"Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. " - William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
When Arthur awoke, it was to Merlin.
In the corner of his sleep-filled eye, he made out a stark profile across from him in the narrow, navy-sheeted bed. Messy raven hair like ink on the pillowcase, chest bare and uncovered by the blankets that encased most of his torso and legs, head tilted just slightly away from Arthur's own, but with fingers reaching out and splayed against his hipbone.
Minimal sunlight was streaming through the wide window – London was in a downpour, surprise, surprise. But what little light did worm its way into this little bubble of unreality was golden warm against pale skin.
Arthur sucked in a breath.
Clench.
Unclench.
(Fist or heart, he wasn't certain.)
With one last glance at Merlin's still body, Arthur resigned himself to finding his clothes.
In the time he made it out the bedroom door and down the rickety staircase that would lead him into the city's rainy underbelly, Merlin didn't move a muscle.
Clench.
Unclench.
(Definitely the heart.)
"So," Morgana drawled over eggs and toast, her six inch heels clacking impatiently against the floor and nearly knocking over her shiny black briefcase that rested against the table's legs. Arthur glanced up from his food to meet her wickedly plotting smile and immediately wished he hadn't decided to drop by her apartment for breakfast. "Merlin's back in town. Did you know?"
Arthur didn't even blink. "I had no idea."
("I just landed at Heathrow."
"Thank you for the information regarding your whereabouts – I wasn't aware that I cared."
"Pendragon – You haven't changed a bit. I almost missed your outdated comebacks and slow-moving brain patterns."
"Well, Emrys, I can honestly say that I didn't even slightly miss your pointless blather and dull wit."
"Are you in London or not, you simple-minded prat?"
"Pick you up in half an hour, you idiotic imbecile.")
"The two of you should have dinner," Morgana's arm snaked across the table. Arthur trained his eyes on her carefully in order to ensure that her perfectly manicured fingernails would not reach for his throat. Luckily for him, she simply took ahold of her glass of water and sipped as she gazed expectantly at him. "Since you're both in town, for once."
"We've been in London at the same time before," Arthur pointed out. "Last…Last May, wasn't it?"
("Shall I compare thee to a summer's day...?"
"You're so drunk right now, Emrys."
"You're still lovely and temp….temper….whatever. Hot. Wanna fuck?"
"Only because you're still sober enough to quote Shakespeare.")
"June," Morgana clacked a heel purposefully for emphasis as she pursed her lips. "Don't think I'm not aware that you remember exactly the dates you were last together."
June second through the twelfth, Arthur thought sullenly to himself, but his half-sister 's only merit was silence with a fiery glare that promised doom and destruction if this topic were to be pursued any further than it already had been.
"Morgana, are you trying to play matchmaker again?" Arthur's entire body let out a sigh of relief as Guinevere, goddess from heaven above, entered the white-tiled, airy kitchen. She was still in her pajamas, pink sweatpants and an overlarge white t-shirt that probably belonged to Morgana, but Arthur had never seen a more beautiful sight.
Mainly because Morgana was always distracted by her girlfriend's beauty and, if Gwen was present and with "adorable bedhead" (Morgana's words, not his), Arthur might actually escape this meal alive and embarrassment-free.
"Why yes, darling, I am," Morgana arose from her seat with all the grace and presence of Her Majesty the Queen to kiss the top of Gwen's head. Arthur knew she had a thing for that. "Now would you tell Arthur that he and Merlin would be utterly flawless together?"
Gwen tilted her head to the side, contemplating with a half-smile that Arthur disliked the look of. "Utterly flawless. Hmm. Yes, good choice of words. I approve."
"Nnngh," Arthur groaned and let his forehead bang unnecessarily hard against the wooden tabletop. There would probably be a bruise. He wasn't in the caring mood, though. "I hate you all."
"Well, he's coming over for dinner tonight." Arthur couldn't see Morgana's face, but he could hear the eye roll that was accompanying her gloating tone. "And so are you. So you'll have to interact, whether you like it or not."
The only thing Arthur wanted to do involved screaming and breaking expensive chinaware.
Liking him was kind of the predicament here.
"Hey, it's Emrys, back in town at last! How is the exotic traveler? Bring back any exciting specimens? Like from your own yet undiscovered species?"
"Piss off, Gwaine," Merlin said with a laugh, shoving his friend's arm off his shoulder. It was immediately replaced by the opposite arm, but it wasn't like Merlin minded all that much. "Did you manage to entertain yourself while I was away?"
"Always do," Gwaine said with a bright and beaming grin. "But now you're back, so I don't need to worry about it! How long are you around this time?"
Merlin gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders as Gwaine opened the door from the hallway to his small, cramped flat. The two walked inside, Merlin tossing his bag haphazardly on the floor as he fell against one of the plushy green chairs Gwaine kept just inside the doorway "A few weeks? I'm not sure. As long as Gaius lets me."
"You want to crash here?" Gwaine asked as he strode across the floor which, from the looks of it had been recently carpeted, and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Merlin, who caught it with minimal difficulty.
"Nah, I'm still paying rent on that piece of shit five blocks over," Merlin said with a laugh. "No idea why, I'm only there four or five times a year."
"It's so you don't have to bring Pendragon back to my place when the two of you want to get it on," Gwaine replied without missing a beat.
Merlin promptly choked on his beer.
"What the hell, mate?" He spluttered, wiping away the liquid from where it bubbled out over his lips. Gwaine laughed outright as he collapsed lackadaisically on the couch across from Merlin.
"You think I don't know about the two of you? Blind men could see the sexual tension radiating off your bodies whenever you're in ten feet of one another."
("You're, like, oozing sex right now. God, why are you allowed in public?"
"'Cause I'm just that damn irresistible. C'mon, admit it – I have swept you away, Emrys.")
"We're –" Merlin made a valiant attempt at forming words. "How – I hardly ever see him!"
"Yes, because you're out saving the world in rainforests and Arthur's company has, like sixteen different branches and he feels the need to control all of them equally. However, the distance hardly matters. Sexting is a thing."
"We don't – We've never –" Merlin gesticulated wildly, nearly flinging his beer bottle across the room. Gwaine ducked in apprehension, which merited him an icy look.
"Whatever, mate, I would put quite a load of money on the two of you having hooked up at least once," Gwaine put his hands up in defense, but his dancing, jesting smile remained in place.
("How many times have we done this now?"
"What, woken up in bed together?"
"No, taken a boat ride around Venice. Yes, woken up in bed together."
"…Nine? Ten? I lose track. All of the times seem to just blur together."
"Please, we all know that I rock your world. You haven't forgotten a single detail.")
And that count had occurred at least two trips ago. God, he hoped Gwaine couldn't read minds. Which, to be frank, was a terrifying thought on its own.
Gwaine continued speaking over Merlin's dissension into madness and fierce blushing. "You're coming to dinner at Morgana's tonight, aren't you?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Merlin took a swig of his drink and let his body relax back into his seat, hopefully putting Arthur out of his mind for the rest of the day.
"Excellent. Arthur's going to be there."
"Hold on a second. What?"
"They're pathetic."
"Absolutely, utterly pathetic."
"Wankers."
"God, are they blind?"
"Better, more pertinent question – are they stupid?"
"They just – Ugh. I cannot deal with their ignorance any longer. We need to do something about it."
"I agree. Morgana Pendragon, my favorite lesbian evil genius – What would you say to a plan?"
"Plan. I like the sound of that word. It's a good word, a productive one. Do go on."
"Tell Arthur that Merlin's in love with him."
"That's what I've been saying!"
"No, no, not your usual hypothetical bullshit. Legitimately, flat out tell him Merlin's desperately in love with him. And I'll tell Merlin that Arthur's desperately in love with him. And then they'll work the rest out for themselves, ride into the sunset in a flashy Corvette, and we can high-five and compliment ourselves on a good day's work."
"Gwaine, do you know Arthur? Or Merlin, for that matter? In what world would they actually believe that? I can't decide if they're riddled with overwhelming insecurity or just plain dense."
"Valid point, valid point. I'd go with the dense option, though. – Wait. Brain spark. Alert the press, Mor, I'm a fucking whiz kid. I should be put on a quiz show and win a million fucking dollars for how brilliant this idea is."
"Don't hold out on me, hotshot."
"We don't tell them. We let them hear it."
"….Explanation necessary."
"What if our favorite duo happened to, ah, overhear a conversation about the other. A conversation that would make them question things that they're good at ignoring like, you know…feelings. And if they each thought that the other was hopelessly in love with him and was just too afraid to say…"
"Gwaine, you sly devil. Today, the title of evil genius can be bestowed upon you."
"Wow, Mor, I'm honored and humbled by your kind words. Sure I can't also have the 'lesbian' part of that title, too?"
The phone, unsurprisingly, went dead.
"…I just feel so bad for Merlin."
Arthur didn't mean to stop and loiter in the hallway between the bathroom and Morgana and Gwen's bedroom. He really, truly didn't.
Honestly.
His shoe had become untied. That was a problem, one that needed fixing immediately, so that he wouldn't trip and harm himself. Because that was a bad thing, one that should be avoided, and ensuring that he was not hurt was high on Arthur's to-do list.
It was simply a coincidence that his shoe's predicament happened to coincide with Gwen's voice carrying just a bit more than necessary as she spoke to Morgana.
He could also hear her footsteps, pacing. It was a familiar sound – Arthur often paced when he was facing a particularly difficult issue at his company. The pacing, the voice laced with worry, and the mention of Merlin's name and well-being…
Yep.
Definitely a coincidence.
Therefore, he could not be blamed for anything that he happened to hear through Morgana's paper thin walls.
"I know," Morgana picked up the pace of the conversation and Arthur strained just slightly to hear her slightly further away voice. Must be in the adjoining bathroom or the walk-in closet. "It's obvious Arthur is indifferent about this whole spectacle, while meanwhile Merlin's poor little heart is being ripped out."
Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes. If Morgana still thought words like 'poor' and 'little' described Merlin, she needed to get her eyes checked. Merlin was nearly as evil as she was sometimes.
But he wasn't weighing to heavily on that – His issue was why Merlin's heart and his own indifference belonged in a sentence together. Because they didn't. They couldn't.
"It's a damn shame," Gwen clicked her tongue, and also her heels. Still pacing, apparently. "I wish Merlin would just move on, it would be better for them both. I mean, he'll never say anything about it, he's mortified by the idea, but he's kind of limiting his options here."
Morgana sighed heavily and overdramatically, as per her usual. "I suppose when you're that in love a person –"
That was about when Arthur's ears plugged up and he choked on his own spit.
That was wrong.
That was so, totally, completely, 100% wrong.
There was no way Morgana had her facts straight, absolutely no way, no fucking way.
That was –
That was unthinkable.
Merlin couldn't possibly be in love with Arthur, no chance in hell that subject approached reality with a ten foot pole. Or a twenty foot pole. Or a thirty foot pole.
There was just no possible explanation for any of the words that came out of Morgana's mouth.
Arthur, in a valiant attempt to unfreeze his joints that felt like they miraculously turned to lead within an instant, began to shake.
Mainly his head, but the rest of his body was reacting, too, and not in a pleasant way. Arthur's skin suddenly became very, very cold.
And what lay beneath the skin suddenly became very, very warm.
He wished he could listen to the rest of Morgana and Gwen's conversation, but that felt – that felt like he was disturbing something he had no right to. Instead, he stumbled to his feet and, hoping his limbs wouldn't fail him, made his way haphazardly back into the kitchen, where he fell onto one of Morgana's sleek white chairs as soon as he was able.
Now that he was out of Morgana's grasp, he could properly and rationally think through this new development.
Except, he found, he couldn't.
Because it didn't make sense. His and Merlin's relationship had always been half banter and half fucking, which left room for nothing else, as the banter and the fucking were two of Arthur's favorite things. Romance had never, ever entered into the equation when it came to Merlin and Arthur. Neither of them was particularly good at actual feelings, and Arthur's previous thought was that the two of them shared the same thought – that there was no room for emotion in their shared lives other than you're hot and we should fuck.
Continuously fuck. Off and on for five years now.
But other than that, feelings? Entirely off the table.
But if Morgana and Gwen weren't lying, if Merlin actually felt…something.(love).for him…
It wouldn't –
It wouldn't necessarily be a terrible thing. Merlin was a singularly attractive, intelligent, humorous individual who never failed to make Arthur either laugh or question his own fragile existence. He was unique in all the best ways, and even if he was a little off-kilter at times, or lied too often, or had a pair of truly ridiculous ears that Arthur knew were sensitive to the touch…
Ahem.
It wouldn't necessarily be a terrible thing.
He could confront Merlin about it – unless Merlin was planning on doing something about it? No, no, from the way Morgana and Gwen had spoken, it seemed like Merlin wasn't going to say a word on the matter.
Out of embarrassment, apparently. What was there to be embarrassed about, though? Arthur knew he was hot, and knew he could make a person melt with a smile, and Merlin was a foremost expert on both of Arthur's wooing talents.
Well, sort of. Merlin wasn't exactly the type to be wooed. He was more the type to roll his eyes at flowers and chocolate – but, diabolical fiend that he is, he would probably turn around and get flowers and chocolate for Arthur the very next day, and Arthur wouldn't be able to deny them because chocolate, and it would descend into an argument about who was being wooed by the other, and then –
Fuck.
Arthur was daydreaming about domesticity and Merlin wooing him.
This was bad.
Unless…unless it wasn't. Because if Merlin really was in love with him, and Arthur l…liked him quite a bit, then the pending disaster that this spectacle was turning in to could potentially be averted.
This was the first time that Arthur could remember ever being able to solve a problem by using his emotions.
It was strange. He didn't like it.
Perhaps – tonight, yes, perhaps tonight they could talk.
Perhaps.
Merlin was sitting on one of Gwaine's old, ratty barstools that he had found six years ago at some stoner's garage sail, just starting his second beer, when the phone rang. Merlin reached for it, out of habit, but Gwaine had snatched out from his outstretched hands and put it to his ear.
After many unsuccessful hand maneuvers to try and get Gwaine to give him the phone, especially after Merlin found out it was Freya on the line, who he talked to in months and was heavily pissed off that Gwaine wouldn't just give him the fucking phone, his friend departed the room, speaking in hushed, urgent tones in words that Merlin couldn't quite make out.
This worried him. Gwaine was not a secret-keeper. He'd done this before earlier today, when who Merlin assumed was either Morgana or Guinevere had been on the line – just shut himself away so Merlin couldn't hear the conversation.
Highly, highly worrisome.
This time, Merlin followed Gwaine, and pressed his ear to the bedroom door when the voice became too muffled.
(Despite what others may say, Merlin was not creepy, nor a stalker. He and Gwaine had known each other since they were seven. Gwaine had nosed his way into countless amounts of Merlin's personal business. Once, he had followed Merlin across two countries. Listening to a phone conversation was very easily justifiable when put into that perspective.)
Besides, Merlin was just attempting to be a good friend, and since he was abroad so often, his chances ran few and far between. There could be something seriously wrong with Gwaine – well, other than the usual – and as his best friend, Merlin had the right to know if Gwaine was, like, dying of cancer or something.
Merlin hoped Gwaine wasn't dying of cancer.
But if he was, would Merlin be left the barstools?
He put the thought out of his mind and focused on intently listening to Gwaine's seemingly more vocal tones.
"Freya, I'm telling you, Merlin doesn't give a shit about Arthur."
That was a bit unfair, Merlin frowned. He cared about Arthur. In a strictly platonic, fuck-buddy kind of way.
"No, no, I mean it. God, it's…God, I've never been the princess's number one fan, but he's practically besotted, and Merlin just vehemently denies any kind of feelings. It's like he's disgusted by the thought."
Merlin would have been offended by Gwaine's judgmental tone, because obviously Arthur did not disgust him, but he was a little too fixated on the word besotted.
Because that word did not belong in Gwaine's sentence. Merlin had probably misheard him, and he really said 'beastly' or 'belligerent' or some other word beginning with 'b' that was very, very far away from the 'besotted'.
Merlin had definitely misheard.
He waited for a few moments, as Freya's unheard voice replied to Gwaine before his voice struck back up again, exasperated and laden with frustration.
"I'm sorry, Freya, but it's just not going to happen, no matter how much Arthur loves Merlin."
Merlin only just managed to stop himself from snorting in laughter. Yeah, right. There was definitely some faulty hearing mechanism between Gwaine's bedroom and kitchen, because Merlin did not just hear that.
Maybe he had been transported to some kind of strange, alternate dimension. That was a hell of a lot more likely than those slanderous words that it sounded like Gwaine spewed.
Any other explanation would be a hell of a lot more believable than Arthur being in love with him.
That was just plain insanity.
Gwaine, after brief, stilted silence, continued speaking, just a hair quieter this time. "Of course I'm sure. The man practically pines. He'll never say a word on the matter to Merlin, but he's told me himself. He's in love, and Merlin isn't. Therefore, according to our favorite unlucky in love princess, Merlin can never know this particular truth."
Merlin decided he'd heard enough.
Backing slowly away from the door (never knew when Gwaine would come back out, and Merlin didn't want the door smacking him straight against the opposite wall, as such incidents had occurred before), Merlin tried not to stumble on his way back over to the rusty bar seat.
He stared blankly at his unfinished drink for a moment, considering whether he trusted himself to take a sip without spitting it out in a belated spit-take off of a beloved 50s sitcom.
Fuck.
Fucking fuckity fucking fuck fuck fuck.
This was not real life. This was a twisted hallucination or daydream cooked up by Merlin's overactive imagination, and there was no possible way it was actually occurring. There was no way Arthur was – in love with him, the chances of that…It was just plain unthinkable.
"Hey, sorry about that, mate."
Merlin jumped a half a foot in the air and let out a very dignified and not at all girly shriek. He'd nearly forgotten about Gwaine's existence in the light of his internal crisis.
"You…okay?" Gwaine's voice from behind him chuckled as the man swung around, entering into Merlin's peripheral vision and eventually landing in the seat beside him.
"Yes, yes, fine, why do you ask?" Merlin cursed his stammer and quickly took a swig of beer to cover it up. It gurgled down his throat unpleasantly.
"You look spooked," Gwaine laughed, eyes dancing with their usual merriment as he took a healthy chug out of his own bottle. "That deer-caught-in-the-headlights look you've perfected so well over the years."
"What? I'm not spooked, not a deer, nothing at all is the matter," Merlin gave a nervous laugh, faking incredulity.
Gwaine rolled his eyes, smirking infuriatingly. "Sure. Whatever you say. Anyway, Freya wants to see you. She's heading over now with Lance."
"Alright, sounds good," Merlin replied automatically, his mind not at all registering anything that had actually come out of Gwaine's mouth. It was too busy racing madly trying to figure out exactly what the repercussions of this new development would be.
Arthur – Arthur couldn't actually be in love with him. Could he? Merlin tried to think back to any sign, any at all, that Arthur had harbored any deep feelings for him, and came up blank. But they had been sleeping together for a while now, and that kind of thing might leave an impression on a person – it had on Merlin (shut up, brain don't remind of that now).
Merlin swallowed hard.
He would have to talk to Arthur about it.
Goddammit.
Despite Arthur's promise to himself, he was Not Speaking to Merlin.
And despite Merlin's promise to himself, he was Avoiding Contact with Arthur.
Morgana cleared her throat unnecessarily loudly in order to be heard through the deafening silence that permeated the dinner table.
"So," she said, taking a sip from her champagne glass. She only broke out her nice champagne on special occasions, and apparently this merited as one. It was a rather large congregation of sorts, one that wasn't exactly in the norm; she and Gwen were present, obviously, and Merlin and Arthur as well, but with the additions of Gwaine, wearing a shit eating grin, Freya, smiling daintily and perhaps a tad mischievously, and Lancelot, who just looked confused. "Are either of you going to regale us with grand stories from your vast and expansive travels?"
"Nah," Merlin said immediately, all too aware of the room's palpable tension. "I think you've all heard enough bug stories to last a lifetime, and that's all I've got. There was quite the experience with a nearly extinct species of lizard, but Gaius says I'm not allowed to talk about that one."
As Gwaine and Morgana spent a few precious moments complaining about Merlin being a tease, Lancelot gave Arthur a Look, one that clearly said 'something is going on here and I want to find out what.'
Arthur just shrugged at him and took a large, healthy swig of his champagne. He didn't want to think about this. He knew he had to talk to Merlin – the man was in love with him, for Christ's sake – but how the hell was he supposed to do it in front of all of their friends without drawing unnecessary attention to himself?
Unbeknownst to him, Merlin currently suffered from a similar mental struggle as he pretended to pay attention to the shifting subject of Gwaine's most recent conquests. He had, after a long and heated mental debate that took place as he paced about Gwaine's bathroom earlier that day, decided that if Arthur truly was in love with him, it would only be right to attempt to reciprocate the feeling.
Not that it would be a great chore or anything.
But if love was even on the table at all…Merlin owed it to Arthur to try it, didn't he? He couldn't just reject the man out of hand. That would be cruel and callous, two things Merlin was not, and besides, Arthur was…he was the kind of person Merlin would want a future with.
Hypothetically.
Somehow, amid their individual mental breakdowns, they managed to make eye contact across the table.
Somehow, with a grimaces, grunts, and flickers of blue, an agreement was set upon.
"I'm going outside to get some fresh air," Merlin made a show of scraping his chair away from the table, sighing deeply and overdramatically as he got to his feet. "No offense to all of you, but I am considerably cramped. Be back in a few."
Merlin, avoiding all of his friends' knowing gazes – well, the knowing gazes of everyone but Lancelot, who still looked hopelessly out of his depth and was probably at this point wondering why he had come to dinner in the first place – stepped outside the sliding glass door that led to a tiny brick patio. Sliding the door back into place behind him, Merlin thought that it was a good thing Morgana and Gwen's flat was at ground level.
The night was strangely peaceful. It was somewhat cool, fall's tendrils beginning to take root in the air, but summer's warmth lingered just so much that Merlin could feel it.
He sighed heavily and wished he hadn't quit smoking five years back. Now would be an excellent time for a cigarette.
Luckily, he didn't have long to dwell on the subject, for the door shuddered open not a second later. Merlin jumped, but not noticeably. He hadn't been expecting Arthur so soon.
He turned, making sure that it was Arthur, and was not disappointed. The man was dressed impeccably, as always, in a business suit minus the jacket, and tie slightly askew. If this had been an ordinary evening, Merlin would be ripping that tie off of him within the instant and attempting to fit a five minute mutual hand job into the evening before anyone noticed they were missing.
This wasn't an ordinary evening, though, and somehow, they both knew it.
Their eyes met as Arthur let the door slam shut.
"Wasn't expecting you out for another couple minutes," Merlin focused on a grassy spot on the ground, far preferable to actually having to meet Arthur's eyes. "Avoiding suspicion and all that."
Arthur chuckled quietly, trying not to let on he was scared shitless. "Apparently we're past that now. It wasn't five seconds before Gwen told me I could follow you out. So…I did. If that's okay."
"Yeah, yeah, it's okay," Merlin tried to smile, but it came out more like a pained grimace.
They stood in contemplative silence for a few moments before Arthur spoke again.
"Look, I – I don't know – I don't know if I should –" He cut himself off with a frustrated sigh and a few muttered curse words. "I'm sorry."
Merlin looked up for the first time, blinking, a curious smile on his face. Arthur never apologized; not for anything. Not ever.
Maybe he really was –
"Arthur, can you turn around?" Merlin asked, thoughts forming into coherency.
Arthur gave him a look that was half condescending, half amused. "I see someone's in a kinky mood."
"Shut up," Merlin crinkled his nose. "I just – I have something I have to say to you and I can't say it if you're looking at me."
Arthur's heart sped up uncomfortably fast. Was this – was this it? Was Merlin going to tell him that he loved him? Arthur wasn't sure if he could handle it, handle that kind of emotion coming from Merlin of all people, but then again, the fact that it was Merlin was kind of the point…
He turned around.
He heard Merlin shift behind him with a "Oh, look, can't say it to the back of your head either. Um, okay, here it goes."
Arthur took in a deep breath, steeling himself.
Merlin did the same.
"I – Arthur, I think you're amazing. Absolutely incredible in every possible way. I…I always have fun with you. You're brilliant, so don't ever let anyone tell you any differently. Also, don't take this as an ego boost, you're still an insufferable prat – but…you're the kind of insufferable that goes really well with my particular brand of insufferable, and really, I think we're just generally stuck with each other, so I was wondering if maybe you'd letmetakeyoutodinnersometimemaybe?"
Both of them let out a breath.
Clench.
Unclench.
Merlin was going to explode. He hadn't thought himself capable of that kind of a speech, a declaration, and he never in a million years thought he'd ever have the courage to say it to Arthur. His heart threatened to fall out of his chest as he awaited a response.
Turning back around slowly, Arthur saw Merlin was facing the opposite wall. Apparently he'd turned as well. He touched Merlin's shoulder, and he reacted with a slight jump as he spun to meet Arthur's eye.
"I…" Arthur tried to come up with something just as grand or perhaps his usual cocksure and sarcastic, but words failed him. Only one thing sprung to mind. "I would really like that. Merlin."
Merlin smiled hesitantly across at him, and Arthur was certain he'd never seen anything more beautiful.
"We – we shouldn't tell them," Arthur said, eyes flickering inside to their friends. They couldn't see the table any more than the table could see them, darkness coupled with curtains on the door, but it was still a present worry. "We should see if this works out before they start getting invested in it. You know they would want to….interfere."
"You mean gloat," Merlin corrected with a nervous chuckle.
Arthur, taking note of the wariness in Merlin's eyes and remembering Morgana's statement about how this entire ordeal was mortifying for him, suddenly said "Look, if you don't – if you don't want to do this, if you –"
"No!" Merlin corrected, recalling Gwaine's sureness about Arthur never, ever wanting Merlin to know about his true feelings. "I – I really do. Want to, that is. I really do want to."
They shared a smile, neither of them aware of what went on in the other's mind.
"Can I – Can I kiss you? Really kiss you, before we go back inside?" Arthur stammered, deciding spur of the moment that he couldn't let this particular thought go. Merlin didn't look like he minded the idea all that much, at least by his hesitant grin's indication.
"Okay."
They had kissed before, kissed countless times before, but none of their previous kisses had tasted quite like this one.
Six Months Later
"Mm. Wake up, you're drooling on my sleeve."
"Am not. That's your drool."
"Then how is it on my sleeve when my mouth is up here?"
"The body, much like the mind, works in mysterious ways."
"You're too cryptic too early in the morning."
"You love it."
"Debatable."
The week had started out much like any other, with Merlin texting Arthur, who had been spent the last week overseeing his company's site in Albania, from Egypt, just east of the Nile, where Gaius had decided was an excellent place to search for unknown animal life for some reason.
Their texts were sporadic and often meaningless, but they were the only contact the two of them had managed to wrangle out of the last few months, except for a particularly memorable weekend in France two months back. After managing to get a few dates out of their miniscule time spent in London, they had come to the unspoken mutual agreement that their relationship would reach beyond simply convenient-when-present all the way up to miss-you-babe text messages while separated by thousands of miles.
Neither of them was entirely sure how it happened.
But it had.
So Merlin had texted Arthur about midday, knowing he wasn't likely to get a response, with 'Gaius wants to take a quick trip back to London on Fri. Any chance I could see you?'
Surprisingly, his phone buzzed not ten minutes later with a reply. 'I'll find a way to be there. Pick you up at airport?'
Merlin had tried to stop the grin from spreading over his face, especially since Gaius and his eyebrow were only a room away, and Gaius had super senses about these kinds of things. It was especially embarrassing when the texts happened to be dirty.
This one, though, was a simple 'Text you details later. Can't wait to see you, missed you loads.'
And now, back in Merlin's London flat, curled up against Arthur's side in a rare showing of domesticity, he couldn't think of any place in the world he would rather be.
"I think Freya wants me to help her redecorate her flat today," Merlin murmured into the crook of Arthur's neck, warm against his lips. "I'd invite you to come along, but…"
"S'okay," Arthur chuckled, fingers carding lightly through Merlin's hair. "I've got to get to work anyway."
"Hey, there's a branch of Pendragon Industries in Vienna, right?" Merlin feigned an innocent question as he sat up, cracking his neck and waiting to hear a pop. Arthur winced at the sound as he pulled himself upward next to him.
"Yeah, one of our more recent ones," he replied with a frown. "Any reason why you're asking?"
Merlin shrugged and cracked his neck again so hopefully Arthur would be too distracted to think about the matter too much. "Nah, just wondering."
"You're a horrible liar," Arthur leaned over to kiss him sloppily on the cheek. They really were quite disgusting in their affections; it was good thing they never pretended to be anything more than friends in public. "Why do you want to know?"
"Fine," Merlin rolled his eyes and threw himself back against the covers. "Gaius wants us to do some work with at a lab there for the unforeseeable future, and he had me…get a flat. So I was wondering if you would – maybe you'd want to – I don't know, stay with me there. For a while."
Arthur's smile was blinding as he leaned over and kissed Merlin full on the mouth, nice and soft and slow. "I'd love to. I'd really, really love to."
Merlin's mouth split into a grin as well. "I – I move there next week. I'll be there pretty consistently."
"The Vienna branch does need quite a bit of work," Arthur's eyes crinkled around the edges as a hesitant insecurity filtered into his voice. "…How much were you planning on wanting to see me?"
Merlin laughed gently, rolling over on his side so he was nearly on top of Arthur, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I always want to see you."
"Good," Arthur grinned into his mouth, humming contentedly. "God, I'm glad I heard Morgana say you loved me."
Merlin, frowning and confused, suddenly jolted upward. "Um – what?"
Arthur sat up, too, eyes crinkling once again, but this time in an angry, almost defensive way. "Morgana. I overheard her telling Gwen you were in love with me."
"God – What the hell?" Merlin scooted away from Arthur, the distance between them suddenly a palpable, tangible thing. "I was never – Why would she say that?"
"I don't know, because it's true?" Arthur had gotten off of the bed now, in nothing more than his boxers, staring down at Merlin with poison on his tongue.
"When was this?"
"Six – six months ago," Arthur replied, eyes jerking from Merlin's quickly and fixating on a spot of air.
"Is that…" Merlin's voice was carefully controlled anger, eyes smoldering as he pulled himself out of the bed as well, although on the opposite side of Arthur. "Is that the only reason you said yes when I asked you out? Because you thought I was in love with you?"
"Well –" Arthur began, not quite sure what was going to come out next. Luckily, he didn't have time to get out anything that would incriminate him further.
"I asked you out in the first place because I overheard Gwaine telling Freya that you were in love with me!" Merlin's hands balled into fists and his mind raced a mile a minute. Holy mother of fuck, this wasn't happening.
"Wait – that was the only reason you asked me out!" Arthur bit out, resisting the urge to curse. "I can't believe it."
"It wasn't the only –" Merlin began, but cut himself off with a sigh. "Fuck. We need to talk to those goddamn meddling fuckers. I bet this was Gwaine's idea."
"Or Morgana's," Arthur muttered. "Let's go. I'll drive. Fuck."
"So," Gwaine explained. "I was waiting in line at Tesco's when Viv comes up, and she's like 'I recognize you from somewhere', and it takes me a couple seconds, but then I realize that she's the girl I took out last year that I was under the impression was a prostitute –"
Morgana stopped herself from snorting in laughter. "Only you, Gwaine. Only you could get into this situation."
"It's a legitimate problem," Gwaine nodded sagely at her over their pizza takeout. Pizza for breakfast on Sundays had been their tradition since being flat mates in university, and it had never changed, not even when Morgana got married. Pizza for breakfast was a constant in both their lives. "Anyway, so what happened was –"
Gwaine was cut off by loud voices from the hallway, voices that seemed to be yelling angrily and argumentatively at one another. Familiar voices.
Gwaine met Morgana's eye. "Is that –?"
She nodded, setting down her pepperoni with a careful frown, straightening her spine as she faced the door. "I think so."
There were noises of a key jangling against the lock, and after two tries and a few curses, the door was flung open to reveal Merlin and Arthur, wearing sweatpants and messy hair, Gwaine noted with pleasure. He noted with less pleasure that they were screaming bloody murder at one another.
"I can't believe I wanted to live with you in Vienna –"
"You can't believe? I can't believe all those godawful mushy texts I sent you. Delete those immediately."
"Oh, it would be my pleasure –"
"Boys," Morgana cut in smoothly. The two got out of each other's personal space long enough to simultaneously snap "What?" before resuming their glaring contest.
"Mind telling us what's going on?"
"What's going on?" Arthur took a predatory step forward. "What's going on? What's going on is that the two of you cooked up some master scheme to get the two of us together, and guess what? We figured it out. God, I bet you were laughing at us the entire thing, letting us think we were in love…"
Gwaine's face split into a chuckling grin. "Uh, aren't you?"
"No!"
"Again with the simultaneous speech," Gwaine gave Morgana a knowing look. He wasn't worried. He couldn't be worried – this was all going too brilliantly for words. This would be a story to tell his grandchildren. Or Merlin and Arthur's grandchildren.
"Why the hell would you let us think that for six whole months?" Merlin's eyes flashed with ferocity. Ooh, Merlin angry was always a fun time. "I mean, your little joke only really needed to last a day. You could have told us – when we had dinner that night or something! It would have been a hell of a lot funnier."
"It wasn't a joke!" Morgana cut in with a roll of her eyes and wild gesticulating of her hands. "We thought the two of you had a lot of sexual – and romantic – tension. And we were perfectly aware you'd never do anything about it yourselves, so we just wanted to…help you along a little bit."
"By letting us think we were in love?" Arthur growled.
"Notice how you're saying we," Gwaine pointed out with his trademark shit eating smile. "As in, both of you were in love. Are in love. You are in love with him, right? And Merlin, you're in love with Arthur? I mean, you wouldn't have gotten together otherwise. And living together in Vienna? That's not something you do unless you're in love. Congratulations, by the way, we'll have to celebrate later."
"I don't –"
"I'm not –"
"Oh, shut up and kiss, the both of you," Morgana took another slice of pizza, and managed to fit a rather impressive part of it into her mouth without even staining her lipstick. "This is very simple. Arthur, do you want to live in Vienna with Merlin?"
"I – that's beside the point!" Arthur said hotly.
"No, it's not, answer the question," Morgana crossed her legs and raised an expectant eyebrow. "Do you want to live in Vienna with Merlin?"
"I – well, yes – but that was before I knew –"
"Nope, stop talking," Morgana shut him down with a hand motion. Gwaine stared, fascinated. He had to learn how to do that. "Now, Merlin – do you want to live in Vienna with Arthur?"
"I wouldn't have invited him if I didn't –"
"See?" Morgana interrupted with a hearty laugh, and Gwaine was suddenly, violently reminded of how she was most definitely the smartest person in the room. "It's that simple. The two of you are in love. We just…meddled a bit."
Merlin and Arthur, Gwaine noticed with half apprehension and half fascination, met each other's eyes for the first time since they had begun their explanation. They were softening around the edges, somehow, becoming less tense, and Gwaine already was congratulating himself (and Morgana) on a job well done.
"I – do you really…" Merlin met the urge to brush Arthur's bangs away from his eyes. "Are we really…"
"Doing this in front of Gwaine and Morgana?" A smile played on Arthur's lips and he hoped Merlin couldn't hear how hard his heart was beating. "I think so."
"I do – I want to live you," Merlin said softly, mouth moving closer to Arthur's ear. "I want to wake up next to you and know that later that day I'll fall asleep next to you."
"And I want to send you stupid, sappy texts when I should be working," Arthur whispered back.
Suddenly, as if by a magnetic force pulling them closer and closer together before snapping them into one, they were kissing.
Clench.
Unclench.
(Heart.)