"Merlin? It's Arthur. Uhm, I thought I'd give you a call 'cause I just wanted to see if you were available on Satur—shit. Not Saturday. I'm an idiot. I meant Friday. Yeah." Arthur made a face at his phone and waited for the automated voice to let him delete the message and try again. He'd been doing this for the past ten minutes after finally plucking up the courage to give Merlin a call. He'd been a little too relieved to hear the call go to Merlin's cheerful voicemail.
The voicemail had been new, this month, probably for the holidays: "Hey, it's Merlin! Can't come to the phone right now because I'm either being very busy and important or I've lost my phone, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I've got your message! Hope you have a super Christmas, Chanukah, or if you don't practice a religion, Happy New Year! Okay, bye!"
Before Arthur had a chance to rerecord the message, his doorbell rang.
"Would you like to delete your message?"
Arthur pressed '2' for yes before answering the door to another delivery from his father, who was in Tokyo celebrating a business deal instead of spending his Christmas with his family (as per usual). Arthur signed for the box and set it on the table in the hallway before resolving that, if he had to rerecord a message twenty-three times, it probably wasn't meant to be, and Arthur should just ask Merlin out in person when he next saw him. If he could muster up the courage.
Arthur and Merlin had met at one of Morgana's art events around four months ago. They'd seen each other off and on ever since, because Merlin and Morgana had been fast friends ever since she'd bought one of his photographs at that same show. It wasn't until the fourth time that they'd met (this time at Morgause's Interesting People Party) that Merlin had said they should get together sometime. Arthur, who had been nursing a rather large and embarrassing crush on Merlin since he'd seen a self-portrait at Merlin's show, had heartily agreed. They'd exchanged numbers, and Merlin hand hugged him before leaving that night.
"Fuck," Arthur groaned, when he realised he'd be spending Christmas Eve moping about his house. He resolved then not to give a thought to Merlin or his pathetic life and decided to order Thai.
It was five PM before Arthur had changed his mind and was pacing a hole in the carpet, phone held out in front of him, in his living room with the telly on.
"Arthur, stop being a git," he demanded out loud, and felt like the walls were judging him when he found Merlin's number and called him again.
"Hey, it's Merlin!"
And so Arthur began again, "Hey, Merlin. I was just—uhm… I was thinking about you and how we haven't seen each other in a while. I was wondering if you were available this Friday or something to have a drink at the pub or dinner or something. Yeah, so if you're up to it , let me know. Oh! By the way, this is Arthur."
There was a chuckle on the other end instead of that polite little robot lady, and the sound, although bubbly and clearly pleased, filled him with dread.
"Yeah, Arthur, I know. I knew it was you when I picked up the phone. I have your number, remember?"
"...Shit," Arthur muttered, covering his eyes with a hand.
Merlin giggled again. "S'alright. Hey, funny thing. I'm in your neighbourhood carolling with a bunch of friends from work. We could use another awful voice." There were other answering chuckles and cheerful noises of dissent on the other line. Merlin hushed them and seemed to turn away from the noise, voice more intimate. "Wanna come with?"
Arthur's heart seemed to skip a beat in his chest. "I'll have you know I was a choirboy once!" he managed.
"Was that before your voice changed?"
"Oh, shut up."
"Yeah, we'll see what you can do, you great prat. Is that a yes, then?"
He found himself nodding before he'd realised Merlin couldn't see him. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be wonderful."
"We'll be by your house in a few minutes. Get bundled up!"
"Yes, sir," Arthur answered, grinning like a loon into the receiver.
"That's more like it!" Merlin said, voice light. "See you, Arthur."
"Yeah, see you."
They both paused.
"Right. I'm going to hang up now," Merlin said around what was clearly one of his eye-crinkling grins.
"Good idea," Arthur said, and waited for the click before racing upstairs to put some woolly socks on, before racing back downstairs and gathering up his winter jumper, coat, leather gloves, snow boots and beanie hat, the one Gwen had made him for his birthday last February. He'd been messing with his hair for nearly five minutes before his doorbell rang. "Coming!" he yelled, shoved his hat on and grabbed his keys and wallet before swinging the door open.
Merlin's friend Lance was waving his arms about, counting, "One, two, three!" and then:
"I don't want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need! I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree!"
The group dissolved into laughter, continuing with a couple filler words before, "Make my wish come true...!"
Arthur spotted Merlin in the crowd of ten or so people, smiling around a sustained 'oooo!' and jumping up the steps to grab Arthur's hand.
"ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU!" the others yelled, and Arthur laughed before he was tugged into the crowd and dragged along to the next household that would answer their door to a bunch of rowdy, half-drunk carollers.
"Everyone, this is Arthur! Arthur, you've met Lance, and Olive is in the back, there. Everyone else is completely unimportant; so don't worry about remembering names…" Merlin hooked his arm around Arthur's crooked elbow and waved a dismissive hand at the others, who booed light-heartedly.
"We wouldn't remember you name anyway, Arthur," joked a blonde woman to his left, who was well past tipsy, patting his shoulder sloppily and leaning on a friend who snorted before bringing a beer bottle to her lips.
It was nearing eleven by the time the group had started tapering off, dissolving by little couples or groups of three during Good King Wenceslas until it was just Arthur and Merlin humming quietly, walking down a busy street bedecked in holiday gaiety, some shop windows still open despite the time of night.
"So, about that drink at a pub…" Merlin offered as they stopped at a corner, waiting for their time to cross the street. He nudged Arthur lightly with an elbow and glanced at him, cheeks rosy and big, lovely ears even rosier.
Arthur took his beanie off and slipped it on Merlin's head, making sure to cover his ears. "I'm pretending I never asked you, because if I think on it more I might die of embarrassment," Arthur muttered, shoving his hands back in his pockets and avoiding Merlin's gaze. He could still see Merlin pull the hat further over his ears in his peripheral vision.
"I thought it was cute. Did you think I was the answering machine?"
Arthur grumbled to himself and shot a half-hearted glare at Merlin just as they started across the street.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Merlin asked quietly, looping his arm around Arthur's elbow again.
"'Course," said Arthur.
"Morgana kept inviting me everywhere as her date because she knew you'd be there, too. At my photography show I… well, I indicated an interest in you, and Morgana said I was mad but adorable and that she'd make sure I saw you again. So, yeah. I've been thinking about you, too, Arthur. Surely for longer than you've been thinking about me."
Arthur blushed, feeling a bubbly warmth in his chest at Merlin's honest confession. "I wouldn't be so sure," he mumbled. "I've had a bit of a crush since we met."
They stopped under the shelter of an awning near the entrance to a cosy little pub on a pedestrian street. Merlin dragged him close before planting a kiss on Arthur's lips, leaving him a little breathless.
Merlin cupped Arthur's cheek. "I'm glad you called me, tonight."
Arthur hooked leather-clad fingers in the pockets of Merlin's puffy jacket before bumping Merlin's angular nose with his. "Me, too. Merry Christmas, Merlin."
Merlin opened the door to the pub, gesturing for Arthur to step inside. "Merry Christmas, Arthur."