WANTING - Part 1
SUMMARY: When Morgana must go on a three-month business trip, she asks her cousin Arthur Pendragon to 'keep an eye' on her sixteen year old adoptive brother, Merlin.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: Just shy of 18k
WARNINGS: Age difference (Merlin is 16; Arthur is 22); Arthur and Merlin are 'cousins' though not blood-related as Merlin is adopted.
POV: Arthur
WANTING
“My father is sending you to Dubai?”
Morgana nodded. “For three months,” she replied. “To promote a business partnership and set up a shell corporation. So I need you to look out for Merlin during that time.”
Arthur frowned. “And you’re sure Merlin’s going to be okay with me playing big brother while you’re gone?”
“He worships you, Arthur.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Arthur countered, blushing slightly. “He does not.”
But Morgana insisted. “He’s always worshipped you. Fancies you as some kind of knight in shining armour,” she said, smiling.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Really, Morgana was going to go there?
“Since mother died and my father decided to have a nervous breakdown, Merlin doesn’t have anybody but me in this world,” Morgana pressed the point. “I could tell your father that I won’t go but we both know that would be career suicide, even if we are family. I have to go to Dubai. And I can’t take Merlin with me. You’re the only one I can trust to keep an eye on him.”
“Really? Me?” Arthur teased lightly. “Even though I pulled your pigtails relentlessly when we were kids?”
Morgana slapped his shoulder playfully. “He’s sixteen, Arthur,” she said. “He knows how to feed and wash himself. And he doesn’t need to be reminded to brush his teeth. He’s not a puppy who needs fresh food and water and to be walked three times a day.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because I would definitely not trust you if he was. But Merlin is s self-sufficient teenager. I just need you to look out for him while I’m away.”
Morgana wouldn’t trust him with a puppy? Wow, that hurt.
“He’s in school during the week,” Morgana continued. “And he pretty much keeps to himself the rest of the time. It’s not like you’ll have to drive him to band or football practice. He likes to read and draw.”
“Draw?”
Morgana nodded. “Sketches and stuff. He’s quite talented actually.” Morgana beamed. “Talented enough for The Ruskin.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows. The Ruskin was considered one of the most prominent art schools in the country. If Merlin really had that kind of talent, then Arthur knew Morgana would pull every string she knew to make sure her precious little brother got accepted into Oxford’s finest school for the fine arts.
Merlin had always been the centre of Morgana’s world. Morgana’s mother Vivienne - his father’s sister and Arthur’s aunt - had fallen in love with the four-year old orphaned boy and had insisted on adopting him, making him an integral part of the Le Fay family.
Thirteen at the time, Morgana had fallen just as hard as her mother and from the day Merlin was brought home to stay with her family, his cousin started doting on him and had never stopped. Merlin was perfect in Morgana’s eyes and heart. Her world revolved around the boy.
The only one of the Le Fay family who had been immune to Merlin’s charms was Gorlois, Morgana’s father. He had welcomed the boy into his home because his wife and daughter loved him, but Gorlois had never fully embraced love for Merlin. Arthur suspected that the man had always been a little jealous of Merlin for capturing Vivienne and Morgana’s hearts.
When Aunt Vivienne had lost her battle with cancer three years ago, it had been a devastating loss for all of them. Completely heartbroken, Gorlois had essentially withdrawn from his family. The last Arthur had heard, he had gone to stay with his daughter from a previous marriage - Morgause - because the memories of his wife that lingered in the house and through Morgana and Merlin were just too painful. Morgana had been much stronger and better able to hide the pain of losing her mother, focusing all of her attention instead on Merlin.
And Merlin...Vivienne’s death had taken a great toll on him. Like Gorlois, he had withdrawn but more so into himself than away.
Morgana was now really the only family he had. Now that Morgana needed to go to Dubai for three months, it would leave sixteen year old Merlin on his own, with no immediate family. Arthur understood Morgana was worried about making Merlin feel ‘orphaned’ again and was relying on him - the only other ‘family’ she and Merlin had - to look out for him.
He also knew this worshipping thing was absolute bunk - a ploy on Morgana’s part to get Arthur to agree to “keep an eye” on Merlin. It was true Merlin had tagged after him when they were kids but that was because Arthur had tagged after Morgana and Merlin, the youngest of them, had simply tried to keep up. There were no stars in Merlin’s eyes. No hero worshipping. Just a kid who didn’t want to be left behind. Arthur could relate to that.
“Okay,” he said.
Morgana threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Oh, thank you, Arthur! You’re the best!”
“So when do you leave?” he asked her, extracting himself from her bone-crushing embrace.
“Sunday,” she told him.
“That soon,” he replied. “Are you sure you’re going to have time to pack your fifty pairs of shoes?” he teased.
Morgana grinned. “Watch me,” she said then spun on one of her signature death-defying heels and clipped her way toward Arthur’s door.
**
Arthur pulled his black SUV into the Le Fay’s driveway.
It was Wednesday. Morgana had just left for her three-month business trip the past Sunday and Arthur figured he’d touch base with Merlin so the boy knew he really did have someone to count on while his sister was away. After all, he had promised Morgana that he would act the responsible adult so that one day she might actually trust him to watch a puppy.
Arthur knocked on the side door of the house - it was the one the Le Fay family had always used that opened up into the kitchen - and waited for Merlin to answer it. When two full minutes went by, Arthur started to wonder if Merlin was even home. But just as he was considering getting back into his truck, the door opened, revealing the house’s only current occupant.
Merlin mumbled “hey” and gestured for Arthur to come inside.
Arthur hadn’t seen much of Merlin over the past three years since Aunt Vivienne had passed away, except for the occasional holiday get-together. He still looked the same - bright blue eyes, killer cheekbones, dark hair that curled at the ears - but somehow different. More mature. More beautiful. His long, lean frame was accentuated by dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt and he moved lithely, gracefully. His dark hair was lightly tousled, damp, as though he had recently come out of the shower.
“Just checking in on you,” Arthur explained, moving into the kitchen. He watched Merlin pull open the fridge, extract a jug of milk, uncap it, then lift it to his lips and chug some of it back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. He swiped the back of his hand over his lips, re-capped the jug, and returned it to the fridge.
“Morgana just left,” Merlin said. “I’m not a puppy who needs to be walked.” Arthur saw the corner of Merlin’s mouth twitch and realized the kid was being cheeky with him.
“Yeah, well, I told Morgana I’d keep an eye on you the next three months while she’s away. So this is me doing the first of that.” Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look. “You got a cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Go get it,” Arthur told him. When Merlin returned with is mobile in hand, Arthur passed him a piece of paper. “That’s my mobile number. Put it into your phone.”
“Like right now?”
“Yeah, like right now.”
Arthur watched as Merlin’s long fingers tapped out the numbers of his mobile into his contact list. Arthur pulled his own mobile phone from the inner pocket of his leather jacket and said, “Okay, now what’s yours?”
Arthur keyed in the numbers as Merlin relayed them out loud. When he was finished, he typed a simple text and hit send.
Merlin gave Arthur a sardonic look when his mobile chirped, indicating he had a text message.
“Just testing,” Arthur said with a grin.
Merlin rolled his eyes but his mouth lifted in half-grin.
“Got enough food in the house for the next couple of weeks?” Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded.
“Know how to do your own laundry?”
Nod.
“Brushing your teeth every night before bed?”
Eye roll.
Arthur smiled. “What do you say I pick you up at school this Friday for pizza and a movie with Lance and me at my place?”
Merlin shrugged a shoulder. “Sure.”
Well, there was one thing Arthur could say about Merlin that was still pretty much the same - he wasn’t much of a talker.
**
Arthur pulled alongside the curb on the north side of the school, which was the designated pickup area, and waited for Merlin and the other students to be released. He had intentionally arrived early so that Merlin could spot him easily but had sent him a text message for good measure anyway to let Merlin know he was parked in the pickup area, already waiting.
Five minutes passed before kids started spilling out of the front and side doors, making their way in every direction. Arthur scanned the crowd for Merlin, finally spotting him - clad in a well-worn black hoodie. It was March and Arthur made a mental note to review the basics of dressing for the weather with Merlin before - God forbid - the boy should catch a cold on his watch.
As Merlin crossed the grounds towards Arthur’s truck, a group of burly jock-types zeroed in on him and started shoving Merlin around among them. Arthur was about to get out his truck to lay it out for the gang but he saw Merlin give a firm and decisive push back to the ring leader of the group and noticed the rest backed away. He was impressed. But then, Merlin was a Le Fay - in spirit if not by birth - and Morgana’s brother, after all. And like the Pendragons, Le Fays were not known to let others push them around - figuratively or literally.
“Those blokes giving you a hard time?” Arthur asked when Merlin climbed into the truck and slumped into the passenger seat.
A flush appeared on Merlin’s cheekbones. “Not too fond of the artsy types, is all,” he mumbled.
Arthur let it go at that.
**
Lance showed up just after Arthur had ordered the pizza. He gave Merlin a friendly smile and a cheery hello and settled himself into the familiar niche on the sofa.
Merlin was curled up on the recliner, his sketch pad in his lap, his gaze fixed on the task before him as he moved the pencil across the paper with effortless strokes. He looked up briefly and returned Lance’s welcome with a nod.
“So you’re looking after Arthur while Morgana’s away?” Lance teased.
“Something like that,” Merlin mumbled in response and Lance chuckled.
Arthur went to the fridge and rooted around in search of a couple of cans of Pepsi but came up empty.
“Damn,” he muttered, disappointed.
“What’s the matter?” Lance asked him.
“I’m outta Pepsi,” he said, closing the fridge door. “And I was so looking forward to P and P tonight.”
Merlin looked up. “I’ll go pick some up for you,” he offered, already jumping up from the recliner, setting his sketch pad on the coffee table.
“You don’t have to that, Merlin,” he told him. “It’s no big deal.”
“No bother,” Merlin insisted. He’d already grabbed his hoodie. “Got to wait for the pizza anyway.”
“Okay. There’s a convenience store on the corner two blocks west,” Arthur told him, pulling out his wallet to extract some notes for Merlin. “A six-pack will probably do it.”
Merlin took the notes, pulled his hood up and headed out to the store, leaving Arthur and Lance to wait for the pizza delivery.
Lance smiled cheekily at him, a gleam in his eyes. “Now that boy definitely has a crush on you,” he proclaimed.
“He does not have a crush on me,” Arthur countered, a rosy blush involuntarily creeping up into his cheeks. “Morgana says it’s some kind of hero worship thing,” he clarified.
“It’s a crush,” Lance said, still grinning. “You can see it plain as day in his eyes when he looks at you. And how quick was he to offer to run and get some Pepsi for you?”
“He’s sixteen,” Arthur said as though that was proof of Merlin’s non-crush.
“Yeah. And he’s totally crushing on you.”
“Fuck off,” Arthur told Lance congenially. He grabbed a sofa cushion and batted it against the side of his best friend’s head. This abuse did nothing to wipe the grin off the bastard’s face.
Merlin was back from the store with the Pepsi about two minutes after the pizza arrived.
They ate pizza, drank sodas, and watched a couple of action flicks on dvd. A number of times throughout the evening, he caught Merlin glancing at him from under his long eyelashes but the boy quickly darted his gaze away whenever Arthur’s eyes met his. He wasn’t sure if this was what Lance had meant by “the way Merlin looked at him” but it was rather curious. And when Arthur drained his first can of Pepsi, Merlin quickly jumped up and retrieved another from the fridge for him. While Merlin’s back was turned, Lance elbowed Arthur in the ribs, waggled his eyebrows at him and grinned - to which Arthur responded with a stiff shot of his middle finger before Merlin settled back into the recliner.
Maybe Merlin did have a crush on him.
Lance got up to leave after the second movie, nodding his head toward Merlin who was zonked out on the recliner. Arthur smiled. Apparently caffeinated beverages and some quick-paced, suspenseful action had not been enough to keep the boy awake.
Arthur saw his friend out then went to his bedroom, collected a pillow from his bed and an extra blanket from the closet. There was no sense in driving Merlin home at this hour in his sleepy state. So he would set him up comfortably on the sofa and drive him home in the morning.
He tossed the pillow and blanket onto the sofa. Then he quietly approached Merlin sleeping in the recliner, noting the way his head was lolled to one side, his mouth slightly open, his lips full and pink. He didn’t want to startle him from his sleep, so Arthur leaned in and said softly, “Merlin.”
There was no movement so he brushed a finger across the boy’s cheekbone and softly called his name again.
This time Merlin did stir, his lashes fluttering in slow motion as his blue eyes peeked open. It was such an ordinary movement - slowly waking up from sleep - but somehow Merlin managed to make it appear sexy as hell and, to his disconcert, Arthur felt his cock twitch.
Merlin glanced around sleepily, his gaze coming to rest on Arthur. “Did I miss the end of the movie?” he asked.
Arthur took two steps back and swallowed, trying to regain control over his traitorous body. He was sure he was blushing and hoped Merlin was sleepy-headed enough not to notice and wonder.
“Yeah,” Arthur replied distractedly. He jerked his head toward the sofa. “Got you a pillow and blanket so you can crash more comfortably,” he said. “I can drive you back home tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Merlin mumbled. He climbed out of the recliner, brushed past Arthur, and stretched his long frame out on the sofa, pulling the blanket up over him.
Arthur watched the boy settle with the intention of drifting back to sleep before he mumbled “goodnight” and headed off to his own bedroom.
“Night,” he heard Merlin return then silence.
In his own bed, Arthur tried to sleep but found himself tossing and turning. It wasn’t the caffeine from the three cans of Pepsi he had had over the stretch of the evening that was preventing him from falling asleep. It was Merlin. Merlin - and his beautiful blue eyes, long lashes, and fantastic cheekbones.
He palmed his cock and stroked vigorously. And if he told himself he would sleep better after he came, no one had to know he thought of Merlin as he pulled himself to release.
**
Arthur was surprised to find Merlin already awake and sitting at the breakfast bar when he stumbled into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Merlin looked up from his sketch pad and not-so-subtly raked his eyes over Arthur’s chest, making Arthur self-consciously aware that he was bare-chested, clad in only his sleep pants.
“Morning,” he mumbled as he measured out water and ground coffee into the coffee maker. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Merlin responded. Arthur could still feel the boy’s eyes on him even though his back was turned, and decided not to feel self-conscious about it. He knew he had a nice physique and a teenage boy like Merlin could probably appreciate that. It didn’t have to mean anything.
Arthur opened up the fridge. “Coffee and left over pizza for breakfast?”
He turned, a slice of cold pizza already in his hand on the way to his mouth, and saw Merlin grinning.
“And you had the nerve to ask me about the supply of food in my house,” he bantered.
“So I take it that’s a yes?” Arthur said, pulling out the remaining slices of pizza and placing them on the counter next to Merlin.
Merlin grabbed a cold slice. “I’ll skip the coffee, though.” He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Orange juice?”
“Nope,” Arthur replied, grinning.
Arthur drank coffee - black - with his pizza breakfast then told Merlin he was going to take a quick shower and then drive him home. Merlin seemed content to sit at the counter bar, doodling in his sketch pad, while polishing off the rest of the pizza - with a large glass of cold tap water.
After Arthur had showered and dressed, Merlin used the bathroom to freshen up - which Arthur surmised probably consisted of splashing water onto his face and patting his hair down. Arthur made to tidy up the living room by gathering empty soda cans and collecting the linen from the sofa.
He shook the blanket to fold it, realizing too late that Merlin’s satchel was nestled in it. The bag tipped off the sofa, and some of the contents spilled from it - namely a portfolio folder with some loose sketch sheets that slid out and scattered.
Arthur tossed the blanket down and leaned over to pick up the sheets that had scattered and found himself looking at his own face. Three of the five sheets were drawings of him.
“Did you draw these?” Arthur asked Merlin as he came from the bathroom.
Merlin’s attention was drawn to his spilled satchel and then to the sketches in Arthur’s hand. He cast his eyes down shyly. “Yeah.”
Arthur looked more closely at the drawings. They were magnificent, in spite of the chosen subject matter. Merlin had captured perfectly his crooked smile, the slant of his nose, the arrogant gleam in his eyes, even the stubborn tuft of hair on his right side that refused to behave. Morgana was right - Merlin had talent.
“They’re good,” he said, handing Merlin the sketches. “I don’t know why anyone would want to draw me,” he added light-heartedly, “but they’re good.”
Merlin peeked up from under his eyelashes. “You’re beautiful, Arthur,” he said, a rosy hue settling over his cheekbones. He gave a quick glance up. “I mean, you gotta know that.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say. What did one say to a boy with a crush (or whatever) whom you thought was beautiful but was a little young and totally off-limits (if he valued his life, that is)?
Merlin shoved the sketches and his sketch pad into his bag and grabbed his hoodie on the rack by the door. Clearly, he was ready to go.
Neither of them said anything on the drive to Merlin’s house, though Arthur caught Merlin glancing at him cautiously a few times.
Merlin finally broke the silence when Arthur pulled into his driveway.
“Look, I’m sorry if I freaked you out or made you uncomfortable with the sketches,” he said. “I like to draw you. You have interesting features.”
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him, amused. He had interesting features?
“Like that,” Merlin said, his lips curling into a smile. “You’ve been cocking your eyebrow like that for years. I never get it right - with just that perfect amount of arrogantly amused expressiveness.”
Arthur didn’t know what surprised him more - that Merlin had just used a complex set of phrases that ended in “arrogantly amused expressiveness” or that he had tried to capture said expressiveness before, which meant that he had spent some time drawing Arthur.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said. Merlin slid him a dubious look.
“Okay,” Arthur admitted. “Maybe just a little. But that was before you explained I had interesting features.” He grinned at Merlin.
“Oh, okay then,” Merlin went along. He yanked the truck door open and hopped out with a breezy, “See ya.”
Arthur watched the boy stroll to the side door, unlock it, and let himself in before putting the SUV in gear and driving off.
**
Arthur had taken Merlin to the supermarket to restock some basic groceries. It was one of the ‘duties’ Morgana had assigned him as Merlin’s temporary caregiver. The boy had to remain nourished, she had reminded him yesterday when she had called to check in (up) on him.
He would have expected most teenaged boys like Merlin who were ‘home alone’ to stock up on junk food and goodies, but Merlin responsibly picked fresh fruit and vegetables as well as choice cuts of meat and plenty of fish. And milk, of course.
Merlin grinned as Arthur watched him place the healthy food in the cart. “I can cook as well as do my own laundry,” he told him cheekily. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll cook you dinner one night.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows and watched Merlin saunter up the aisle ahead of him. So the kid could cook, could he? Little Merlin had definitely grown up.
Arthur stopped in the bakery section for some freshly baked scones, letting Merlin continue on ahead toward the check out. He got a half dozen blueberry scones, vowing to share them with Merlin who could easily stand the extra carbohydrates and calories on his lean frame.
He put the paper bag of scones in the cart and wheeled down the next aisle, looking for Merlin. He found him helping a grandmotherly woman by using his height to reach a grocery item on the top shelf for her.
“Thank you, young man,” the elderly lady said to Merlin as Arthur wheeled up to them. Her eyes twinkled at Arthur as she said, “You are very lucky to have made such a good catch.”
A good catch? Arthur nearly sputtered as the woman tottered away, realizing that she obviously thought he and Merlin were a ‘couple’. He saw Merlin’s lips twitch before he turned and kept moving down the aisle.
They checked out the groceries, Merlin using an account Morgana had set up for him for household and personal expenses. Arthur had to admit that Merlin was very responsible when it came to finances. As far as he knew, Merlin hadn’t indulged at all like most young chaps would do if they had the kind of money Merlin did at their disposal.
Arthur paid for the scones separately. Merlin cast a curious glance at the paper bag as he packed up his groceries. Arthur smiled mysteriously, deciding to save the surprise until after they had gotten Merlin’s groceries home and unpacked.
Arthur helped Merlin carry the bags of groceries in and began placing the perishables into the fridge while Merlin stocked the pantry with canned and dry goods.
“I bought some blueberry scones to share with you,” Arthur told Merlin, as he transferred items to the fridge. “You still like blueberries, don’t you? I remember you used to love them when you were a kid.” It was true. He could see a six-year-old cherubic Merlin shoving handfuls of blueberries into his mouth until his cheeks looked like they would burst. Arthur gifted Merlin with a grin at the fond memory in his head.
Merlin assessed him oddly then remarked somewhat dryly, “No wonder Granny at the grocery store thought we were boyfriends.”
Arthur gave him a look that clearly expressed, “yeah, as if” and continued loading the refrigerator. Just because he and Merlin had been engaged in a highly domestic but totally innocent activity (buying groceries) and Arthur was now talking fondly and nostalgically about Merlin’s love of blueberries did not mean nor did it give the impression that the two of them were in any way a ‘couple’.
“Would that be so terrible?” Merlin asked quietly.
Arthur kept his head ducked in the fridge, ostensibly organizing items on the shelf. He really didn’t want to answer that question. He could pretend it was rhetorical, couldn’t he?
Realizing he wasn’t going to get an answer from him, Merlin shuffled his feet then continued placing items in the pantry.
Would it be so terrible if Merlin was his boyfriend? he asked himself. No. Not unless he was particularly attached to his balls - because Morgana would surely separate them from his body if he even entertained the idea.
“Yeah, I still like them,” Merlin mumbled, his head in the pantry. “Thanks.”
**
Merlin made good on his offer to cook dinner for Arthur the next weekend. He set places out for them in the cozy breakfast nook of the Le Fay kitchen, serving chicken parmesan over pasta with Caesar salad and hearty chunks of French bread on the side. He even uncorked a bottle of red wine he insisted Morgana would not miss and poured Arthur a full and himself less than a half glass.
Arthur was impressed. Merlin really could cook and he was a fantastic host. The boy would make a lucky woman very happy one day. He sipped his wine and devoured his meal, complimenting Merlin on his fine culinary skills.
A flush settled on Merlin’s cheekbones and he mumbled something that sounded like “thanks”.
Arthur grinned. Merlin was obviously pleased but embarrassed by his compliment.
“Morgana says you’re talented enough for The Ruskin,” Arthur said, trying to make conversation with the boy.
Merlin looked up from his plate and shrugged. “I’m applying after this year, but probably won’t get in,” he said. “They only take a select few.”
“I’ve only seen some of your work but you’re pretty talented,” Arthur said. He drank from his second glass of wine. “Got anything besides sketches of me you can show me?” he asked, his tone lightly teasing. It was mostly the wine talking, Arthur decided.
The corner of Merlin’s mouth tilted up. “Yeah.”
After they had finished eating, and at Arthur’s insistence, Merlin went up to his room to fetch other samples of his art work. He cleared the dishes from the table, opened a large portfolio and spread an array of sketches out for Arthur to view.
Some were scenery-type sketches with striking bits of colour artfully woven in that caught the eye in a pleasing but also intriguing way. There were sketches of Morgana that were amazing in detail and positively captivating. The most striking sketches, however, were the ones of Vivienne Le Fay. Merlin had captured the very essence of his mother - the softly curled raven hair that she had usually kept pinned up, the pure ivory skin with just a dusting of rose on the cheeks, the kindly green eyes that danced with happiness.
Arthur was particularly taken with the sketch he was now holding - of his Aunt Vivienne walking through a meadow, a young raven-haired girl skipping alongside her and a small boy with high cheekbones close beside her, clasping her hand and smiling. Arthur was not generally prone to sentimentality but this sketch spoke volumes to him and he felt a lump creep up into his throat.
When he was able to swallow the lump down and regain composure, he said to Merlin, “Your mother was truly a beautiful lady.”
Merlin nodded in agreement and Arthur saw the build up of emotion in the boy’s own eyes. He looked away, giving Merlin the courtesy of recomposing himself, and set the sketch of Vivienne and her children down with the others. He gestured at the collection. “These are amazing, Merlin. You are very gifted.”
The boy gathered the sketches and carefully slid them back into the portfolio. “It’s easy when you choose the right subject,” said Merlin, shrugging off the praise. He set the portfolio aside and began clearing the rest of the table.
Arthur gladly helped Merlin rinse then wash and dry the dishes. He tried not to think of the domesticity of it all and how mesmerizing Merlin’s long fingers were as they soaked and washed plates and bowls, sometimes grazing Arthur’s as they passed off rinsed dishes to be towel-dried.
Arthur could feel something building between them, a kind of unspoken connection, a connection that was both intimately new yet comfortably familiar.
Merlin dried his hands on the towel Arthur was holding. He caught Arthur’s eyes with his own blues, his gaze holding such wanton intensity that it made Arthur blush. The boy then settled his sights on Arthur’s mouth. Arthur licked his lips and watched as Merlin’s pupils dilated, betraying his arousal.
Arthur’s mobile suddenly chirped, interrupting the moment, giving him excuse to disengage from the sheer intensity of it. He fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and glanced at the display. It was Morgana. He pushed the button to answer, sliding Merlin an apologetic look that was, for some reason, mixed with ‘slightly guilty’.
“Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Morgana said breezily on the other end. “Like on a date or something.”
He could hear the amused lilt in her voice and knew that she secretly had hoped she had caught him on a date...or something.
“Just here with Merlin actually,” he told her. Merlin cast a curious glance his way and Arthur mouthed ‘Morgana’ at him.
“Oh, really?” Morgana expressed.
“He made me dinner,” Arthur quickly explained, though he was at a loss as to why he felt he had need to.
“Hmm, he is a good cook,” Morgana said. “Anyway, I just called to make sure you haven’t abandoned my baby brother.”
“Of course I haven’t,” Arthur said. “Besides, you call to check up on me every two days.” He thought he saw Merlin’s mouth twitch.
“And you’re getting on fantastically, I see,” Morgana said. “Remember, Arthur - puppy.”
Arthur could practically hear the sarcastic humour in her voice and almost ended the call on that merit.
Morgana laughed on her end and said, “Tell Merlin I love him and that I’ll call him later. Toodles.”
Now he pushed “end call” and shoved his mobile back into his pocket.
“Morgana says she’ll call you later,” Arthur told Merlin. He found himself swallowing before adding, “And she loves you.” Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
“Does she really call you every couple days to check up on you?” Merlin asked, looking somewhat sympathetic.
Arthur nodded miserably and, damn it all, the boy grinned.
As he lay in bed later that night, Arthur thought about the moment he had shared with Merlin at the sink. What had that been exactly? Obviously, Merlin had a crush on him. A very deep, intense crush that certainly involved fantasies about kissing him. Because Merlin had been thinking of kissing him, hadn’t he? Arthur didn’t think he had read that wrong.
And what if Merlin had kissed him? Surely, Arthur would have resisted the advance, while letting the boy down easy. But if that would have been the case, then why had Arthur felt so guilty when Morgana had called - as though he had been about to do something he had known he shouldn’t.
He turned on his side and tried to sleep, visions of Merlin's soft pink lips and wanting blue eyes haunting his sleep.
PART TWO
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: Just shy of 18k
WARNINGS: Age difference (Merlin is 16; Arthur is 22); Arthur and Merlin are 'cousins' though not blood-related as Merlin is adopted.
POV: Arthur
WANTING
“My father is sending you to Dubai?”
Morgana nodded. “For three months,” she replied. “To promote a business partnership and set up a shell corporation. So I need you to look out for Merlin during that time.”
Arthur frowned. “And you’re sure Merlin’s going to be okay with me playing big brother while you’re gone?”
“He worships you, Arthur.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Arthur countered, blushing slightly. “He does not.”
But Morgana insisted. “He’s always worshipped you. Fancies you as some kind of knight in shining armour,” she said, smiling.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Really, Morgana was going to go there?
“Since mother died and my father decided to have a nervous breakdown, Merlin doesn’t have anybody but me in this world,” Morgana pressed the point. “I could tell your father that I won’t go but we both know that would be career suicide, even if we are family. I have to go to Dubai. And I can’t take Merlin with me. You’re the only one I can trust to keep an eye on him.”
“Really? Me?” Arthur teased lightly. “Even though I pulled your pigtails relentlessly when we were kids?”
Morgana slapped his shoulder playfully. “He’s sixteen, Arthur,” she said. “He knows how to feed and wash himself. And he doesn’t need to be reminded to brush his teeth. He’s not a puppy who needs fresh food and water and to be walked three times a day.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because I would definitely not trust you if he was. But Merlin is s self-sufficient teenager. I just need you to look out for him while I’m away.”
Morgana wouldn’t trust him with a puppy? Wow, that hurt.
“He’s in school during the week,” Morgana continued. “And he pretty much keeps to himself the rest of the time. It’s not like you’ll have to drive him to band or football practice. He likes to read and draw.”
“Draw?”
Morgana nodded. “Sketches and stuff. He’s quite talented actually.” Morgana beamed. “Talented enough for The Ruskin.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows. The Ruskin was considered one of the most prominent art schools in the country. If Merlin really had that kind of talent, then Arthur knew Morgana would pull every string she knew to make sure her precious little brother got accepted into Oxford’s finest school for the fine arts.
Merlin had always been the centre of Morgana’s world. Morgana’s mother Vivienne - his father’s sister and Arthur’s aunt - had fallen in love with the four-year old orphaned boy and had insisted on adopting him, making him an integral part of the Le Fay family.
Thirteen at the time, Morgana had fallen just as hard as her mother and from the day Merlin was brought home to stay with her family, his cousin started doting on him and had never stopped. Merlin was perfect in Morgana’s eyes and heart. Her world revolved around the boy.
The only one of the Le Fay family who had been immune to Merlin’s charms was Gorlois, Morgana’s father. He had welcomed the boy into his home because his wife and daughter loved him, but Gorlois had never fully embraced love for Merlin. Arthur suspected that the man had always been a little jealous of Merlin for capturing Vivienne and Morgana’s hearts.
When Aunt Vivienne had lost her battle with cancer three years ago, it had been a devastating loss for all of them. Completely heartbroken, Gorlois had essentially withdrawn from his family. The last Arthur had heard, he had gone to stay with his daughter from a previous marriage - Morgause - because the memories of his wife that lingered in the house and through Morgana and Merlin were just too painful. Morgana had been much stronger and better able to hide the pain of losing her mother, focusing all of her attention instead on Merlin.
And Merlin...Vivienne’s death had taken a great toll on him. Like Gorlois, he had withdrawn but more so into himself than away.
Morgana was now really the only family he had. Now that Morgana needed to go to Dubai for three months, it would leave sixteen year old Merlin on his own, with no immediate family. Arthur understood Morgana was worried about making Merlin feel ‘orphaned’ again and was relying on him - the only other ‘family’ she and Merlin had - to look out for him.
He also knew this worshipping thing was absolute bunk - a ploy on Morgana’s part to get Arthur to agree to “keep an eye” on Merlin. It was true Merlin had tagged after him when they were kids but that was because Arthur had tagged after Morgana and Merlin, the youngest of them, had simply tried to keep up. There were no stars in Merlin’s eyes. No hero worshipping. Just a kid who didn’t want to be left behind. Arthur could relate to that.
“Okay,” he said.
Morgana threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Oh, thank you, Arthur! You’re the best!”
“So when do you leave?” he asked her, extracting himself from her bone-crushing embrace.
“Sunday,” she told him.
“That soon,” he replied. “Are you sure you’re going to have time to pack your fifty pairs of shoes?” he teased.
Morgana grinned. “Watch me,” she said then spun on one of her signature death-defying heels and clipped her way toward Arthur’s door.
**
Arthur pulled his black SUV into the Le Fay’s driveway.
It was Wednesday. Morgana had just left for her three-month business trip the past Sunday and Arthur figured he’d touch base with Merlin so the boy knew he really did have someone to count on while his sister was away. After all, he had promised Morgana that he would act the responsible adult so that one day she might actually trust him to watch a puppy.
Arthur knocked on the side door of the house - it was the one the Le Fay family had always used that opened up into the kitchen - and waited for Merlin to answer it. When two full minutes went by, Arthur started to wonder if Merlin was even home. But just as he was considering getting back into his truck, the door opened, revealing the house’s only current occupant.
Merlin mumbled “hey” and gestured for Arthur to come inside.
Arthur hadn’t seen much of Merlin over the past three years since Aunt Vivienne had passed away, except for the occasional holiday get-together. He still looked the same - bright blue eyes, killer cheekbones, dark hair that curled at the ears - but somehow different. More mature. More beautiful. His long, lean frame was accentuated by dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt and he moved lithely, gracefully. His dark hair was lightly tousled, damp, as though he had recently come out of the shower.
“Just checking in on you,” Arthur explained, moving into the kitchen. He watched Merlin pull open the fridge, extract a jug of milk, uncap it, then lift it to his lips and chug some of it back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. He swiped the back of his hand over his lips, re-capped the jug, and returned it to the fridge.
“Morgana just left,” Merlin said. “I’m not a puppy who needs to be walked.” Arthur saw the corner of Merlin’s mouth twitch and realized the kid was being cheeky with him.
“Yeah, well, I told Morgana I’d keep an eye on you the next three months while she’s away. So this is me doing the first of that.” Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look. “You got a cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Go get it,” Arthur told him. When Merlin returned with is mobile in hand, Arthur passed him a piece of paper. “That’s my mobile number. Put it into your phone.”
“Like right now?”
“Yeah, like right now.”
Arthur watched as Merlin’s long fingers tapped out the numbers of his mobile into his contact list. Arthur pulled his own mobile phone from the inner pocket of his leather jacket and said, “Okay, now what’s yours?”
Arthur keyed in the numbers as Merlin relayed them out loud. When he was finished, he typed a simple text and hit send.
Merlin gave Arthur a sardonic look when his mobile chirped, indicating he had a text message.
“Just testing,” Arthur said with a grin.
Merlin rolled his eyes but his mouth lifted in half-grin.
“Got enough food in the house for the next couple of weeks?” Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded.
“Know how to do your own laundry?”
Nod.
“Brushing your teeth every night before bed?”
Eye roll.
Arthur smiled. “What do you say I pick you up at school this Friday for pizza and a movie with Lance and me at my place?”
Merlin shrugged a shoulder. “Sure.”
Well, there was one thing Arthur could say about Merlin that was still pretty much the same - he wasn’t much of a talker.
**
Arthur pulled alongside the curb on the north side of the school, which was the designated pickup area, and waited for Merlin and the other students to be released. He had intentionally arrived early so that Merlin could spot him easily but had sent him a text message for good measure anyway to let Merlin know he was parked in the pickup area, already waiting.
Five minutes passed before kids started spilling out of the front and side doors, making their way in every direction. Arthur scanned the crowd for Merlin, finally spotting him - clad in a well-worn black hoodie. It was March and Arthur made a mental note to review the basics of dressing for the weather with Merlin before - God forbid - the boy should catch a cold on his watch.
As Merlin crossed the grounds towards Arthur’s truck, a group of burly jock-types zeroed in on him and started shoving Merlin around among them. Arthur was about to get out his truck to lay it out for the gang but he saw Merlin give a firm and decisive push back to the ring leader of the group and noticed the rest backed away. He was impressed. But then, Merlin was a Le Fay - in spirit if not by birth - and Morgana’s brother, after all. And like the Pendragons, Le Fays were not known to let others push them around - figuratively or literally.
“Those blokes giving you a hard time?” Arthur asked when Merlin climbed into the truck and slumped into the passenger seat.
A flush appeared on Merlin’s cheekbones. “Not too fond of the artsy types, is all,” he mumbled.
Arthur let it go at that.
**
Lance showed up just after Arthur had ordered the pizza. He gave Merlin a friendly smile and a cheery hello and settled himself into the familiar niche on the sofa.
Merlin was curled up on the recliner, his sketch pad in his lap, his gaze fixed on the task before him as he moved the pencil across the paper with effortless strokes. He looked up briefly and returned Lance’s welcome with a nod.
“So you’re looking after Arthur while Morgana’s away?” Lance teased.
“Something like that,” Merlin mumbled in response and Lance chuckled.
Arthur went to the fridge and rooted around in search of a couple of cans of Pepsi but came up empty.
“Damn,” he muttered, disappointed.
“What’s the matter?” Lance asked him.
“I’m outta Pepsi,” he said, closing the fridge door. “And I was so looking forward to P and P tonight.”
Merlin looked up. “I’ll go pick some up for you,” he offered, already jumping up from the recliner, setting his sketch pad on the coffee table.
“You don’t have to that, Merlin,” he told him. “It’s no big deal.”
“No bother,” Merlin insisted. He’d already grabbed his hoodie. “Got to wait for the pizza anyway.”
“Okay. There’s a convenience store on the corner two blocks west,” Arthur told him, pulling out his wallet to extract some notes for Merlin. “A six-pack will probably do it.”
Merlin took the notes, pulled his hood up and headed out to the store, leaving Arthur and Lance to wait for the pizza delivery.
Lance smiled cheekily at him, a gleam in his eyes. “Now that boy definitely has a crush on you,” he proclaimed.
“He does not have a crush on me,” Arthur countered, a rosy blush involuntarily creeping up into his cheeks. “Morgana says it’s some kind of hero worship thing,” he clarified.
“It’s a crush,” Lance said, still grinning. “You can see it plain as day in his eyes when he looks at you. And how quick was he to offer to run and get some Pepsi for you?”
“He’s sixteen,” Arthur said as though that was proof of Merlin’s non-crush.
“Yeah. And he’s totally crushing on you.”
“Fuck off,” Arthur told Lance congenially. He grabbed a sofa cushion and batted it against the side of his best friend’s head. This abuse did nothing to wipe the grin off the bastard’s face.
Merlin was back from the store with the Pepsi about two minutes after the pizza arrived.
They ate pizza, drank sodas, and watched a couple of action flicks on dvd. A number of times throughout the evening, he caught Merlin glancing at him from under his long eyelashes but the boy quickly darted his gaze away whenever Arthur’s eyes met his. He wasn’t sure if this was what Lance had meant by “the way Merlin looked at him” but it was rather curious. And when Arthur drained his first can of Pepsi, Merlin quickly jumped up and retrieved another from the fridge for him. While Merlin’s back was turned, Lance elbowed Arthur in the ribs, waggled his eyebrows at him and grinned - to which Arthur responded with a stiff shot of his middle finger before Merlin settled back into the recliner.
Maybe Merlin did have a crush on him.
Lance got up to leave after the second movie, nodding his head toward Merlin who was zonked out on the recliner. Arthur smiled. Apparently caffeinated beverages and some quick-paced, suspenseful action had not been enough to keep the boy awake.
Arthur saw his friend out then went to his bedroom, collected a pillow from his bed and an extra blanket from the closet. There was no sense in driving Merlin home at this hour in his sleepy state. So he would set him up comfortably on the sofa and drive him home in the morning.
He tossed the pillow and blanket onto the sofa. Then he quietly approached Merlin sleeping in the recliner, noting the way his head was lolled to one side, his mouth slightly open, his lips full and pink. He didn’t want to startle him from his sleep, so Arthur leaned in and said softly, “Merlin.”
There was no movement so he brushed a finger across the boy’s cheekbone and softly called his name again.
This time Merlin did stir, his lashes fluttering in slow motion as his blue eyes peeked open. It was such an ordinary movement - slowly waking up from sleep - but somehow Merlin managed to make it appear sexy as hell and, to his disconcert, Arthur felt his cock twitch.
Merlin glanced around sleepily, his gaze coming to rest on Arthur. “Did I miss the end of the movie?” he asked.
Arthur took two steps back and swallowed, trying to regain control over his traitorous body. He was sure he was blushing and hoped Merlin was sleepy-headed enough not to notice and wonder.
“Yeah,” Arthur replied distractedly. He jerked his head toward the sofa. “Got you a pillow and blanket so you can crash more comfortably,” he said. “I can drive you back home tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Merlin mumbled. He climbed out of the recliner, brushed past Arthur, and stretched his long frame out on the sofa, pulling the blanket up over him.
Arthur watched the boy settle with the intention of drifting back to sleep before he mumbled “goodnight” and headed off to his own bedroom.
“Night,” he heard Merlin return then silence.
In his own bed, Arthur tried to sleep but found himself tossing and turning. It wasn’t the caffeine from the three cans of Pepsi he had had over the stretch of the evening that was preventing him from falling asleep. It was Merlin. Merlin - and his beautiful blue eyes, long lashes, and fantastic cheekbones.
He palmed his cock and stroked vigorously. And if he told himself he would sleep better after he came, no one had to know he thought of Merlin as he pulled himself to release.
**
Arthur was surprised to find Merlin already awake and sitting at the breakfast bar when he stumbled into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Merlin looked up from his sketch pad and not-so-subtly raked his eyes over Arthur’s chest, making Arthur self-consciously aware that he was bare-chested, clad in only his sleep pants.
“Morning,” he mumbled as he measured out water and ground coffee into the coffee maker. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Merlin responded. Arthur could still feel the boy’s eyes on him even though his back was turned, and decided not to feel self-conscious about it. He knew he had a nice physique and a teenage boy like Merlin could probably appreciate that. It didn’t have to mean anything.
Arthur opened up the fridge. “Coffee and left over pizza for breakfast?”
He turned, a slice of cold pizza already in his hand on the way to his mouth, and saw Merlin grinning.
“And you had the nerve to ask me about the supply of food in my house,” he bantered.
“So I take it that’s a yes?” Arthur said, pulling out the remaining slices of pizza and placing them on the counter next to Merlin.
Merlin grabbed a cold slice. “I’ll skip the coffee, though.” He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Orange juice?”
“Nope,” Arthur replied, grinning.
Arthur drank coffee - black - with his pizza breakfast then told Merlin he was going to take a quick shower and then drive him home. Merlin seemed content to sit at the counter bar, doodling in his sketch pad, while polishing off the rest of the pizza - with a large glass of cold tap water.
After Arthur had showered and dressed, Merlin used the bathroom to freshen up - which Arthur surmised probably consisted of splashing water onto his face and patting his hair down. Arthur made to tidy up the living room by gathering empty soda cans and collecting the linen from the sofa.
He shook the blanket to fold it, realizing too late that Merlin’s satchel was nestled in it. The bag tipped off the sofa, and some of the contents spilled from it - namely a portfolio folder with some loose sketch sheets that slid out and scattered.
Arthur tossed the blanket down and leaned over to pick up the sheets that had scattered and found himself looking at his own face. Three of the five sheets were drawings of him.
“Did you draw these?” Arthur asked Merlin as he came from the bathroom.
Merlin’s attention was drawn to his spilled satchel and then to the sketches in Arthur’s hand. He cast his eyes down shyly. “Yeah.”
Arthur looked more closely at the drawings. They were magnificent, in spite of the chosen subject matter. Merlin had captured perfectly his crooked smile, the slant of his nose, the arrogant gleam in his eyes, even the stubborn tuft of hair on his right side that refused to behave. Morgana was right - Merlin had talent.
“They’re good,” he said, handing Merlin the sketches. “I don’t know why anyone would want to draw me,” he added light-heartedly, “but they’re good.”
Merlin peeked up from under his eyelashes. “You’re beautiful, Arthur,” he said, a rosy hue settling over his cheekbones. He gave a quick glance up. “I mean, you gotta know that.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say. What did one say to a boy with a crush (or whatever) whom you thought was beautiful but was a little young and totally off-limits (if he valued his life, that is)?
Merlin shoved the sketches and his sketch pad into his bag and grabbed his hoodie on the rack by the door. Clearly, he was ready to go.
Neither of them said anything on the drive to Merlin’s house, though Arthur caught Merlin glancing at him cautiously a few times.
Merlin finally broke the silence when Arthur pulled into his driveway.
“Look, I’m sorry if I freaked you out or made you uncomfortable with the sketches,” he said. “I like to draw you. You have interesting features.”
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him, amused. He had interesting features?
“Like that,” Merlin said, his lips curling into a smile. “You’ve been cocking your eyebrow like that for years. I never get it right - with just that perfect amount of arrogantly amused expressiveness.”
Arthur didn’t know what surprised him more - that Merlin had just used a complex set of phrases that ended in “arrogantly amused expressiveness” or that he had tried to capture said expressiveness before, which meant that he had spent some time drawing Arthur.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said. Merlin slid him a dubious look.
“Okay,” Arthur admitted. “Maybe just a little. But that was before you explained I had interesting features.” He grinned at Merlin.
“Oh, okay then,” Merlin went along. He yanked the truck door open and hopped out with a breezy, “See ya.”
Arthur watched the boy stroll to the side door, unlock it, and let himself in before putting the SUV in gear and driving off.
**
Arthur had taken Merlin to the supermarket to restock some basic groceries. It was one of the ‘duties’ Morgana had assigned him as Merlin’s temporary caregiver. The boy had to remain nourished, she had reminded him yesterday when she had called to check in (up) on him.
He would have expected most teenaged boys like Merlin who were ‘home alone’ to stock up on junk food and goodies, but Merlin responsibly picked fresh fruit and vegetables as well as choice cuts of meat and plenty of fish. And milk, of course.
Merlin grinned as Arthur watched him place the healthy food in the cart. “I can cook as well as do my own laundry,” he told him cheekily. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll cook you dinner one night.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows and watched Merlin saunter up the aisle ahead of him. So the kid could cook, could he? Little Merlin had definitely grown up.
Arthur stopped in the bakery section for some freshly baked scones, letting Merlin continue on ahead toward the check out. He got a half dozen blueberry scones, vowing to share them with Merlin who could easily stand the extra carbohydrates and calories on his lean frame.
He put the paper bag of scones in the cart and wheeled down the next aisle, looking for Merlin. He found him helping a grandmotherly woman by using his height to reach a grocery item on the top shelf for her.
“Thank you, young man,” the elderly lady said to Merlin as Arthur wheeled up to them. Her eyes twinkled at Arthur as she said, “You are very lucky to have made such a good catch.”
A good catch? Arthur nearly sputtered as the woman tottered away, realizing that she obviously thought he and Merlin were a ‘couple’. He saw Merlin’s lips twitch before he turned and kept moving down the aisle.
They checked out the groceries, Merlin using an account Morgana had set up for him for household and personal expenses. Arthur had to admit that Merlin was very responsible when it came to finances. As far as he knew, Merlin hadn’t indulged at all like most young chaps would do if they had the kind of money Merlin did at their disposal.
Arthur paid for the scones separately. Merlin cast a curious glance at the paper bag as he packed up his groceries. Arthur smiled mysteriously, deciding to save the surprise until after they had gotten Merlin’s groceries home and unpacked.
Arthur helped Merlin carry the bags of groceries in and began placing the perishables into the fridge while Merlin stocked the pantry with canned and dry goods.
“I bought some blueberry scones to share with you,” Arthur told Merlin, as he transferred items to the fridge. “You still like blueberries, don’t you? I remember you used to love them when you were a kid.” It was true. He could see a six-year-old cherubic Merlin shoving handfuls of blueberries into his mouth until his cheeks looked like they would burst. Arthur gifted Merlin with a grin at the fond memory in his head.
Merlin assessed him oddly then remarked somewhat dryly, “No wonder Granny at the grocery store thought we were boyfriends.”
Arthur gave him a look that clearly expressed, “yeah, as if” and continued loading the refrigerator. Just because he and Merlin had been engaged in a highly domestic but totally innocent activity (buying groceries) and Arthur was now talking fondly and nostalgically about Merlin’s love of blueberries did not mean nor did it give the impression that the two of them were in any way a ‘couple’.
“Would that be so terrible?” Merlin asked quietly.
Arthur kept his head ducked in the fridge, ostensibly organizing items on the shelf. He really didn’t want to answer that question. He could pretend it was rhetorical, couldn’t he?
Realizing he wasn’t going to get an answer from him, Merlin shuffled his feet then continued placing items in the pantry.
Would it be so terrible if Merlin was his boyfriend? he asked himself. No. Not unless he was particularly attached to his balls - because Morgana would surely separate them from his body if he even entertained the idea.
“Yeah, I still like them,” Merlin mumbled, his head in the pantry. “Thanks.”
**
Merlin made good on his offer to cook dinner for Arthur the next weekend. He set places out for them in the cozy breakfast nook of the Le Fay kitchen, serving chicken parmesan over pasta with Caesar salad and hearty chunks of French bread on the side. He even uncorked a bottle of red wine he insisted Morgana would not miss and poured Arthur a full and himself less than a half glass.
Arthur was impressed. Merlin really could cook and he was a fantastic host. The boy would make a lucky woman very happy one day. He sipped his wine and devoured his meal, complimenting Merlin on his fine culinary skills.
A flush settled on Merlin’s cheekbones and he mumbled something that sounded like “thanks”.
Arthur grinned. Merlin was obviously pleased but embarrassed by his compliment.
“Morgana says you’re talented enough for The Ruskin,” Arthur said, trying to make conversation with the boy.
Merlin looked up from his plate and shrugged. “I’m applying after this year, but probably won’t get in,” he said. “They only take a select few.”
“I’ve only seen some of your work but you’re pretty talented,” Arthur said. He drank from his second glass of wine. “Got anything besides sketches of me you can show me?” he asked, his tone lightly teasing. It was mostly the wine talking, Arthur decided.
The corner of Merlin’s mouth tilted up. “Yeah.”
After they had finished eating, and at Arthur’s insistence, Merlin went up to his room to fetch other samples of his art work. He cleared the dishes from the table, opened a large portfolio and spread an array of sketches out for Arthur to view.
Some were scenery-type sketches with striking bits of colour artfully woven in that caught the eye in a pleasing but also intriguing way. There were sketches of Morgana that were amazing in detail and positively captivating. The most striking sketches, however, were the ones of Vivienne Le Fay. Merlin had captured the very essence of his mother - the softly curled raven hair that she had usually kept pinned up, the pure ivory skin with just a dusting of rose on the cheeks, the kindly green eyes that danced with happiness.
Arthur was particularly taken with the sketch he was now holding - of his Aunt Vivienne walking through a meadow, a young raven-haired girl skipping alongside her and a small boy with high cheekbones close beside her, clasping her hand and smiling. Arthur was not generally prone to sentimentality but this sketch spoke volumes to him and he felt a lump creep up into his throat.
When he was able to swallow the lump down and regain composure, he said to Merlin, “Your mother was truly a beautiful lady.”
Merlin nodded in agreement and Arthur saw the build up of emotion in the boy’s own eyes. He looked away, giving Merlin the courtesy of recomposing himself, and set the sketch of Vivienne and her children down with the others. He gestured at the collection. “These are amazing, Merlin. You are very gifted.”
The boy gathered the sketches and carefully slid them back into the portfolio. “It’s easy when you choose the right subject,” said Merlin, shrugging off the praise. He set the portfolio aside and began clearing the rest of the table.
Arthur gladly helped Merlin rinse then wash and dry the dishes. He tried not to think of the domesticity of it all and how mesmerizing Merlin’s long fingers were as they soaked and washed plates and bowls, sometimes grazing Arthur’s as they passed off rinsed dishes to be towel-dried.
Arthur could feel something building between them, a kind of unspoken connection, a connection that was both intimately new yet comfortably familiar.
Merlin dried his hands on the towel Arthur was holding. He caught Arthur’s eyes with his own blues, his gaze holding such wanton intensity that it made Arthur blush. The boy then settled his sights on Arthur’s mouth. Arthur licked his lips and watched as Merlin’s pupils dilated, betraying his arousal.
Arthur’s mobile suddenly chirped, interrupting the moment, giving him excuse to disengage from the sheer intensity of it. He fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and glanced at the display. It was Morgana. He pushed the button to answer, sliding Merlin an apologetic look that was, for some reason, mixed with ‘slightly guilty’.
“Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Morgana said breezily on the other end. “Like on a date or something.”
He could hear the amused lilt in her voice and knew that she secretly had hoped she had caught him on a date...or something.
“Just here with Merlin actually,” he told her. Merlin cast a curious glance his way and Arthur mouthed ‘Morgana’ at him.
“Oh, really?” Morgana expressed.
“He made me dinner,” Arthur quickly explained, though he was at a loss as to why he felt he had need to.
“Hmm, he is a good cook,” Morgana said. “Anyway, I just called to make sure you haven’t abandoned my baby brother.”
“Of course I haven’t,” Arthur said. “Besides, you call to check up on me every two days.” He thought he saw Merlin’s mouth twitch.
“And you’re getting on fantastically, I see,” Morgana said. “Remember, Arthur - puppy.”
Arthur could practically hear the sarcastic humour in her voice and almost ended the call on that merit.
Morgana laughed on her end and said, “Tell Merlin I love him and that I’ll call him later. Toodles.”
Now he pushed “end call” and shoved his mobile back into his pocket.
“Morgana says she’ll call you later,” Arthur told Merlin. He found himself swallowing before adding, “And she loves you.” Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
“Does she really call you every couple days to check up on you?” Merlin asked, looking somewhat sympathetic.
Arthur nodded miserably and, damn it all, the boy grinned.
As he lay in bed later that night, Arthur thought about the moment he had shared with Merlin at the sink. What had that been exactly? Obviously, Merlin had a crush on him. A very deep, intense crush that certainly involved fantasies about kissing him. Because Merlin had been thinking of kissing him, hadn’t he? Arthur didn’t think he had read that wrong.
And what if Merlin had kissed him? Surely, Arthur would have resisted the advance, while letting the boy down easy. But if that would have been the case, then why had Arthur felt so guilty when Morgana had called - as though he had been about to do something he had known he shouldn’t.
He turned on his side and tried to sleep, visions of Merlin's soft pink lips and wanting blue eyes haunting his sleep.
PART TWO