a doubt that at least half of the tallies under Gwen represent Saturdays - well, he wouldn't be able to give you certifiable proof.
It was always just kind of a fact. Saturdays were Gwen days. She'd gone to a Catholic boarding school for as long as he'd known her. Until high school, that is, when she put her foot down. After that she could yell out her window at Merlin's house, and he would probably hear her. They spent a lot of days together after that, but Saturdays were Gwen days.
When they were younger, if he was lucky, he'd catch a glimpse of her on Sunday mornings, when her dad would drive her back to the city. She'd wave and make a heart shape with her hands, and he would blow her a kiss.
These instances, however, didn't get recorded.
The tallies represent the amount of time spent with a person - and every Saturday, with little fail, Gwen would be at his door with rocky road ice cream in one hand and M&Ms in the other. They would mark the tally together, laughing about how, even when they're forty with jobs and families and dogs and exercise machines they never use, Saturday will still be their day.
Merlin's phone rings at why-are-they-awake o'clock on what he assumes might be Saturday. After dinner the night before, Gwaine had wanted to go clubbing and simply refused to stop pestering Merlin until he agreed to come along.
He's had about an hour's sleep, so if he sounds a little irritable when he answers his phone with a "The fuck d'you want?", it's purely Gwaine's fault.
"Morning, sunshine!" Gwen's voice chirps, much too loudly, from the speaker.
"Shit, Gwen," he groans, blocking his eyes from the insistent light streaming through his broken blinds. "Whatever you want, couldn't it have waited?"
He rubs his knuckles into his eyes, pushing back a budding migraine.
"No," she says simply. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over later. I have rocky road and Avatar. Can you pick up some M&Ms? Not peanut ones, though - Lance is allergic."
It takes Merlin quite a bit to process what exactly Gwen's offer (demand, really) means. And then his headache and lack of sleep and Gwaine's general Gwaineness don't matter because he gets to have a proper Gwen night for the first time in almost nine years.
"Love to," he finally replies, a grin spreading uninvited across his face. He's just barely resisting the urge to dance around his bedroom singing nonsense because movie night with Gwe-en, movie night with Gwe-en.
(And he only really resists because the movement might make him vomit all over his new rug.)
Gwen's telling him her address and what time he should stop by and asking whether he wants a pepperoni pizza or a Hawaiian, but he's not listening at all because;
Move night with Gwe-en, movie night with Gwe-en!
Thankfully, she doesn't ask him to invite Gwaine. No matter how much she may want to for her own sick, sadistic jollies.
---
After taking several Asprin and practically running to the closest convenience store to buy the M&Ms Gwen requested, Merlin finds himself standing outside an unfamiliar door.
The door itself is pretty normal, he muses while he attempts not freaking out for a change, but where the hell am I?
He feels the way he did when he saw Gwen step out of that awesome car - insignificant and embarrassed by his own lack of success. The car had been Arthur's, though. This simple door was the one to Gwen's apartment. And it was attached to a high-class building with valet parking.
Merlin finally gets himself together enough to knock loudly on said simple white door. It opens, and he's already thrusting the M&Ms at Gwen's chest and nattering on about how he's seen Avatar at least seventeen times because it's one of Gwaine's favourites and -
"- you're not Gwen," he cuts himself off, cocking his head in befuddlement. The guy in front of him is slightly shorter, with a five o'clock shadow around his jaw and an unflattering beanie messily covering his hair. Merlin, through his confusion, also deducts that this man is not Lance, either, given the lack of smouldering eyes and half-open shirt.
"No," the guy says like he's talking to someone who has a severe mental disorder. "I'm not. I'm Arthur, in case you've forgotten in the twenty-two hours it's been since we last met."
Merlin blinks once.
Twice.
Oh, hey, it is Arthur.
He grins sheepishly. "Sorry. Didn't recognise you without your hair gel and Italian blazer."
Arthur glares at him, looking like he wants nothing more than to slam the door right in Merlin's face. Before he can act on that, though, Gwen comes rushing in from nowhere.
"Merlin, you're here!" She hugs him tightly around the middle, ignoring Arthur's yelp of protest as she elbows him aside. "Brilliant, now we can watch the movie."
Handing her the M&Ms, Arthur rolls his eyes. "And I can go back to sleep. Lance is in the kitchen," he adds as an afterthought. "Maybe I can get him to make me a sandwich…"
"Wait," Merlin interrupts Arthur's fantasies of the perfect sandwich. "You live here, too?"
"We all do," Gwen says brightly. Arthur makes a face at the back of her head and starts to walk away, but a sudden idea strikes Merlin, and he grabs the man's arm.
Ignoring Arthur's eyebrow-speak of why-are-you-touching-me, Merlin says, "You two should join us."
"Yes!" Gwen latches onto the idea like a leech, taking hold of Arthur's other arm. Now he's trapped, and, if Merlin can gauge his facial ticks properly, about 3.4 seconds away from screaming for Lance.
Lance must have radio transmitters in his brain (or maybe he just heard Gwen's high-pitched squeal, but Merlin likes the first idea so much better), because he ambles out of a door that must be to the kitchen just as Merlin thinks his name.
"That sounds like fun," Lance says with a serene little smile, hands in his pockets like he hasn't a care in the world. "I still haven't seen Avatar."
"Are you kidding me? You are such a hipster, Lancel-"
"- Arthur, if you're just going to stand there and insult Lance all day then you might as well -"
"- Gwen, it's okay, if Arthur wants to watch the movie -""- I don't -"
"- then we should let him watch. It's only fai-"
"- No, he's being a prat again, and you know once you get him started it's damn near impo-"
"- I want to go to sleep -"
"- Lance, hear me out. It starts with one jab at your taste in music, then it's a smartass comment about James Cameron, and then it progresses into -"
"- You don't know for certain that -"
"- Oh, yes I do -"
"- that he'll be an insufferable arse like usual, tonight could be differ-"
"Mom! Dad!" Arthur finally bellows, throwing his hands up and nearly knocking a stunned Merlin in the nose. "Shut your traps, I am going to bed since I have to work nights again this week, okay?"
With that, he turns on his heel and stalks off, somehow managing to look regal even in baggy sweatpants and what appear to be Gwen's bunny slippers.
Merlin turns to his hosts, whose faces have been completely wiped of anger and irritation and replaced with warm smiles like the argument hadn't even occurred. It kind of terrifies Merlin to an extent.
"Does that happen, er, often?" he asks, trying not to sound too awkward.
Lance and Gwen look at each other and shrug simultaneously.
"Yeah," Lance says, leaning around Merlin to finally close the door. What the neighbours must have been thinking… "Arthur's kind of a spoiled brat, but he pays the majority of the rent."
Gwen, who seems to have already forgotten Arthur's existence, has fluttered off to the telly by the hallway to tinker with it.
"Want something to eat?" Lance asks, cutting into Merlin's bewilderment.
"Er, yeah, sure."
Merlin follows him into the gleaming kitchen, leaning against a countertop while Lance inspects the contents of the fridge.
"Let's see… Pepsi, Sprite, or glow worms?"
---
When Arthur comes out of his bedroom to snag a glass of water, hours later, the sight awaiting him is both strange and slightly comforting. He stifles a surprised laugh, trying not to wake his roommates and Merlin up.
Wrappers are strewed everywhere, and if it was his week to clean he'd be throwing a fit right about now. There are empty ice cream containers and Sprite cans and a patch of the carpet appears to be glowing in the dark. It's truly a magnificent catastrophe, and Arthur kind of wants to applaud them for managing to make such a mess without getting off of the couch.
The couch. He can't pry the grin off his face when he looks at it for too long.
It's hard to tell where any of them end and the others begin. It looks like Gwen started out in the middle, but her head's in Lance's lap and her feet are dangling off the side. Merlin is snuggled up to Lance's side, their legs entwined so badly that when they wake up Arthur is sure they'll fall over immediately. And Lance - well. Lance is taking up as much room as is humanly possible, as usual.
Arthur smiles to himself and quietly continues into the kitchen. He may hate the fact that he has to live with the two people who once made his life hell, but when they act all adorable like that, there's no way he can stay angry.
Not that they'd ever, ever know that. Of course.
And Merlin, Arthur scoffs softly as he pours himself some water from the jug Gwen accidentally left on the counter again. The guy's completely out-of-sorts.
Cute, but out-of-sorts.
---
chapter five here