A/N: This story is the result of a discussion with MoonFox and Matt about Eoin Macken ('Gwaine') and his hair. Guys, this one's for you; I hope you like it! Beta'ed, as always, by the incomparable sarajm.
Perfection Can't Be Rushed
"Gwaine, what in God's name are you doing in there? I'm going to be late!" called Merlin as he pounded on the bathroom door.
"Wouldn't you like to know," came the slightly muffled response.
"Gwaine!"
"All right, all right. Hold your horses! Just gimme a minute." A click, the door opened and Gwaine exited the small bathroom with a towel around his waist and a large wash bag in his hand. Curls of warm air enshrouded the dark-haired man like a blanket and hung heavy in the narrow hallway. "All yours, my lord," he said with a smirk as he bowed to his friend.
Merlin gave him a grin and slipped into the bathroom. Gwaine had taken so long in the shower that Merlin now had less than five minutes to wash, shave and brush his teeth before he had to be out the door on his way to work. Turning on the faucet, Merlin ran his hand across the bathroom mirror, his dry palm squeaking as it crossed the moisture-laden surface. As he reached for his razor, Merlin couldn't help but smile and shake his head in exasperation. Gwaine would never change … but he really did wonder what the hell the man got up to in there every morning!
Five minutes later, Merlin grabbed his keys and his wallet, shrugged on his coat and called, "I'm off Gwaine. Will you be home for dinner?"
"Nah, got a shift starting at 6 tonight. I'll eat before I go, but I'll leave you a plate, yeah?"
"Great! Thanks, Gwaine. I'll see you later!"
Merlin pounded down the stairs, rushed out the front door and closed it firmly behind him. It was a beautiful day, and despite the panic of earlier, Merlin had the time to stroll leisurely to the corner to catch the bus. As he made his way along the sidewalk with the other morning commuters, Merlin cast his thoughts back to three days previous when he'd received a slightly frantic phone call from his friend.
"Merls, Hi! I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour."
"Gwaine! Sure … what do you need?"
"Well," answered Gwaine in a slightly sheepish tone, "I was wondering if I could crash at your place for a couple of nights. See, Mrs. Oodley, who lives upstairs, had a bit of an issue with her washing machine. It overflowed, right into my flat! Half the ceiling came down in the bedroom and the place is basically unliveable until the repairs are done."
"Gwaine, that's awful!" said Merlin. "Did much of your stuff get damaged?"
"No, fortunately only the bedroom and bathroom were affected. But ... I can't stay here with the flat in this mess. And, since they've got to redo the bedroom and bathroom, the landlord said he'd take advantage of the situation and do some reno work in the kitchen as well. So … as you can see …" Gwaine's voice trailed off.
"Of course you can stay here," answered Merlin. "I can set you up in my spare room. It'll be a blast! What time will you be here?"
"Thanks, Merlin. You're a pal! I've just got to get some of my stuff moved into the storage space in the basement and then I'll head right over. I should be there about 6. I'll bring dinner with me – pizza and beer sound okay?"
"Great, Gwaine; and pizza and beer sounds just the thing. You've got a key, so just come over when you're ready; I'll be here."
It had now been three days and Merlin had no complaints. In actual fact, the two had seen very little of each other. The older man was co-owner of a nearby bar so he usually headed over there in the morning to check the inventory and ensure everything was ready for the evening rush, returned to the flat for a kip in the afternoon and then made his way back to the bar to cover the evening shift. Gwaine was usually gone by the time Merlin made it home from work, but he always ensured that there was a plate of food in the refrigerator that Merlin could just pop in the microwave for dinner. Gwaine was proving to be an excellent houseguest: he wasn't overly messy, he was considerate of Merlin's space and he was a terrific cook as well!
Except … except for the inordinate amount of time Gwaine took in the morning getting ready. Every day it was the same thing – the man spent a good 45 minutes locked away in the bathroom and Merlin, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what was going on in there.
The next morning, Saturday to be exact, was a replay of the previous mornings. At least Merlin wasn't in a rush to get to work, so he was curled up on the sofa reading the paper and munching on a piece of toast when he heard the soft snick of the bathroom door closing. Glancing up at the clock on the kitchen wall, Merlin noted that it was now 9:30 a.m.
I wonder how long he's going to be in there this morning? wondered Merlin as he turned his attention back to the paper. By 10:15, Merlin had finished reading the paper, washed his breakfast dishes and was dressed for the day … but still no sight of Gwaine. Oh, there had been plenty of noises coming from the loo. There was the sound of water rushing out of the shower head, there was the whirr of an electric razor and there was the particular whoosh of a blow dryer, but none of that seemed to justify forty-five minutes in the bathroom. Once again, Merlin's curiosity was piqued.
About five minutes later, Gwaine opened the bathroom door to find his friend leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed and a grin on his face.
"Whoa, you startled me Merlin. I didn't expect to see you there!" said Gwaine as he stepped back in surprise. "Is there a problem?"
"No, no problem," answered Merlin with a smirk. "Just doing some fact finding."
"Fact finding? What are you going on about?"
"I'm trying to figure out what you're doing in there that takes forty-five minutes!"
Gwaine had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
"Oh, God," whispered Merlin, slightly horrified. He uncrossed his arms and waved his hands in front of his face. "Please, don't say anything! I'm sorry I asked!"
Gwaine looked at his friend in surprise for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Oh, Merlin, if you could see your face! It's not that! Please, give me some credit. I do that in the bedroom!"
"Wha … don't …. I don't need to know," spluttered Merlin as he grew red-faced.
Gwaine, by this time, was bent over in hysterics, his hands on his knees and loud guffaws filling the flat. "If you must know, I was doing my hair," he responded with a smile as he straightened up.
"You were doing your hair? For forty-five minutes?!" squawked Merlin. Granted, Gwaine did have lovely hair and Merlin had always been slightly jealous of his friend's locks, but still … forty-five minutes a day to do your hair seemed a little excessive in Merlin's eyes.
"Yes," answered Gwaine as he tossed his head, setting his thick waves to bouncing and shimmering in the dim glow of the ceiling light. "I was doing my hair. Between the shampooing, the conditioner, the strengthener, the anti-frizz serum and then blow drying and styling, it takes a bit of time. After all, perfection can't be rushed!"