What You Mean to Me (Right Now) Part Three

[wanderingfic]

“Why the epic scowl?” Morgana asks a few weeks later when Arthur joins a crowd of friends waiting to be seated for brunch. “It’s a beautiful day, for London, and we’re all gathered together, what could be bad?”

“Princess is sad because Merlin went home to take his mother to church for Easter,” Gwaine says, and while his voice is mocking, Arthur notices that he has his hand tucked into Leon’s back pocket.

“Aww, Arthur,” Morgana coos and reaches over to pinch his cheek. “Everybody wants a boy who takes care of his mum.”

Arthur wants to swear at Morgana, but there are families with small children running around as they wait for their own tables, and even he isn’t that rude, never mind that he can’t believe the things that are coming out of some of their small mouths.

“I’d get mad at Merlin for dragging you away from everyone if you were a normal couple,” Morgana says, “but I’ve seen you more in the last month than I did in the previous six.”

Arthur scowls, again, but he knows it’s true. He and Merlin have joined their friends for all sorts of pub quizzes and crawls, wine tastings, experimental art shows, and, on one memorable instance, they had shown up at the Tube station where Morgana had said to meet them only to be caught in the middle of a flash mob full of dancers- including Leon and Gwaine.

Arthur would use the term whirlwind romance, he thinks, if only he were a girl. But he’s not so he pretends he doesn’t notice that he’s spent nearly every evening with Merlin over the last few weeks, sometimes with their friends, but more often than not, at Arthur’s flat where Arthur cooks them dinner and then cajoles and bullies Merlin into trying new foods.

He’s only been to Merlin’s flat once in the past month. He was surprised at how tiny it was, with a small kitchenette and only one bedroom, but Merlin just shrugged the questions off when Arthur had asked.

“I don’t need a lot of space for just me, and since I’m usually just here to sleep-” he’d glanced up through his eyelashes at Arthur then, making Arthur’s heart thrum at the thought of the other activities Merlin took care of before he went to sleep,“it fits me.”

Arthur knows he’s been just like a teenager again, surprising himself more than he’d care to admit. He’s felt sparks of attraction for men in the years since his accident, but he always smothered them before they were allowed to ignite. He hadn’t thought he could feel this much desire again.

Arthur knows that he therapist he had been required to see right after his accident would have something to say about Arthur not sleeping with Merlin yet, and not only that, but Arthur hasn’t yet been able to bring himself to snog Merlin on a horizontal surface. He’s always managed to maneuver it so that they’re standing up, and while they’ve managed quite a bit of ass grabbing, and Merlin hasn’t pushed him to go further, Arthur knows he must be getting frustrated.

He starts out of the fantasy he shouldn’t be having on the middle of a London street when Elena starts talking. He hadn’t even notice she and Percival had joined their crowd.

“You have that schmoopy look on your face again. And you’re normally the first to protest if we have to wait for more than twenty minutes, so you must be thinking about Merlin.”

He doesn’t make a face at Elena, only because she’s the most genuine person he knows, and she’s not taking the piss. Her face is thoughtful and kind, her eyes crinkling up in the smile he’s known for years. Leon and Gwaine, on the other hand, think it’s hilarious and clutch at each other as the maitre’d leads them to their table.

“You really do look a little love sick,” Morgana whispers to him as they pull out their chairs and take their seats. “It’s a little bit disgusting, but I also think it’s kind of sweet. Just don’t ever tell anyone I said that.”

“I would never dare,” Arthur says and smiles as she squeezes his arm.

They’re halfway through brunch and Morgana’s explanation of her friend’s experimental art show when Arthur feels his mobile buzz in his jacket pocket. He sneaks it out for a quick look while everyone is listening to Morgana expound on the meaning of the pieces. Arthur saw the show and he didn’t understand the meaning then so he doesn’t think she’ll mind if he checks his messages.

What disgusting thing are you eating for brunch?

Arthur smiles and types back: Quinoa porridge. And shouldn’t you be in church right now?

“The leather and chains Morgause and Cendred used represented the male dominance exhibited by our patriarchal society,” Morgana is saying when Arthur rejoins the conversation. “That’s why she used them to bind him.”

“And not in a good way,” Leon says. “In a creepy way. I thought I should point that out for those who weren’t there.”

“You know, I used to like you,” Morgana tells him. “You were much more amenable when you were dating Arthur.”

“I used to want you to like me for Arthur’s sake. Now you’ve known me long enough that you’re stuck with me.” Everyone laughs when Morgana sticks her tongue out at Leon. “And perhaps Gwaine’s been something of a bad influence on me.”

The service just ended. Waiting to shake hands with the priest, but I’m trying to avoid that. What’s wrong with regular porridge?”

“Stop sexting Merlin,” Percival says, interrupting Morgana and Leon’s friendly bickering. “Elena’s right. You do have a schmoopy look on your face.”

“Where are Gwen and Lance today?” Arthur asks, trying to change the subject. If he can get the conversation away from himself, he can text Merlin back in peace. “They normally join us for brunch.”

“They went with Elyan and Vivian up to see Tom,” Elena says. She takes a sip of her tea and smiles when Percival squeezes her shoulder.

“Tom?” Gwaine asks, and Arthur is reminded that he hasn’t always been friends with the rest of them. It drives him just the littlest bit crazy how well Gwaine adapted to their fold, though he knows Gwaine and Lance had had a casual friendship before he and Leon started dating.

“Elyan and Gwen’s dad,” Leon explains. “He had a heart attack a couple of years ago and hasn’t been in great health since.”

Arthur’s trying to text Merlin under the tablecloth when he hears that. He hadn’t known about Tom and he’s kind of surprised that Leon does. He’s always liked Gwen and Elyan’s dad, and it shocks him to know that he’s been in poor health. It’s just another reminder of the way he’s isolated himself in the last few years. He sighs as he sends the message, and Morgana shoots him a curious glance, but for once keeps her opinions to herself.

Quinoa is good for you. You should try it. Why don’t you want to meet the priest?

He hesitates before sending one last message. What time do you get in tonight?

Merlin’s answers do not come until after they’ve finished eating and have settled the bill.

He’s creepy. is the first message Arthur opens, after he’s waved goodbye to Elena and Percival. His pocket vibrates again while he’s kissing Morgana’s cheek.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” she says, catching his hand and squeezing it before having Leon and Gwaine escort her to the nearest Tube station while Arthur climbs into his car. He opens the message and sighs at the one word there.

Late.

Which is why he’s surprised when there’s a knock on his door that night at half-past ten, followed by an insistent pressing on the buzzer outside his door. He lives in a building with a doorman so that he doesn’t have to deal with drunken idiots at all hours of the night, so they don’t have to see him stumble about and make idiot comments that, to drunk people, sound hilarious. The buzzing doesn’t stop, though, so he throws open the door to chew a new arsehole for whichever one of his neighbors managed to get pissed and forget where they live, only to see Merlin standing in his doorway, looking weary.

“Why are you&ndash How’d you get in here?” Arthur asks, because he’s not really sure what else he’s supposed to say. Merlin sighs and picks up an overnight bag from the floor of the hall.

“I didn’t feel like going home. I wanted to see you. The doorman waved me right on up. Which answer would you prefer?”

“That you wanted to see me of course,” Arthur says,and doesn’t push why Merlin doesn’t feel like going back to his own flat. “Come in. Are you hungry? How’s your mum?”

Merlin follows Arthur into the kitchen, setting his bag down on the floor next to the island and then leaning against it, putting his head in his hands. “Do you have a beer?”

“Hey,” Arthur says and tugs at Merlin’s arms until Merlin is burying his face into Arthur’s neck instead. “A trip home shouldn’t be this much of a stressor. What’s wrong?”

Merlin doesn’t say anything for several moments, just holds on to Arthur, his arm tightening around Arthur’s back for a long second before letting go.

“My mum’s fine,” Merlin says, not meeting Arthur’s eye. He lifts a hand and scrubs at his face then gives Arthur a tight smile. “She wanted to hear all about you, actually.”

“Yeah?” Arthur wants to press harder, to find out what’s going on, but he doesn’t. God only knows that he clams up when someone presses him to talk about something he’s not ready for. “What did you tell her?”

“That you’ve accomplished what she couldn’t and managed to get me to try at least one new food a week. She said that you sounded lovely and to tell you thank you for making sure that I don’t die of scurvy.”

Arthur laughs and leans back against the island. “She did not.”

“Those were her exact words. Then she wanted to know what I was giggling about.”

“Did you tell her?”

“About the questionable beginning to our romance in a gay dance club where I became a jealous arse over one man flirting with you? No.” He smiles, looking more relaxed, and Arthur takes his hand and squeezes it. “I just told her that you’d said the same thing. She’s now of the opinion that the two of you will get along splendidly. You said something about food?”

The glance Merlin gives him is hopeful, but there’s a lingering sadness in his eyes that Arthur doesn’t know how to deal with, so he pulls Merlin to him and presses their lips together.

“In a minute,” he says, when Merlin pulls away to shift their positions to something a little bit more comfortable, “but you need to give me a proper hello first.”

After Arthur proclaims their snog to have been proper enough for a hello, Merlin hops up to sit on the island and watches as Arthur prepares a grown up version of toasted cheese. He’s silent while Arthur slices a baguette and layers prosciutto and mozzarella on the top, but when Arthur puts the pan into the stovetop broiler, Merlin slides down off the counter and slips his arms around Arthur’s waist, pressing his lips to Arthur’s neck. Arthur slides his hand across Merlin’s arm and squeezes it.

“I have to keep an eye on this,” he warns. “I don’t want my flat to smell of burnt cheese for a week.”

“Thank you,” Merlin mutters into his neck. “It’s nice to be taken care of every once in a while.”

“I’m happy to.”

Arthur squeezes Merlin’s arm once more before untangling himself to pull the pan out of the broiler.

Merlin gets the beer from the icebox while Arthur puts their snack on a plate, and they sit close on the sofa, eating and drinking and pretending to watch the episode of Being Human that Arthur recorded. But really, Arthur watches Merlin.

"I was wondering," Merlin says after the second time he's drifted off and woken with a start when he is head dropped forward suddenly, "can I stay here tonight? I really don't think I'm awake enough to walk home."

Arthur stiffens. It's not that he wasn't thinking about it anyway, what it would be like for he and Merlin to curl together on his sofa every night like this, if they were to share a kitchen and a loo and a life, but in every vision he has, he pictures himself the way he was four years ago. He pictures himself whole.

Merlin senses his discomfort. "I can stay on the couch or in the guestroom if you think I'll get too handsy in my sleep. I know you're still not comfortable with us getting too physical, and I respect that."

"No," Arthur says. "I want that. I just, I can't-"

"It's okay," Merlin says and strokes the side of Arthur's face. "This is going to sound like a cheesy Sunday school line, but I think you're worth waiting for. I can get a cab."

"I don't think you're trying to pressure me." Arthur takes a deep breath. "But I don't want you to get scared off, either. I don't- I only have one foot to tangle with yours in the morning. I take twenty extra minutes to go anywhere because I have to deal with this. And it's still very scarred. My leg, I mean."

"Is that all you were worried about?" Merlin has stopped stroking Arthur's face but keeps his hand there, and Arthur leans into the touch. "I'm not going to run screaming from you, Arthur. It's not like this is a surprise. You don't have to hide from me."

"I'm not hiding," Arthur says, even though he is. He takes a deep breath then presses a quick kiss to Merlin's lips. "Let's go to sleep."

He leaves Merlin to the guest loo to get ready for bed and goes into his own en suite. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it. Arthur takes three deep breaths and then begins to go about his normal routine for the evening, cleaning his teeth and taking a piss before undoing the belt that keeps his prosthesis attached. He finishes his routine by pulling open the drawer he keeps his night clothes in.

Normally he ignores the drawer altogether, choosing instead to sleep naked. On the off chance he does catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he'd rather see what's left of his leg than a pair of pyjama pants pinned up just under his knee, but Merlin might not appreciate the same sentiments, even in a pair of boxers. He tugs on a pair of pyjama pants that Morgana gave him and had the leg sewn up on and decides to forgo a shirt. He takes one more deep breath, grabs the cane he uses in the evenings to get around the house, and turns the door knob.

Merlin is already in Arthur's room, standing in the doorway looking awkward and out of place, with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

"I wasn't sure which side of the bed was yours." He gives Arthur a small smile. "I didn't want to be presumptive."

"I sleep on the left." Arthur's mouth feels a little dry at the sight of Merlin in just boxer shorts and a thin white tee shirt.

"Oh. Okay." Merlin swallows hard and Arthur can see his Adam's apple bob. Merlin's eyes, however, linger on Arthur's chest. "Wait. Which left?"

"When you're in the bed. See my stuff on the bedside table over there?"

"Right," Merlin says, and Arthur watches as a blush creeps up his throat and spreads across his cheekbones. "The only thing I was paying attention to was how good you look in those jammies. I'm probably definitely going to get handsy now."

Arthur closes the space between them then, using his cane to take larger steps than he normally would. He nearly barrels Merlin over, who catches him with a smile and presses his lips to Arthur's.

Merlin spoons up against him once they've finally climbed into bed, and Arthur can feel the results of their snog pressed right up against his bum. Merlin doesn't say anything, doesn't rut against him or reach into Arthur's pyjamas to help ease his own ache, even though a part of Arthur desperately wants him to. What he does do, however, surprises Arthur so much that he has to struggle not to cry.

Merlin kisses at Arthur's neck while he slides his hand along Arthur's chest. Arthur's sure he's going to stop at his waist and mutters a noise of protest when that hand keeps moving down his thigh. Before Arthur can quite process what's happening, he's given into Merlin's tugging and finds himself with his right leg tucked between Merlin's.

"I don't mind not being able to tangle our feet together, but I'd hate to miss out on the feeling of your thigh between mine when there's no reason I can't."

**********

They lie-in the next morning. Since it’s a bank holiday, Arthur doesn’t have to go into the office, and Merlin, who Arthur discovers with glee is like a grumpy kitten when he wakes, admits that he hadn’t planned to return to London until today.

“Then why?” Arthur begins but stops when he sees Merlin’s frown. They’re lying in bed, facing each other now. Arthur had woken up earlier in the morning, long before Merlin had, to clean his teeth and take care of his morning erection. He’s a little ashamed that he rubbed one off in the loo while a willing Merlin slept in the next room, but he’s not quite ready for that yet. He’d considered running out to get them breakfast or even starting something in the kitchen, but when he returned to his room and saw Merlin spread out in his bed like he belonged there, he’d dropped the idea. He didn’t want Merlin to think he was running away. So he’d pulled out his iPhone and played NotScrabble with Morgana until Merlin woke up.

It was an interesting process. After Arthur returned to the bed, Merlin had managed to shift to the far side of the bed in a series of acrobatic twists that had Arthur burying his face in his shoulder to keep from waking Merlin with his laughter. At one point, Merlin was stretched diagonally across the bed, his toes bumping Arthur’s ankle and one arm resting on the other nightstand. He managed to nearly fall off the bed before he finally woke up, and he’d looked up at Arthur with such confusion that Arthur could no longer hide his laughter. Merlin had made a face at him before excusing himself to use the toilet. And if he'd spent a little extra time in there, well, Arthur wasn't going to say anything.

"Don't you go anywhere," Merlin had said when he'd come out of the loo to find Arthur reaching for his cane. "Let's have a lazy day in bed. Isn't that what bank holidays are for?"

"You'll get hungry eventually," Arthur says. "Don't forget, I've seen you eat."

"Eventually. But if we leave the flat, we'll have to put up with Gwaine and Leon wanting us to go to the cinema or Gwen trying to foist Lance off on us for the afternoon because he's getting on her nerves."

"They don't do that. They have to spend every moment they're not at work together otherwise they're miserable. It's quite disgusting, honestly."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that." Merlin takes Arthur's hand and tugs him to lie back down on the bed. "They're too perfect. It's unnatural."

"Are we going to spend the morning in bed judging our friends?"

Merlin gives him a lazy grin. "Maybe. It's entertaining. Did you know that Gwaine is scared of spiders?"

"Am I supposed to judge him for that?" Arthur hesitates then reaches out a hand and places it on Merlin's chest. He tells himself that his heart doesn't jump when Merlin covers it with his own, but he knows he's lying.

"No, but it's good knowledge to have in case you ever need to get back at him for something." Merlin gets a wicked glint in his eye. "Tell him there's a spider in his hair and he'll squeal. Will used to do that to him all the time, but then again, he hated Gwaine."

"Will?"

Arthur doesn't know how to describe the look that passes across Merlin's face at that. The smile stays but dampens by degrees. He squeezes the hand Arthur's laid across his chest and with his left hand he starts to rub at the ring he always wears on his right. Arthur can feel the metal of it against his skin, starting to warm where their hands are pressed together.

"Will was my first love," Merlin says, and it sounds as if his voice is coming from somewhere far away, further, even, than when he was sending the text messages from his home town. "We were best friends growing up. We started dating when we were fifteen. For a long time, I thought he was going to be my one and only. I know everyone thinks that about their first."

"Or other people make them think that," Arthur says. "Elena and I dated for a while when we were fifteen, and our fathers thought we were made for one another. So, what happened?"

"He followed me to London and worked while I went to uni. He wasn't the most outgoing person in the world and didn't love it when I made friends from my classes, but you know Gwaine, he'll talk to anyone, so he eventually won Will over."

"The bastard does have that ability, yes."

Merlin continues to run his fingers lightly over the tops of Arthur's. "Will and I lived in the only flat we could afford and tried to make do, yeah? We were twenty-two and I'd just finished my last year of training with Gaius when we had the idea to be married. Civilly-partnered, whatever. We just thought we'd always be together. So we bought a new flat because the money I was making was more than either of us had ever seen, growing up like we did, and once we moved in, we invited Gwaine and Gaius and my mum and Will's mum over to celebrate the new flat. Surprised them all, except my friend Freya, who had become a registrar just to be able to marry us. She stood with us in the kitchen, while everyone else watched from over the breakfast bar. Barely had enough room for everyone, then we all went to the closest pub and ate and drank ourselves silly."

"I guess forever wasn't forever, though, was it?" Arthur asks, wary, ready to pull Merlin out of the nostalgia he's lost himself in. "Not if you're here with me."

Merlin takes a deep breath, then another, and another, and Arthur wonders for a moment if he hasn't fallen asleep. It is warm in Arthur's bedroom, with the late morning sunshine having fought off the fog to try and filter through Arthur's curtain. Arthur's been watching the place where their hands are tangled together, and when he glances at Merlin's face, his eyes are closed and a frown tugs at the corners of the mouth Arthur finds so intriguing. Arthur jumps when Merlin starts to speak again.

"Forever ended seven years ago." His hand tightens around Arthur's like a vise. "Will used to run some prescription deliveries for Gaius and me to earn a few extra pounds each week. Then one night Mrs. Odin called us, this little eighty-seven year old lady, who said she hadn't seen the delivery person and she wanted to go to bed soon. I'd sent Will out only a half-hour before, so I wasn't worried, just irritated that he might have stopped before he dropped off the little old lady's medicine."

"Oh." Arthur kisses Merlin's shoulder, seeing it all play out in his head. Merlin, not concerned at first, puttering around the shop waiting on Will to get back so they could go home, start their evening; checking his watch and becoming more agitated the longer he waited; the moment when he realised something was wrong. "Oh, Merlin. No."

Merlin swallows hard, but Arthur is impressed at his ability to continue this story. Arthur knows he couldn't. It had been hard enough when he'd been interviewed by the insurance adjusters in the weeks after his accident to disattach from what had happened, and that was the only time he'd ever sat down and explained what happened that night. This, Arthur thought, Merlin had told before. Not often, but enough over the last seven years that it was whittled down to the details, void of the emotions Merlin doesn't bother to hide when he speaks about everything else.

"I tried texting him to see where he was, and after he didn't answer that, I started calling. That's when one of the policemen came by the shop, told me he'd been mugged, that someone had seen him carrying a bag from our place, he was right around the corner from Mrs. Odin. From what the witnesses could tell, he'd mouthed off to some kids that were in his way- and god, Arthur, the one who stabbed him was only fourteen, a boy- so they'd flown into a rage. They stabbed him, kicked him, then stole his wallet and phone and the patient's medicine."

Merlin lets out a bitter laugh and Arthur doesn't know what to do. He settles for stroking Merlin's hair with one hand and holding onto him as tightly as he can with the other.

"The worst part of it," Merlin continues, "the worst part of it all is that he was delivering that old woman's blood pressure pills. Those kids weren't going to get a pound on the streets for what they killed him for. His phone was a piece of shit and he only ever had about twenty quid in his wallet at any given time and no debit card. He didn't trust banks not to give everyone his information. We had a safe in the flat where he kept cash, and he only ever got into it if we were making a big purchase. I paid all the bills out of my checking, he would give me the money."

Arthur tries to think of something, anything, to say, but all he manages to do is stumble over his words. He used to be better, not with feelings, but at least with words. He thinks sometimes that he lost his ability to string together a sentence when he pushed everyone away. He's not sure which is the cause and which is the effect.

"I don't-" Arthur tries, but the words ring hollow to him. "I'm not good at talking about emotions."

Merlin's laugh is different from his last, less bitter, no hint of the maliciousness from earlier, and he squeezes Arthur's hand again, so hard that Arthur thinks his fingers might break. "I never would have guessed."

"Just let me get this out, yeah?" Arthur softens his words by mouthing along Merlin's jaw. "I am sorry about Will. I don't know if I would have been able to keep going if I'd lost someone like that."

"Gwaine was a big help in that. And Gaius. And my mum- she came up to see me a couple of months after the funeral and threw open my curtains and cleaned my flat and practically frog-marched me into the shower. Then she wouldn't leave London until I promised I'd at least make an effort to do something besides work every once in a while."

"Sounds like a good lady."

"She is. And she knows a thing or two about grief. And she was right. I did have to leave my flat every once in a while. I took her advice to the extreme, to the point that I was almost never there, going out all the time, drinking till I had to stay at friends' places- that's how I met Lance and Gwen- I crashed on their guest bed one night after Gwaine had brought me to a party at theirs. Lance was celebrating a promotion or something, and Gwaine knew him in some sort of roundabout way from work."

"Leon and I didn't go to that party because we were in France," Arthur remembers. "We were celebrating him finishing his PhD. He kept wanting to go out in the countryside to see battlefield monuments, and I wanted to stay in and celebrate more, but he was so excited about being there I couldn't tell him no."

"I might have enjoyed history courses more if I'd had a lecturer like him," Merlin says. "All of mine looked like they belonged in a museum. I guess we would have met sooner had you two decided not to dick around in France, but neither of you would have liked me back then. I slowed down after a woman I didn't know demanded I sleep in her spare room because she was worried I'd kill myself trying to get home."

"Sounds just like Gwen. Frightening, isn't she?"

"Absolutely. The next morning she wrung the story out of me, dried me out and fed me eggs and rashers and enough fried bread to soak up the mother of all hangovers. She called a couple of people and settled me into a grief counselling group that day,then found out how close we worked together and promised to send as many of her patients my way as she could."

"And then there was that fateful day she sent me your way," Arthur says. "I wonder why she didn't do it sooner."

"I've only known you a few months, Arthur, but I know that you hate to change your routine. I'm sure she only did it because you looked so miserable that day you came into my store."

Arthur can feel his hand clench around Merlin's. "Routine is- I have to follow my routines, for my own health."

"I respect that. I'm not belittling it, but it's nothing to do with your health that says you have to get your tea from the exact same shop every morning."

"If it means that I don't have to stand in a line any longer than necessary, then yes, it does." Arthur tries to pull away, but Merlin doesn't let him, only holds him close and hums.

"I'll give you that," he says and presses a kiss to Arthur's temple. "I'm just glad that she did send you off your routine for a single day. I'm glad that you let me in last night and didn't make me face going back to mine and Will's flat after a weekend of seeing his ghost everywhere I went."

"Your and Will's old flat? Jesus, Merlin. No wonder you didn't want to go home."

"It's okay, normally," Merlin says. "I've made my peace with things and I've made a lot of memories in that flat since, but I didn't think I could deal with it last night. Last time I went home, I ended up crashing at Gwaine's for a week afterward."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you want," Arthur says before he knows what he's saying. Merlin gives him a soft smile.

"I appreciate that," he says,and kisses Arthur's temple again. "But you'll have to let me pay you rent. In blow jobs, maybe?"

"Is that how you pay Gwaine? Because if so, I take back my offer."

"No, not quite." Merlin's tone is wry. "Is it morbid to offer blow jobs after a conversation about your dead partner? It feels like it should be."

"A little bit, but I have no intention of collecting on your offer right now."

"Oh thank god. Please excuse my pillow talk. It's terrible."

Arthur wants to see what Merlin is like for real, when he's blissed out after an orgasm and trying to formulate thoughts that he wants to share with Arthur. Or that he doesn't. Arthur realises he wants to hear the secrets that Merlin keeps, that he whispers in a haze of lust after he's come.

But now is not the time.

"We'll figure out a payment schedule later," he says and reaches down to pull the sheets back over them, "but for now, let's sleep. All this emotion wears me out."

**********

Merlin does make good on his promise two weeks or so later, pressing Arthur back into the door of the icebox and dropping to his knees. Arthur clings to the handle of the icebox with one hand and twines the other in Merlin's hair, and when Merlin very carefully pulls Arthur's dick out of his trousers and rolls a condom down it, Arthur's head hits the door with a thunk.

"Where did you get that?" Arthur asks. Merlin quirks his eyebrows.

"Guess I never told you I was in the Scouts when I was young. Wasn't much to do in Ealdor, so by consequence, I'm always prepared."

"Good- ah- good to know."

**********

Arthur opens the door to his flat, holding a bottle of balsamic vinegar that Merlin narrows his eyes at.

"What are you planning to do with that?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Merlin makes a face then turns to shut the door before shrugging off his jacket. "I'd rather not. I've found out that I like the food you fix much more if I don't have the opportunity to worry about what's coming up."

"If that's the case, you should just go ahead and pick out a film for tonight and let me at the kitchen."

"Brought up your mail," Merlin says. "Maybe I'm getting a little too well known if they don't think I'm some sort of stranger down at the front desk when I ask for it."

"No, they know that I never remember. I pay all my bills online so the most I ever get is junk."

"This doesn't look like junk." Merlin holds up a large, cream-coloured envelope with Mr. Arthur Pendragon written on the front in carefully scripted calligraphy. Arthur drops the tongs he's using to stir the noodles with back into the pot and wipes his hands on the kitchen towel hanging from the stove.

"Please," he says when Merlin holds the envelope behind his back, looking at Arthur with eyes narrowed.

"Only because I'm curious to see what caused that kind of reaction," Merlin says and hands the envelope to Arthur. Arthur opens it with shaking fingers while Merlin slips around behind him and turns off the burner, then wraps his arms around Arthur's waist. He hooks his chin over Arthur's shoulder to see what's going on.

"Lance and Gwen married when were still in university," Arthur says as he pulls out a heavy, linen-brushed invitation. "We all thought they were insane. They didn't have a pound to their names, and Elena always swore that she was going to wait until she was financially independent and she wasn't going to marry the first man who proposed to her."

"How long had she and Percival been dating by then?" Merlin asks, his breath hot at the skin beneath Arthur's ear. "That sounds like something she would manage to completely fuck up."

"About a year. So fast-forward six years, and they're still together. Percy's trying to figure out a way to ask her for months, so he texts me and asks if I remember Elena saying that about not marrying the first man to ask her. He wanted to make sure that it wasn't something our hive mind came up with."

"Do you all do that sort of thing?" Merlin kisses the back of Arthur's neck. "I hadn't noticed that the story about Morgana staring down a cougar was totally made up."

"She really did that." Arthur hisses a little when Merlin bites at the skin of his neck and turns in Merlin's arms to face him. "But the cougar was at a zoo. And lazy because it had just been fed, but that's not the point."

"What is the point?" More kissing below Arthur's ear, and it makes him swallow hard and almost lose his train of thought entirely.

"The point," Arthur manages to gasp out, "is that Percival paid one of the stable hands at her father's estate to get down on one knee with some crap story about how he'd admired her from afar for years and how he felt like this was his only chance to make his feelings known. Then, when Elena was blushing and stammering on about how she was flattered, Percival took her for a ride to where he'd asked one of their cooks to set up a picnic for her, and he really did propose to her out there and reminded her what she'd said all those years ago."

"That's-" Merlin stops his kissing and leans back to look at Arthur. "That's a stroke of genius, actually."

"Isn't it?" Arthur asks. He pulls at Merlin's hands where they're moving up and down his chest. "Speaking of stroking, I'm never going to finish dinner if you keep doing that."

"Mhmm," Merlin says as his fingers move to Arthur's buttons. "I don't mind waiting if you don't."

Arthur takes a deep breath. He takes Merlin's face in his hands and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "I don't mind. It's all I've been able to think about the last few weeks. That other night on the sofa-"

"You mean when we rutted together like teenagers?" Merlin's hands are now down the back of Arthur's trousers, kneading and squeezing. "When it was so hot but still not enough?"

"Yeah." Arthur swallows hard when Merlin runs a finger between his cheeks. "Just, I think-"

"Arthur," Merlin says and starts to pull his hands out from below Arthur's waistband. "If you're still thinking, then maybe we need to keep waiting."

Merlin's body betrays his words. He hasn't stepped away from Arthur, and while he's settled his hands on Arthur's hips, it hasn't stopped him from stroking the bare skin where Arthur's shirt has come untucked.

"I was going to say that I think you should fuck me, but if you're not okay with that, then I guess we can still wait."

He twists out of Merlin's grip and starts for the bedroom. He glances over his shoulder to see Merlin looking shell-shocked for a moment before running the few steps to catch up with him.

"I only want to do what you're comfortable with," Merlin says when he pushes Arthur's shirt off his shoulders and reaches behind his neck to pull his own tee off over his head. "You have to talk to me."

"Always with the words and feelings," Arthur teases. He dips his head and kisses along Merlin's collarbone then stretches down further to lick at a nipple. Merlin's hands twist in Arthur's hair and he pulls Arthur away with a gentle tug. Arthur gives him an exasperated look. "I'm not the fragile flower everyone takes me for, you know."

"I'm serious, Arthur." Merlin runs his hands along the belt that sits at Arthur's waist, flush against his skin, and Arthur shivers. "I don't want to do something that's going to offend you and have you not talk to me for weeks on end."

"I don't think I could manage to do without you for that long," Arthur says as he unfastens the button of Merlin's jeans. He pushes the fabric down until Merlin is left only in his boxer shorts. Arthur's not sure when Merlin lost his shoes, but he's pretty certain one of them will trip over them later.

"Can you wait for just a few more minutes?" Arthur asks. "I need to-"

He gestures down at his leg and Merlin nods. He presses a brief kiss to Arthur's lips then throws himself down onto Arthur's bed. He props his head up on one arm and smiles at Arthur, one hand stroking lazily at the tent in his boxer shorts.

"Do what you need to do," Merlin says, "but don't make me wait too long. I might take matters into my own hands."

"Some other time I'd be happy to see what that looks like, but tonight I'd prefer if you would wait for me."

Merlin sits up and slides his hands over Arthur's hips. He holds him closes as he kisses the skin at Arthur's navel, right above the buckle of the belt that keeps Arthur's prosthesis attached.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he says with a wink at Arthur, "but since you asked so nicely, I promise I can wait."

"It has an effect on my boner when you quote Harry Potter at me," Arthur calls as he takes off his shoes and tugs off his trousers and boxers in his en suite. He unbuckles the belt for his prosthesis and undoes the latches at the side, detaching his leg as quickly as possible. In the other room, he can hear Merlin shifting on the bed.

"Makes you horny, doesn't it?" Merlin calls back. "It's because you have a thing for skinny, dark haired men who are full of magic. Don't deny it."

"You're full of something."

Arthur decides to forgo putting his boxer shorts back on and steps out of the en suite, leaning against his cane. Merlin's lying on his back in the middle of the bed, and he props up on his elbows to watch Arthur cross the room. Arthur watches Merlin's face as Merlin runs his eyes down Arthur's body.

Arthur doesn't know what he's expecting, but Merlin's expression doesn't change as his eyes reach the place where Arthur's leg should be. He just takes it in and allows his gaze to travel back up and land on Arthur's erect cock. Merlin quirks a smile, and lifts his hips off the mattress, tugging his own boxer shorts down. He then brings his eyes back to Arthur's and spreads his arms.

"Well?" he asks. "What are you waiting for?"

Arthur's really not sure how he makes it to the bed, he just knows that he ends up in Merlin's arms, pressed against all that warm skin, being kissed and touched and stroked. Merlin kisses his mouth hard enough to bruise, clutches at him with strong fingers until Arthur's sure he's going to leave marks. Merlin is not shy about running his hands over the scarred places on Arthur's flesh, and the first time he lowers his head to lick along Arthur's right kneecap, Arthur thrashes against the bed in surprise and pleasure.

"There's lube and condoms in the bedside table," Arthur manages to say as Merlin noses at Arthur's balls. Arthur's legs are spread impossibly wide, and he knows he's not going to last, not when Merlin hasn't been anywhere near his hole and he's already so close to begging.

"Nah," Merlin says and reaches under the pillow behind Arthur's head. "I moved them."

He pulls out a foil strip of condoms and the tube of lube Arthur normally keeps in his bedside drawer. Arthur throws his head back and laughs.

"You're such a snoop. Getting my mail, going through my drawer. What else did you find in there?" His laughter turns into a moan when Merlin rips open one of the condoms and places it in his mouth, then proceeds to roll it down Arthur's dick without using his hands.

"That's a useful trick," Arthur says when he can find his voice again.

Merlin doesn't answer, just licks the underside of Arthur's cock, making Arthur moan and thrust his hips upward. Merlin swirls his tongue around the head then puts his head down and swallows Arthur to the root. Arthur swears, clutching at Merlin's hair.

"I'm not going to be able to last until you're inside me."

Merlin pulls off Arthur's dick and grins up at him. "I don't want you to. You're so damn tense, Arthur. I've never seen somebody who needs an orgasm as badly as you do."

Arthur knows he should be insulted by this, but Merlin's mouthing at his balls now, teasing the loose skin with his tongue. Arthur's propped up on his elbows, watching as Merlin multitasks, sucking one of Arthur's bollocks into his mouth while opening up the lube and slicking up his fingers. He kisses the dip where Arthur's thigh joins his pelvis before taking Arthur's erection into his mouth again. He slides a finger between Arthur's arse cheeks and starts to circle at Arthur's hole, teasing a wet finger at his entrance, counterpoint to the movement of his mouth.

It embarrasses Arthur a little how quickly he comes. Merlin just grins then presses a kiss to the sensitive underside of Arthur's softening cock.

"Take care of that, will you?" Merlin asks. He nods at Arthur's dick, and it takes Arthur a minute or two to realise that Merlin's talking about the condom. Arthur's still in a daze as he slides it off and ties the end, and he's not sure which direction he chucks it in. He's not even sure he's in the proper direction on the bed, he's so disoriented. All he knows is that Merlin's fingers are pumping in and out of him, twisting and stretching, everything Arthur has tried to tell himself he didn't need.

Everything he's wanted since he first walked into the apothecary that day in March.

"Merlin," Arthur says, unsurprised to find that his voice is a high-pitched whine. He's beginning to harden again, already, so fast it almost hurts, but Merlin has three fingers inside him, brushing over Arthur's prostate on every third or fourth stroke. "Merlin, please."

"Right," Merlin says and pulls his fingers out of Arthur in a slow slide. Arthur misses them as soon as they're gone. Merlin's fingers are slippery as he tries to open the condom, and he giggles at his difficulty. Arthur would tease him for it, but he just wants Merlin inside of him, and now.

He sits up and curls a hand around Merlin's head, pulls him in for a long kiss, and while Merlin lets out a groan of pleasure Arthur plucks the strip of condoms from his hand and opens one from the other end, where Merlin hasn't been able to make the package so slick.

"I'm usually more coordinated than this," Merlin says. He rests his forehead against Arthur's and they both watch as Arthur rolls the condom down Merlin's cock.

"Right," Arthur says and steals another kiss. "Not sure I believe you, actually."

Merlin presses Arthur back against the bed and kisses him, their dicks rubbing together as Merlin reaches down and slides a finger back into Arthur.

"If you don't put your dick in me soon," Arthur says, but Merlin laughs at his empty threat. He licks at Arthur's Adam's apple then sits up on his knees and haul's Arthur's hips up onto his thighs. Arthur can feel his hole clench as the head of Merlin's cock brushes over it. Arthur's greedy for it, needs to feel Merlin inside him, to tighten around Merlin and pull him as deep as he can.

He wants to claim him, Arthur thinks, as Merlin pushes inside of him.

Merlin just sits there at first, his hands on Arthur's hips and his eyes closed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth until Arthur squeezes his thighs around Merlin's waist. All of the control that it seems Merlin's been holding onto leaves him, and he pushes deeper into Arthur, pulls back, then slams into him over and over.

It's fast and filthy, and Arthur loves it. He's forgotten sex could be like this, forgotten that he could have pleasure like this, rather than the guilt after pulling off with half-formed thoughts lurking in the back of his mind that no one would ever want him again after finding out about his leg.

The pleasure is nearly overwhelming, and Arthur scrabbles at the sheets, trying to gain purchase, to be able to meet Merlin's hips with his own, to make sure he's feeling the same. Arthur's reaching up to pull Merlin down for a kiss when Merlin does something that Arthur never imagined anyone would.

Shifting forward on his knees, Merlin lifts Arthur's right leg and puts it up over his own shoulder. He turns his head and kisses the scarred skin on the inside of Arthur's knee.

"Fuck, fuck, Merlin." Arthur can barely voice even that, and he can feel Merlin laugh into his skin where his head is still turned. "I need-"

Merlin doesn't let Arthur get the words out of his mouth before he's reached down and picked up Arthur's hand from the bed. He twines their fingers together and together they tangle their hands around Arthur's cock.

"Come for me one more time," Merlin says, and Arthur is pleased to hear that Merlin's voice is nearly as hoarse as his own. "Let me see you come apart again, you fucking gorgeous man."

Merlin slides his thumb along Arthur's slit, and Arthur comes with a shout. The sticky liquid splatters across his stomach, and Arthur opens his eyes to see Merlin drag a finger through the mess. He lifts his hand to Arthur's mouth and Arthur is more than happy to oblige, sucking Merlin's finger into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. Merlin moans as Arthur takes his hand and begins to lick at the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

Merlin's eyes are dark as pushes Arthur up onto his shoulders and begins to drive his hips as hard as he can. It's not a minute later that Merlin's coming, his hands tight on Arthur's hips. Arthur cradles Merlin as he comes down, slips out, and stretches out along Arthur's body, his breath harsh at Arthur's neck.

"You're heavier than you look," Arthur says after a while, brushing back Merlin's sweaty fringe. Merlin mutters something into Arthur's shoulder, but after another moment rolls himself off Arthur. Arthur misses the weight of him, misses the feel of Merlin inside of him, no matter how sore he knows he's going to be tomorrow. He cracks one eye open to watch Merlin's bare body move around the room, picking up the pillows they'd knocked on the floor and throwing them on top of Arthur on the bed. Arthur tries to feel indignant about this, but it's hard when Merlin's picking up the condoms they used and stepping into the en suite to dispose of them. Arthur closes his eyes when he hears the tap running, only to startle when he feels a wet cloth on his stomach.

"Sorry," Merlin says and kisses Arthur's chest in apology. "I'm too tired to wait for the water to heat up."

"Fair enough," Arthur murmurs, and the last thing he remembers is Merlin pulling the duvet up over the both of them.

**********

Master Post :: Part One :: Part Two :: Part Three :: Part Four