2. Tipsy
Arthur took off his armour and relaxed his shoulders. A good time in the pub was just what he needed. Maybe he could get Merlin to open up a bit, he seemed a bit, well, shy. Not very shy, but… Arthur frowned. It was like Merlin was keeping something from him and was afraid of what he would think if he shared it. Well, they say alcohol loosens the tongue… He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. Sexy. Then he laughed. Why was he trying to be sexy? Merlin was obviously not interested in him like that… but to think that the possibility might be out of the question was a reality too horrible to contemplate. He left his hair ruffled and headed to the pub.
It was reasonably busy when they arrived and took their seats at the bar. Whilst Merlin ordered drinks, Arthur looked at him. Merlin had ruffled his hair as well, and it suited him in a really cute, yet terribly attractive way. He really wanted to run his hands through that hair. He was not shy by any standards, he would have easily run his hands through Merlin's hair without a second thought… but Merlin was more sensitive – what if he took it wrongly? He kept his hands to himself, and occupied them with holding his mug as soon as it arrived, to stop them straying.
"Is the marshmallow thing still on for tomorrow then?"
"Yes, of course. Sorry I forgot the marshmallows, I'll get them as soon as possible."
"Don't apologise." Actually, do, you look so adorable when you do that. "I've got some myself, I told you earlier. There's loads, don't bother with getting some more."
"Right."
"You said there was a special twist to this particular marshmallow toasting?" It was so hard to say that without being suggestive. He inwardly congratulated himself on his self-control. He had to admit his thoughts hadn't been innocent when Merlin had first said that to him… but it probably meant nothing more than a really large fire or something.
"Yeah," Merlin replied quietly. Was he blushing? Arthur sincerely hoped he was, but quickly dismissed the thought.
"Well – what is it?"
"It's in progress." He looked thoughtful. Arthur subdued a sigh of impatience in a yawn. He wanted to know what this twist was more than he would like to admit. In progress? What, are you trying to win me over? That's not in progress, that was done ages ago… Baby, I'm already yours. The suspense was killing him. Alcohol loosens the tongue, he thought.
"Two more drinks, please," he said to the bartender.
"But I haven't even finished this one!" Merlin protested beside him.
Arthur had a split second to produce his grin. Not a smile, that would be too little and appear sad, as if he needed to drown his sorrows in as much alcohol as he could get. Not too big and overly happy, or that would look weird. Not cheeky, because god knows what Merlin would do if he thought Arthur was flirting with him. Just a big friendly grin saying, "Yeah, I know. Alcohol's great, isn't it?" It worked. Merlin quickly drained his drink and began on the new one. Arthur did the same, hoping his liver was better at alcohol that Merlin's, he didn't want to be drunk himself because he needed to remember whatever information he could wheedle out of Merlin for future reference.
For the first half an hour he let the conversation drift around casual topics, Christmas, family, food, and then once Merlin began on his third drink (a slightly stronger one than the second and first) he decided to begin his interrogation. But as soon as he had decided to do this, he realised he didn't know how to go about it. How would he even approach what he wanted to ask? Come straight out with it – Are you hiding something? Do you like me? And how to do it subtly? You seem a bit reserved recently, Merlin. But he hadn't, that was the problem. He had always been reserved – that was the problem. Arthur shook his head inwardly, realising his plan wasn't going to work. But it appeared he wouldn't have got a lot of sense out of Merlin anyway, for one glance told Arthur that Merlin was well on the way to being very drunk indeed. Well that solved the liver question, Arthur thought, amused. God, was Merlin actually giggling? He looked so sweet. He should get drunk more often.
"Arthur, did you know Dragon has a cold?" he spluttered out, swaying slightly.
"No…" Arthur laughed. "Merlin, I do believe you are quite drunk."
"No, n-no I'm not!" he exclaimed.
"So what's the surprise at our marshmallow feast? Are you bringing girls?"
"NO!" He sounded adamant, and that made Arthur feel better instantly.
"So what's the surprise?"
But Merlin was far too drunk to answer two questions in a row. He mumbled something incoherent and practically fell off his stool, would have fallen, in fact, if Arthur hadn't quickly jumped off his own stool and caught Merlin mid tilt before putting him on his feet. However, Merlin seemed to be unable to support himself, and leant on Arthur for support, still smiling drunkenly. Arthur hardly objected, but he knew that if Merlin at any point sobered slightly and realised what was happening he might be very embarrassed indeed. He lifted him considerately back onto his stool, and watched as he slumped forward over the bar, before turning his head to look at Arthur. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that really suited him. Arthur smiled. And then Merlin's eyes changed colour briefly from blue to golden and then back again. Arthur pinched himself, but didn't really feel it. He must be slightly drunk himself. Merlin's eyes kept flashing golden now, again and again, and he was laughing freely. Arthur loved this new, relaxed Merlin, but was slightly worried about his own state, as he was officially having delusions about Merlin's changing eye colour. Then Merlin swayed again, and managed to slip off his stool and onto the floor. Well that wouldn't do. Arthur slid his arms under the poor drunk, and carried him out of the bar. Sure, they were both drunk, and Arthur hadn't found out anything he wanted to know, but hey, there was always some good to be made out of such situations. Like now, with Merlin huddled against him.
He crossed over a small courtyard, and as he walked he realised that Merlin's bare hand was resting lightly on his bare chest. Bare chest? How had that happened? It seemed at least five buttons had undone themselves… no, popped off his shirt since he had left the pub, and his shirt was hanging open. How had that happened? Ah well never mind why, it felt great. A big grin spread across Arthur's face. Oh, he hoped Merlin wouldn't remember this.
