ooo
FEBRUARY
ooo
Monday, February 1
"Mr. Pendragon?"
Arthur looked up from the progress reports he had been staring at for the past half hour, meeting the eyes of his assistant George, the dullest man on the planet.
"Yes?" Arthur asked cautiously. George never came into his office like this – he was annoyingly proper like that – so whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
George opened his mouth, then closed it. Not for the first time, Arthur was reminded of a fish out of water, all wide eyes awkward angles, flopping around on the ground… and he realised that there was only one person that could make George look like that.
Arthur sighed. "What does he want this time?"
George's eye twitched.
"Fine," Arthur said, rising heavily from his desk. "I'll find out for myself."
He may as well. After all, nothing good ever came of keeping Uther Pendragon waiting.
Arthur walked past George out of his office, through the open space where his employees worked. Several people looked up as he passed but he did not stop to talk, keeping his back straight and his steps even.
Would he ever be able to approach his father without feeling as if he was facing a judge and jury?
"Ah, Arthur," Uther said the moment Arthur entered his office, not looking up from his screen. "I want to speak to you about those last quarterly reports. I believe there are even more cuts to be made."
Arthur sighed and closed the door. This was going to be a long day.
ooo
At half five that evening, Arthur clocked out. If he hurried to his car, he knew he could make it home by six, just in time to catch the second half of the Tottenham vs. Southampton game. He'd heat up a portion of the beef casserole he cooked over the weekend, maybe have a beer (that meeting with his father had left him with a bit of a headache), and look over those reports before getting an early night.
Arthur nodded to himself absently, satisfied that his evening was planned out.
That was when his phone buzzed. He looked down to find a text from Merlin:
So I'm running that mile today. Want to join me?
Arthur smiled.
ooo
An hour later, Arthur was not watching Tottenham destroy Southampton. Instead, he found himself jogging through Regent Park as Merlin puffed beside him, wheezing, "How much further?" every 10 seconds, having Arthur in stitches from laughing.
"You-" Arthur gasped (because of laughter, not because running a mile had been any kind of a hardship for him - he was a footballer, after all!), "-have the worst stamina of anyone I have ever met-" he paused to catch his breath, "-in my entire life." As they stopped, his hands found his knees and he tried to steady his breathing. "And that includes Morgana, who I suspect has her personal assistant picking up her remote for her."
Merlin only scowled over the top of his water bottle as his throat worked, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "My stamina's just fine," he grumbled when he was finally done drinking - and Arthur blamed the adrenaline for the unexpected way those words affected him.
"Right," Arthur said, snatching the water bottle out of Merlin's hand, ignoring the way their fingers brushed (and why had he even noticed that in the first place?). "Just promise me that Join a track team isn't going to be an item on your list."
Merlin rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
Later, as they walked back through the park to get to the exit, Merlin bumped his shoulder against Arthur's. "Thanks for coming with me today."
Arthur shrugged. It really hadn't felt like a favour - in fact, now that he thought about it, he'd jumped at the chance to get a break from his usually so comfortable routine. He had been so honoured that Merlin had chosen to share this list experience with him, if only for a little bit, and hadn't wanted to miss out.
"So what's tomorrow?" Arthur asked, trying to sound casual. This was Merlin's list, after all, and even though he'd shared it with Arthur, Arthur didn't want to impose, as fun as today had been.
Merlin was silent for a moment. Then, "You choose."
Arthur could not have held back his grin if he tried. Someone was going to get their house teepeed. He hoped Merlin would let him choose the house.
Day 2:
Accidentally join Merlin's strange little game.
ooo
Saturday, February 6
Arthur had never had this much fun in his life. Since that Monday afternoon in the park, he and Merlin had actually filled a man's yard with toilet paper (he didn't know who he was, apparently some old boss of Merlin's who'd let him off. It'd been worth it though, for the look of delight on Merlin's face) and run away like a pair of 12-year olds, and had eaten 20 Twinkies each (they had completely cleaned out the stock of the tiny supermarket around the corner from Arthur's flat which randomly sold American candy), and on Friday night Merlin had met him in a pub and moaned about still not having done something new (Arthur strongly suspected that Merlin had waited for him to get off work before doing anything), so Arthur had dragged him onto the table for an impromptu strip tease - which, while seemingly a big hit with the female clientele, unsurprisingly got them thrown out on their arses before they'd even unbuckled their trousers.
"Stripping in public and getting tossed out of a pub, that was two new things in a day!" Merlin had exclaimed delightedly as he pulled his shirt back on in the alleyway, and Arthur had roared with laughter before slinging his arm around Merlin's shoulder and taking him to a different pub, not giving himself pause to wonder what on earth had possessed the polite, controlled Arthur Pendragon to start taking his clothes off in public.
Now it was Saturday, and he and Merlin were lying head-to-toe on Arthur's sofa, both too hungover to do much except stare at the TV and occasionally grunt at each other.
Technically, Arthur had told Merlin, he didn't need to do anything new today - Merlin had slept over on Arthur's sofa after their night out, and it'd been the first time he'd done that. But Merlin had argued that this didn't really count, as he'd slept over on other people's sofas before. Arthur had then argued that if they were going get that specific then a lot of the points on Merlin's list would be invalid - like, karaoke, he had said, would basically just be like singing in the shower, which he'd be willing to bet that Merlin had done before - and it might have all escalated into a big argument except they were both too tired to really do much more than shove a bit at each other's feet, and then Arthur might have fallen asleep for a bit.
When he woke up, the sun was beginning to set and Merlin was sitting up on the sofa, putting on his shoes.
"Oh," Merlin said, noticing that Arthur was looking at him. "Sorry, did I wake you? I was just..."
"Going off to do your new thing without me?" Arthur asked. And he hadn't meant it to come out accusatory, really, but his voice was kind of raspy from sleep... and okay, maybe it was a little bit accusatory.
Merlin winced. "I figured you'd want me to leave though, eventually."
Arthur opened his mouth, but his brain caught up to him just in time, and he closed it again. No, actually, I'd rather you didn't was probably not something he should be saying out loud, no matter how groggy and hungover and therefore clearly out of his right mind he could claim to be.
Merlin patted Arthur's leg, and Arthur frowned, staring down where Merlin had touched him. "It's fine, I probably don't have the energy for something wild and exciting. I'll text you on Monday, yeah?"
And before Arthur was able to collect his thoughts enough to respond, Merlin had slipped out of his flat, as though he'd never been there at all.
Swinging his legs over the side of the sofa, wondering vaguely if a shower might make him think more clearly, Arthur noticed a glass of water and pack of paracetamol on the coffee table, which Merlin had clearly put there for him.
Suddenly, his flat felt very empty.
Day 7:
Consider the merits of getting a flatmate?
Consider asking Merlin to move in?
Wake up next to Merlin.
ooo
Sunday, February 7
Arthur almost texted Merlin three times on Sunday, but stopped himself, finger hovering over the Send button.
Hey mate, want to hang out later? x A
What's the new thing for today then? Need some suggestions? x A
How's it going? x A
He deleted them all, throwing his phone aside in disgust. After the third time, it actually began to ring as it hit the sofa cushion, and Arthur lunged for it, convinced that Merlin must somehow have developed the magical power of sensing when someone was texting him.
But to his disappointment, it was only Morgana. He briefly considered just not answering - but Morgana did seem to have magical powers, these of detecting when someone was deliberately ignoring her calls, and Arthur was not up for facing her wrath.
"Hey Morgana," he said, putting the phone to his ear.
"Dinner tonight?" Came the crisp reply. Morgana was never one for wasting time with pleasantries.
Arthur sighed. One day without seeing Merlin really wouldn't kill him, he reminded himself - god, he was being pathetic. "Yeah, sure. Your place?"
"No, that little sushi place near your office. I want you to meet Leon."
Day 8:
Meet Morgana's new boyfriend.
Leon turned out to be brilliant. He played football like Arthur himself, he had a solid job - and most importantly, he was the most chilled-out guy Arthur had ever met. He was perfect for Morgana, who tended to get very high-strung and shrill (not that Arthur would ever tell her this to her face - he valued his private parts too much), and Arthur found himself really hoping that this one would stick.
After dinner, Arthur decided to walk home again - it was becoming a bit of a habit. As he walked, he glanced up at the sky. It was an icy cold but clear night, and even through the bright lights of the city, Arthur could make out a few stars.
Sleep under the stars, one of the points on Merlin's list read. Arthur thought once again of texting Merlin, or calling him. It had gone 11, and he was very curious if Merlin had done any of the points on his list yet - and if it was one of the ones that Arthur had been looking forward to doing, too.
The rational part of Arthur told him that he really could just do whatever he wanted on his own, or with one of his friends. And he certainly didn't need a weird little one-a-day system.
But... as surprisingly liberating as it was, doing all of these random little things, it turned out that half of the fun was doing them with Merlin.
Arthur still wasn't sure what it was about the other man that had him so... transfixed, for lack of a better word. Really, they had nothing in common. Even after spending the better part of the past week with Merlin, no secret shared past experiences had been revealed.
Merlin had grown up with cats in his house, Arthur had never had pets. Merlin had gone to public school, Arthur had spent most of his youth at boarding or private schools. Merlin was an only child and had been raised by his overprotective mum, while Arthur had been raised by his emotionally stunted, workaholic father, with his half-sister Morgana as his only companion for most of his childhood. And so the list of dissimilarities went on, and they didn't really share any hobbies or interests, either. Except, apparently, for doing random, childish things in the name of seizing the day.
And yet... they never lacked for things to talk about. It wasn't just about The List, as exciting as it was to plan their small adventures and carry them out. Arthur just found himself enjoying Merlin's company, it was as simple as that. And really, he had to admit to himself, he couldn't remember feeling like that with anyone before. He loved Morgana to death, but she was his sister, so he really had no choice in the matter. His friends were great, but they'd bonded over football and beer and other terribly cliché, impersonal things. And the handful of serious girlfriends he'd had had been fun, and attractive, sure… but that had been it, really.
Vivian had been the daughter of his father's colleague; a spoilt, upper-class girl who only really cared about what Arthur could do for her social status and how he looked on her arm. Sophia had been sweet at first, almost saccharinely so, drawing Arthur in with her wide, innocent eyes... but she'd turned out to be right bitch, much to the surprise of no one but Arthur himself. Mithian, by contrast, had been absolutely lovely, but there had never really been any spark between them. They'd just met, dated, and fizzled out without any great drama or fanfare. One day over dinner she had told him, very calmly, that she thought it was time to end things. And Arthur had, very calmly, agreed, and that had been that. But now Merlin, on the other hand...
Hold on.
Arthur shook his head. It must be the cold, or the wine he'd had at dinner. He was not comparing Merlin to his past girlfriends.
Merlin was a breath of fresh air, someone so different from Arthur's other acquaintances, and he challenged Arthur in ways Arthur had never been challenged before. Merlin was great - a great friend. A great male friend.
Arthur very resolutely did not think about Merlin for the rest of the night, and he did not text him to ask about his stupid list.
ooo
Monday, February 8
He checked his phone compulsively all day.
When he woke up that morning, Arthur checked his phone - no new messages. He had a quick shower and as he ate his breakfast, he checked his phone again - no new messages.
He checked it again on the tube - one new message, a text from George reminding him of his 10-o'clock with Mr O'Reilly.
He checked it during his 10-o'clock with Mr O'Reilly, too. No new messages.
It was the same at lunch, and all afternoon (he gave up the pretense, in the end, and just put the phone on his desk where he could keep an eye on it).
By the time 5 pm rolled around and Arthur was getting ready to leave for the day, he was beginning to suspect that his phone might be broken. Until it buzzed, and he picked it up eagerly, only to see a text from Morgana.
Leon asks if you and your mates need a center forward. And yes, I know what that means, you sexist pig. Love you -M
Arthur snorted. Of course she knew what that meant; Morgana was the one who taught him football in the first place, back when he was six and she was eight and their parents had just moved in together. It was, in retrospect, how they'd stopped resenting each other purely on principle and had actually begun to feel like family.
Tell him yes! We play every other Sat, park by my house, 10am, so don't dump him before then. I'd invite you to play but that would shatter your illusions about my sexist pigishness. x A
He only had to wait a few seconds for her reply.
I feel like my whole life has been a lie. Also, this will be easier if I just give him your number. -M
Arthur put the phone back in his pocket, a smile on his face. He didn't need Merlin, really. His life was great the way it was.
After a moment, his phone buzzed again, and Arthur pulled it out, fully expecting it to be Leon. But it was Merlin.
Damn his heart for jumping into his throat without his permission. It was just Merlin. Arthur forced himself to calm down, opening the message as he stepped into the lift.
Have decided karaoke is totally different from singing in the shower, and therefore counts. u in?
Arthur caught his reflection in the mirror of the lift door. He was grinning like a maniac.
When and where? x A
Day 9:
Completely embarrass self (and Merlin) by belting out the lyrics to "Walking in Memphis" at shady karaoke bar (+ accidentally reveal the intimate knowledge of said lyrics to Merlin and fellow patrons of shady karaoke bar).
The day before, Merlin had revealed as they got ready to leave the bar and head their separate ways, he had gone to see a Czech movie about a clockmaker at a small independent theater. It'd been dull, Merlin had said, and had then admitted that he wished Arthur had been there.
Arthur only laughed and told him he wouldn't have wasted his time on such a lame thing anyway. But truthfully, he was pretty sure that if he and Merlin had gone to see it together, it would have been neither lame nor dull.
He didn't really know what to do with that realisation though, so he kept it to himself and said goodnight, turning back to watch Merlin pull his beanie down over his ears and walk in the opposite direction, shoulders hunched against the cold and hands buried deep in his too-large coat.
ooo
Thursday, February 11
"I have a question," Arthur said a few days later, warming his hands on a mug of coffee and leaning closer to Merlin across the table of the small, bustling cafe they had darted into to escape the suddenly heavy snowfall.
Merlin looked up from his hot chocolate, giving Arthur an inquisitive look. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold and chunks of snow still matted his hair, but his eyes sparkled.
They'd been walking around the city aimlessly that afternoon as snow fell lightly around them, talking about whatever, when Merlin had suddenly bent down and scooped up a large amount of (questionably coloured) snow and hurtled it at Arthur's face before running off into a small park, howling with laughter. This had quickly escalated into a full-blown snowball fight, which had left them both laughing and breathless and shivering with cold; they hadn't even noticed that snow had started to fall more heavily until they realised they could hardly see each other even though they were only ever a few feet apart.
Thus they had ended up here; the owner of the cafe had politely informed them to hang up their soaking coats by the door, and Arthur was hoping to prolong their stay long enough for their clothes to at least marginally dry off.
"I might have an answer if you ever actually ask me," Merlin prompted, kicking Arthur lightly under the table – and then letting his foot rest lightly against Arthur's leg rather than pulling away. Arthur shivered, which was strange, since it was actually very warm in here.
"Your list," Arthur said, gesturing to the diary which was currently laid out on the table in front of them as they reviewed their choices (and Merlin added Spontaneous snowball fight (as an adult) under today's date), "I realised the other day... it's mostly small things, isn't it?"
"Your point being?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just that, well, don't you want to do something bigger too? Like set foot on all seven continents, or see a yeti, or something?"
Merlin laughed. "You've been reading bucket lists online, haven't you?"
Arthur's cheeks flushed. "Have not," he grumbled – but he totally had. He couldn't help it; doing all of this with Merlin had made him curious about what would be on his own list, if he had on. And he'd looked for inspiration, and noticed that most lists he found involved traveling, or setting big life goals. Merlin's goals seemed to be small, insignificant. He hadn't thought about it before.
"I guess this isn't really a traditional bucket list," Merlin admitted, taking another sip of his cocoa. "It's not like I'm setting myself up for anything big... I just decided it had to be small, doable things. Just to keep my life moving, make sure I didn't miss out on the little things in life. Didn't hold myself back from doing what I wanted to." Merlin raised his eyes to meet Arthur's, but he didn't elaborate.
And Arthur had to admit, that made sense. "So no seeing the Grand Canyon tomorrow then?" Arthur joked.
Merlin snorted. "Not unless you're paying. Not that I want you to," he hastened to add, looking alarmed.
Right. That was probably another reason for the tasks being small. They didn't really talk about it, but Arthur was pretty sure that Merlin didn't have a lot of money. He was an art student on sabbatical, after all – and Arthur could tell after the first five minutes of being in his company that Merlin didn't come from old money like himself. Merlin was far too... free.
"Swimming with dolphins though," Arthur noted, pointing to the list. "Can you even do that here?"
"No, I looked into it," Merlin grumbled. "Apparently you used to be able to, but now they're all wild and up in Scotland. I really wanted to do it though." He moved the pen to cross it off the list, but Arthur stilled his hand with his own. Merlin looked down to their hands in surprise before looking up.
Arthur cleared his throat, removing his hand slowly, ignoring how his fingers tingled. "No, don't. I mean, these are just ideas, right? Maybe the opportunity will magically arise before your year is up."
"Never say never, right?" Merlin asked, so softly that Arthur almost didn't hear him over the noise in the cafe. He was still holding Arthur's gaze.
"Right," Arthur replied, suddenly not sure what they were even talking about.
Merlin smiled, and put a question mark next to Swimming with dolphins before shutting the book and making some comment about the terrible décor of the cafe.
Day 12:
Find a way for Merlin to swim with dolphins.
ooo
Wednesday, February 17
Lunch with Morgana was, Arthur thought, very different from lunch with Merlin. Where Merlin was all fun, open smiles, being the focus of Morgana's attention had always made Arthur feel a little like he was on display. He loved her, but she had a way about her that was just... very intense sometimes. And today was no exception.
"How is your imaginary friend doing?" Morgana smiled wryly as she raised her glass of cremant in a mock salute before taking a sip.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "You've met Merlin, Morgana, he can hardly be imaginary." He picked at his carpaccio; it was wonderful as usual, of course, but lunches with Morgana tended to leave him strangely devoid of appetite.
Morgana had no such problem, devouring her stuffed prawns at such a speed, Arthur wondered - not for the first time - how she managed to always look so poised and elegant. "I've met Merlin, yes, but the man you've been spending all your time with hardly sounds like the same person," she shrugged. "Could it be that two unfortunate souls in this country have parents so cruel as to name their child after a silly old wizard with a long white beard?"
"You need to stop watching Disney movies, Morgana," Arthur grumbled, strangely offended on Merlin's behalf.
"My point is, Arthur, that the Merlin I know from our brief acquaintance is a shy, albeit charming art student overwhelmed by all that the scary big city has to offer." She paused, seemingly for the sole purpose of raising a carefully plucked eyebrow at him. Morgana always liked her dramatics. "He certainly isn't this wild karaoke-singing, graffiti-painting deviant you've been describing for the past half hour."
"It's not like that," Arthur shook his head, needing for some reason to stick up for Merlin. He tried not to think of it as protecting his virtue. "Merlin is... carefree." Was that right though? Arthur suddenly wondered. Merlin was a lot of things: impulsive, adventurous, fun... but carefree? Somehow that didn't feel right. Even though they never talked about it, there was definitely something about Merlin, ghosts in his closet, that Arthur sort of hoped he'd tell him about in his own time.
Some of Arthur's uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Morgana's look turned searching. "Honesty Arthur, what do you really know about him? I know he's Gwen's friend, and I love Gwen to pieces, but he's practically a stranger to you."
"Careful Morgana, I'd almost say you were concerned about me." Now it was Arthur's turn to raise an eyebrow; he'd learned from the best.
"Don't deflect," Morgana waved her fork, prawn and all, and Arthur absently marveled that she managed not to spray any sauce at all. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost say you were..."
She considered Arthur for a long moment and Arthur found himself fidgeting, feeling strangely like Morgana was seeing him more clearly than he'd like. He hated it when she did that.
"What?" He said at last, prickly, wishing she'd stop.
"Nothing," she said at last, shaking her head with a small smile as she (finally) bit into the prawn still hanging from her fork. "Never mind, dear brother. Eat your food."
So he did, trying to ignore the puzzled looks Morgana kept shooting him. She didn't bring up Merlin again though, instead turning the topic of conversation to Uther's upcoming birthday and what they should get him, and Arthur was glad.
He felt, strangely, that he didn't want to discuss Merlin with her - he liked that the stuff he and Merlin did together stayed just between the two of them, safe from Morgana's scrutiny.
ooo
Friday, February 19
That Friday night, Merlin and Arthur went to The Great Dragon. It was a pub on the other side of town, apparently famous for its many different shots with medieval names and probably unspeakable ingredients.
And Merlin and Arthur were trying all of them.
"This is a bad idea," Arthur grimaced as the bartender – an old, decidedly creepy gentleman whose name tag only read "The Dragon" (and wasn't that just a promising sign of his sanity?) who kept staring at them – put two shots that were apparently called 'Valiants' in front of them. They were green, seaweed-looking things, and if Arthur didn't know better he'd have said they hissed at him. But then he had just had a shot of 'The King's Tears,' and he wouldn't really have been surprised if it'd contained hallucinogenics. "I have football practice in the morning."
"Then go home," Merlin challenged, his words only slightly slurred as he picked up his shot and looked at Arthur expectantly. "Leave me here alone to drink aaalllll these shots by myself. I'm sure creepy bartender guy will take good care of me." He winked at Arthur, and Arthur narrowed his eyes as he picked up his own shot and downed it in one, not even tasting it.
"As if I'd leave you here. That man looks like he'd chop you up in so many pieces they'd never find the body," Arthur snarled. Merlin rolled his eyes but looked oddly cheerful as he downed his own shot – only to be left coughing, and Arthur patted his back sympathetically.
"Didn't know you cared that much," Merlin wheezed out between coughs, and now it was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes.
"I don't. I just find you oddly entertaining," he quipped. "Entertain me, peasant!"
"How drunk are you?" Merlin asked, his eyes narrowed, but he was smiling. "Am I gonna have to carry you home?" They were on their seventh shot – the bar served thirty different kinds. Arthur doubted either of them would be in any position to carry anything by the end of the night, but he thought it better not to talk about that. His hangover was gonna be epic. He sent out a silent apology to his future self.
Instead he signalled to the barman again. "Best just make this simple," he said as the man ambled over, twirling an old-looking coin between his fingers and leering at them. "Give us all the remaining kinds of shots. One of each," he added, and held up a hand as Merlin opened his mouth to protest. "The list said you had to try all the different shots, Merlin, not drink it all. Your liver will thank you."
"Fine," Merlin sighed. "But I'm only bending the rules this once, you know."
The barman said nothing during their little exchange, and as he walked away, Arthur thought he caught a whiff of something burning – but it turned out to be the next shot coming their way, which was apparently a 'Dragon Lord.'
He let Merlin have the first sip before trying it himself. "Huh," Arthur said, smacking his lips, "not bad, actually."
"Oh hey," Merlin slurred suddenly, leaning closer to Arthur, and Arthur found himself leaning in, too, until he could feel Merlin's breath on his cheek. "That girl has been eyeing you all night."
"What girl?" Arthur asked stupidly, blinking a few times in confusion until he realised that Merlin was signalling with his eyes.
Arthur turned, following the movement (not at all cottoning on to the fact that Merlin was trying to be subtle), and found himself meeting the eyes of a very pretty blonde. She was sitting with a group of what must be her friends, but even in his drunken state Arthur could see that she had eyes only for him. She gave him a small wave and a smile, biting down on her lip as though she was shy about the whole thing.
"Huh," he said, wondering why that didn't excite him in the least. Usually when he was out with mates, he'd be ditching them in a moment if a pretty girl came along, but tonight... "Come on, we've still got like ten shots to try," Arthur said briskly, elbowing Merlin as he turned back to the bar - ignoring the puzzled look Merlin flashed him. "Well, unless you want to...?" Arthur let the question trail off, his head tilting to indicate the group of girls again.
Merlin's cheeks coloured. Arthur found himself distracted by his ears, which were turning redder by the moment. "Nah," Merlin grinned. "I've been dying to try the 'Poisoned Chalice.' I want to know if it has actual poison in it."
Arthur snorted. "I wouldn't put it past the crazy bartender. We'll drink this one at the same time, yeah?"
Day 20:
Ignore advances of pretty girl. While single.
By the time they'd made it through all 30 shots, Arthur could hardly see straight. He was pretty sure he'd proclaimed five different shots his absolute favourite (they started to taste better the drunker he got, incidentally), including the 'Excalibur' and the 'Dragon Lord,' but in the end, he was pretty sure the 'Warlock's Staff' was the winner. This had, for some reason, had Merlin in stitches. Arthur really did not see what was so funny about it.
Merlin had been partial to the cryptically titled 'Once and Future,' himself, which seemed to be golden and kind of glow (Arthur did not want to know how the bartender had managed that particular effect. He'd probably poured in the contents of a glow stick or something). He'd also liked the 'Lady of the Lake,' so Arthur had let him have most of that one – he privately thought that this one really did taste like seaweed.
Arthur didn't fully realise the extent of his inebriation until he made to stand up. "Whoooa," he said, eyes wide as he used the bar to steady himself. He still kept tilting forward as if an invisible force was pushing him, and kept almost falling onto Merlin, who was still sitting down and giggling at Arthur's antics.
Merlin looked to be about as drunk as Arthur – and certainly a lot better than he had 20 minutes ago, when the shot of 'Goblin's Gold' had made them both feel rather sick.
"Will you gents be needing a taxi?" A gravelly voice spoke, and both Merlin and Arthur jumped – they hadn't noticed the barman walk over.
"Please," Merlin got out between giggles. "I don't think this one would make it five feet without slipping and breaking his neck."
"Damn snow," Arthur mumbled against Merlin's shoulder, which had suddenly seemed like a great place to rest his head – even if it was a little bony. "I want the summer back."
Merlin patted his head. "Enjoy it while it lasts, summer will come soon enough," he mumbled, his voice close to Arthur's ear. He suddenly sounded a lot more sober, and a little sad.
But Arthur didn't have time to ponder it, because the bartender was asking them questions again, and being generally annoying, because Arthur really was rather comfortable where he was, thank you very much.
ooo
They stumbled into Arthur's apartment - Arthur had no idea how they'd managed to make it all the way up there after the cabbie had dropped them off - collapsing in giggles against each other in the darkened hallway.
Arthur grabbed onto Merlin's shirt as he stumbled forward, groaning when Merlin's back hit the wall and Arthur half fell into him. One of Arthur's hands found purchase on the wall next to Merlin's head and he used it to lever himself to an upright position, finding Merlin's eyes in the near darkness.
His laughter died on his lips as Merlin's hand came out to steady him and landed on his hip.
Arthur felt Merlin's breath on his face, and in an instant he felt more sober than he had all night. He couldn't look away from Merlin's eyes if he wanted to, and the sound of their ragged breathing filled his head.
Merlin's hand tightened on his hip.
"Merlin," Arthur whispered, feeling both drunk and sober all at once. He wasn't sure what was going on, he felt confused, disoriented - but every part of him that was touching Merlin was suddenly on fire, and his head was spinning with something other than alcohol. He leaned forward-
Only to feel a hand pushing gently against his chest.
"I think I might regret this tomorrow," Merlin whispered, so quiet Arthur wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it, "but... we can't do this, Arthur."
"Why not?" Arthur found himself murmuring, his face so close to Merlin's that he felt his nose brush against the other man's cheek.
Merlin's breath hitched. "A hundred reasons. But let's say it's because we've already done our new thing today." There it was again, that sad tone, and Arthur found that he hated it. He never wanted Merlin to feel sad.
"It's past midnight though," Arthur mumbled, letting Merlin push him back even while still holding onto the front of Merlin's shirt, not completely sure what he wanted but knowing with complete certainty that he wanted. "It's a new day."
Merlin sighed. "You're completely wasted, aren't you?"
"So are you," Arthur tried to argue, swaying slightly where he stood. When had the room started spinning?
"Exactly." Merlin still sounded sad. Why was he sad? This night was awesome. Whoa, Arthur was so tired. Merlin looked soft... would he be a nice pillow? "Go to sleep, Arthur, you're rambling," Merlin whispered, and Arthur frowned. Had he said that out loud?
The last thing he remembered was Merlin pushing a giant glass of water into his hand, and then pushing Arthur into bed. He swore he felt the covers being tucked around him, too, but before he could open his eyes again to see if it was really happening, he had drifted off to sleep.
ooo
Saturday, February 20
When Arthur's alarm clock went off at 9 the next morning (damn football practice), Arthur couldn't remember anything past the 'Aithusa' shot. He did, however, feel oddly disappointed, for no apparent reason.
He groaned loudly, rolling out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom for a quick shower. He was going to need a lot of coffee before being able to do any kind of physical activity today.
The fact that he wasn't completely wrecked though told him that at some point before going to sleep last night, he must have drunk a lot of water. And as he never remembered to do that after a night out...
He edged out of the bathroom and made his way down the hallway - and sure enough, there Merlin was, curled up asleep on the sofa. Arthur smiled, the sight strangely soothing.
Arthur watched Merlin for another moment, then moved into the kitchen. He started making coffee and breakfast as quietly as he could, intending to let Merlin sleep while he went off to practice - they didn't both have to suffer, after all.
But a yawn behind him alerted him to Merlin's presence. "Do I smell bacon?" Merlin asked sleepily, and Arthur could hear the smile in his voice even without turning around.
"The breakfast of kings, Merlin," Arthur grinned. "I might not let you have any."
"Oy," Merlin protested, and Arthur turned around – and his retort died on his lips. Because while he was sure that he himself probably didn't look like his best self, Merlin looked like absolute death.
He was pale, and his eyes seemed sunken as he leaned against the doorframe, and though he was smiling he looked beyond exhausted.
"Holy shit," Arthur breathed, breakfast forgotten as he moved towards Merlin automatically, wrapping his hands around the other man's shoulders. "You look like you're gonna keel over."
Merlin huffed out a breath which Arthur thought might have been meant as a laugh. "Yeah, didn't sleep well. Not to insult your sofa or anything."
Arthur shook his head, "you're an idiot, Merlin, I could have slept on the sofa. Or you could have just slept on the bed with me, it's more than big enough."
He ignored the way he felt his cheeks heat up as he said that, because really, this was a very inappropriate time to get awkward.
"Er," Merlin said, looking a little uncomfortable himself – and Arthur might have moved away from him, except he looked so fragile, he couldn't make himself let go. "I'll do that next time."
"Yeah, you will," Arthur said forcefully. "But for now, you are going to go lie down. I'll bring you something to eat, because you need it. And then I'm gonna go to football practice, and when I return-"
"No," Merlin said quickly, raising his head so fast his vision went out of focus for a moment before his eyes found Arthur's. "I want to come with you to practice."
"No way, Merlin, you can hardly stand! I swear, if this is one of the points on your damn list-"
"It's not, okay?" Merlin sounded almost angry; and he might have been if he hadn't been so out of it. "I just don't want to be... I just want to be there." He shrugged, and Arthur sensed that he might need the space (though he was a little perplexed as to what exactly he'd said that had made Merlin annoyed), so he gently removed his hands from Merlin's shoulders.
"Alright," Arthur replied. "That's fine. There are paracetamol in the bathroom if you want..."
But Merlin had already turned to stagger out of the kitchen, grabbing his backpack on the way to the bathroom.
Arthur waited until he heard the shower running, then turned back to prepare breakfast. If Merlin wasn't out in ten minutes he'd check on him – he looked tired enough to fall asleep in there, and he was the type of person who could drown in a shower, Arthur was sure. Or slip and hit his head. God, maybe he shouldn't have let him... Arthur gripped the table top, forcing himself to calm down. This was ridiculous, Merlin was a grown man, and Arthur was pretty sure that if any of his mates saw the way he was fussing over Merlin they'd never let him live it down. Or – he shuddered – his father. What would Uther even think about his unconventional friendship, all the silly things they'd been doing? Arthur didn't want to know.
It vaguely registered somewhere in his brain that it was perhaps a little strange for him to be concerned about what his father would think about one of his friends; and someone he'd only known for a month, at that. But Arthur had come to realise pretty quickly that where Merlin was concerned, everything was a little strange. He certainly wasn't like anyone Arthur had ever met before – but that was decidedly a good thing.
Arthur piled bacon, sausages and eggs high on two plates, carrying them to the little table in the kitchen before making his way to the bathroom. The water was still running, but he couldn't hear any sounds coming from inside. Oh god, he thought, feeling panic wash over him for a moment before forcing himself to take a deep breath and knocking on the door. "Merlin, you almost done in there?" he called.
For a moment, there was no reply. Arthur's hand was on the handle, ready to kick down the door if Merlin had locked it when, "Mmmyeah. One sec."
Arthur heard the water turn off, and held his breath as he listened to what must be Merlin coming out of the shower, bare feet slapping against the tiles of the bathroom floor. No crash; Merlin was fine. Merlin is fine, he repeated to himself.
When Merlin came out five minutes later he was dressed in different clothes than what he wore last night, and Arthur realised he must have brought it with him, intending to stay over. This didn't bother him, if anything he liked the idea of Merlin assuming that of course he'd be allowed to come back with him after a night out.
Merlin also looked a hell of a lot better than he had before his shower. His eyes were still sunken and he looked tired, but he was a little less pale and his smile seemed more genuine. He also wasn't swaying as much.
"Eat your breakfast," Arthur grumbled, in lieu of saying something embarrassing like Let me take care of you. "If you still want to come to the park with me and freeze your ass off in the cold, we're leaving in ten minutes."
"Thanks, Arthur," Merlin said quietly, sitting down opposite him and tucking into his breakfast. And for some reason Arthur felt like he was thanking him for more than just the food.
ooo
Merlin did go with Arthur to the park, despite Arthur's continued protests. He flat-out refused to stay behind at the flat by himself, and he also seemed oddly hesitant to go home – not that Arthur pressed much for that option. It was the weekend, and honestly, Arthur wasn't willing to let Merlin go just yet. He didn't know how to explain it, even to himself, but having Merlin there, by his side, it just felt... well, it felt right. Like Merlin was the piece of his life's puzzle that had been missing, to get terribly poetic about it all (Arthur blamed the hangover; he could not be held responsible for any wayward thoughts while the alcohol was still buzzing around in his system).
And it wasn't like he didn't want Merlin there with him, even if he'd have felt better knowing that at least one of them got to sleep off The Great Dragon's concoctions.
When they got to the park, Arthur was surprised to see that the only other people there were Leon – and Morgana. They were sitting on the benches next to the football field, and Arthur grimaced at Merlin, dragging him over. "Well, time to meet the family," he muttered needlessly; Merlin had met Morgana before, after all.
"Arthur! We were beginning to think you'd stood us up," Morgana called when she saw him.
"What are you even doing here, Morgana?" Arthur asked, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure Leon doesn't need a babysitter. No offence, mate," he added, cringing at Leon – he sometimes forgot that not everyone was used to Arthur and Morgana's sibling squabbles.
But Leon only waved his hand, smiling as they walked up to meet them. "We're going out for lunch straight after, this just seemed easier."
When Arthur looked back to Morgana, she was looking at Merlin with a slightly confused expression. "Merlin? I didn't peg you for the football type," she said, but she held out a gloved hand and smiled warmly as Merlin shook it.
Merlin shrugged, shoving his hands back into his pockets (Arthur really had to see about getting the man some gloves). "I'm not really. I just came for the fresh air."
"Merlin and I went out drinking last night, he stayed over," Arthur felt the need to clarify – not really sure why.
Morgana opened her mouth as if to ask a question, looking between Arthur and Merlin (Merlin shuffled his feet next to Arthur; clearly not used to this kind of scrutiny). After a moment, her eyes settled on Arthur again. "Gwen said you never called her," she said mildly, but Arthur heard the underlying accusation in her voice.
Oh shit, Gwen. Arthur had completely forgotten about her. He glanced at Merlin, wondering if he knew – and if he might be pissed off, seeing as Gwen was his friend, too – but Merlin was staring down at his shoes, for some reason. Leon just smiled blandly in their general direction.
"Right," Arthur said, feeling distinctly awkward. "Um, tell her I'm sorry?"
For a moment Morgana just frowned at him. Probably trying to work out why he'd let such a lovely girl slip through his fingers (which, honestly, Arthur had to admit was very unlike him. Gwen really had seemed wonderful). Then she turned her attention back to Merlin, a genuine smile sliding back on her face. "Well if you're not going to play, you can keep me company while we wait for the boys to tire of kicking around balls. What do you say?"
Merlin grinned. "Sounds perfect."
And Arthur very decidedly was not jealous of the way Morgana hooked her arm through Merlin's and led him back towards the benches.
Luckily he didn't have to spend too much time before the rest of the guys arrived making awkward small talk with Leon while being distracted by the way Merlin and Morgana were sitting close together, Morgana running her hands over Merlin's in what could either be an innocent attempt to heat up his fingers or some bizarre pre-mating ritual - one never quite knew with Morgana.
Arthur wondered if Leon was bothered at all by the display - he didn't look it, but with a guy as chilled out as Leon seemed to be, one never really knew. Arthur certainly would be, if he was... well, never mind what Arthur would be. He was here to play football.
Percival, Gwaine and Lancelot welcomed Leon with open arms, and he turned out to be an absolutely brilliant center forward. Even in the horrendous conditions (they probably spent more time slipping and sliding on the frosted field that they spent actually playing), Arthur had a great time - and every time he scored a goal, he'd hear Merlin cheer for him in the stands. For some reason, this warmed Arthur more than the actual running around.
After about an hour, they took a break, and Arthur jogged over to Merlin and Morgana to get some water. Merlin smiled brightly at him, but he still looked exhausted - and absolutely frozen under his beanie. He was now wearing Morgan's gloves, Arthur noted with surprise - Morgana never lent anyone anything of hers, and he knew for a fact that these had cost a small fortune (they'd been a Christmas present from him). She must really like him then. Poor Leon.
"Are you having fun?" Merlin asked, his teeth chattering slightly.
"We were, but we're actually done now if you want to go?" Arthur found himself saying. They weren't actually done, they usually played for another hour at least... but Merlin looked so cold, and Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't actually going to leave before Arthur did.
"Great!" Merlin exclaimed with just a little too much enthusiasm, practically jumping off the bench. "Morgana, thank you so much for lending me the gloves, you're a lifesaver," Merlin beamed at her, moving his hands to take them off.
"Please, keep them on," she smiled. "I'm sure Arthur can just give them back to me at some point, can't you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him, am unreadable expression on her face.
"Sure," Arthur shrugged. "Listen, Morgana, could you tell the guys we're off?" He really didn't want them to start asking questions about why he was leaving early - it would feel weird to say I'm taking Merlin home, even though that was exactly what he was doing.
"I..." Morgana looked as though she was about to say something, but shut her mouth with a snap, nodding tightly. "Sure. Merlin, it was lovely to see you again. Hopefully we will see much more of each other in the future." For some reason she was looking at Arthur while she said that last part.
"You too, Morgana," Merlin replied. "I'll tell Gwen you said hi."
As they walked off the field, Arthur felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Having a feeling he knew who it was from, he was sure to hide the display from Merlin as he pulled it out.
I like him. -M
As Arthur stared at the text, unable to actually make sense of the words (what about Leon?), a second text from Morgana came through:
Don't screw it up, Arthur.
And Arthur really didn't know what to make of that one, so he put his phone away, frowning at the ground. Don't screw what up? he thought, bewildered. Did Morgana think...
"Morgana is nice," Merlin said, breaking into Arthur's reverie, "I've met her a few times before, but you know. Never really had a chance to speak to her."
"Well then maybe you should date her," Arthur grumbled, still feeling a bit put out at the way Merlin and Morgana had seemed so chummy at the pitch. It had been very distracting.
Merlin sighed. For a moment he was silent, then he murmured, "She's not really my type, you know."
Arthur turned to stare at him, incredulous. Morgana was his sister of course, and therefore someone whose level of attractiveness Arthur generally avoided assessing, but there was no denying that objectively speaking, she was absolutely gorgeous. She was everybody's type (unless they were related to her, Arthur thought with a shudder).
But Merlin didn't elaborate. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "I reckon I should probably go home actually, I'm pretty beat."
"But..." Arthur started. He knew Merlin was tired of course, and on top of the hangover he kind of looked like he was coming down with something. But he realised that he wanted Merlin to stay. Even if it was to sleep the rest of the day away, he wanted Merlin to come back to the flat with him. And he wanted to tell him this - felt a sudden, bizarre urge to just open up about what he actually wanted for once - but he was Arthur, and he was maybe a little bit broken, so instead he said, "what about the list?"
"I think actually cheering on someone at a football match counts for today's new thing, don't you?"
"Remind me to thump you for never having cheered at a football match before when you don't look like you're on the verge of collapsing," Arthur sighed. "Seriously mate, are you sure you won't just..." come home with me.
"No, no I should really be heading home," Merlin said. They had reached the edge of the park and Merlin stopped, hoisting his backpack further up on his shoulder. Arthur realised that he'd be heading in the other direction towards the bus stop, and suddenly felt strangely awkward.
Merlin seemed to feel the same way, shuffling his feet a bit and staring down at the ground.
"Well, er, guess I'll see you around then," Arthur said, trying for casual. It came out a little desperate.
Merlin raised his eyes to meet Arthur's. "Morgana says you're a great brother," he said, catching Arthur completely off guard. "She probably wouldn't thank me for telling you, but it's the kind of thing people deserve to hear, you know? I thought you deserved to hear it, anyway."
"I... thank you," Arthur said, unexpectedly moved.
After another moment, Merlin moved suddenly forward, wrapping his arms around Arthur and pressing himself against him, Merlin's head resting briefly against the crook of his neck. But before Arthur could even begin to reciprocate the embrace, Merlin moved back, once again not meeting Arthur's eyes.
"See you around, Arthur. I'll text you, yeah?" Merlin said, and then he was off.
Arthur watched Merlin until he reached the end of the street, but Merlin didn't look back.
What had just happened?
Day 21:
Hug Merlin (kind of).
ooo
Thursday, February 25
It was Thursday, and Arthur had not heard from Merlin at all.
After the strange parting they'd had on Saturday, Arthur had very deliberately not thought about Merlin. He'd begun to suspect that he had perhaps become just a little too invested in Merlin's list (and by association Merlin himself), and for all he knew Merlin had just had enough of Arthur's meddling, and wanted some time to himself.
Arthur would give him that time. He just hoped that Merlin would eventually want to see him again, and that this wasn't his way of ending their friendship (even though it had practically just started).
He briefly considered the possibility that Morgana might have said something to scare Merlin off. Her cryptic texts still haunted him - and yes, a normal person might have just asked her what she had meant by them, but that was not how one communicated in the Pendragon household.
Arthur had tried - and utterly failed - at not thinking about Merlin for six days. By Tuesday he'd given in and texted Merlin once, two, three times, and even called, but he'd heard nothing back.
On Wednesday Arthur had been ready to call Gwen, but realised to his horror that he hadn't even kept her phone number. He could ask Morgana for it, of course, but then he'd have to explain why he needed it... and he could only imagine what she might make of that. Which would be completely off the mark, whatever it was.
Still, Arthur couldn't help it. The last time he had seen Merlin, he'd looked terrible, and for all he knew that stint in the park could have given him hypothermia. Or one of those shots really could have been poisoned. Either way, Arthur was worried; people were so breakable, and Merlin seemed especially so. Arthur didn't want him to break.
He was on the verge of texting Morgana (he might not have to go through Gwen at all, maybe Merlin had said something to her) when his work phone buzzed.
"Mr. Pendragon?" George's nasally voice sounded, "I've got Mr. Pendragon here to see you, Sir."
Text to Morgana forgotten, Arthur's eyes widened and he straightened up in his chair without realising. His father was here? "Er, right, send him in," he spoke into the intercom, closing his eyes and inwardly berating himself for how unprofessional that had sounded.
A moment later, the door to his office swung open and Uther Pendragon strode in. Eyes like flint, they locked on Arthur's in a second, and as always when in the presence of his father, Arthur felt his insides coil. But he would never let that show, of course.
Arthur sat up a little straighter. "Father," he acknowledged.
"Arthur." Uther did not sit down. He never sat down when he came into Arthur's office, preferring instead to loom over Arthur as he did when he was a child.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Uther looked disappointed - but then, he always looked disappointed - as he stared Arthur down. "I looked over your progress reports again, Arthur. They are simply unacceptable."
Arthur sighed. His department had been doing great - they'd hit all their targets and more, and Arthur had personally ensured Christmas bonuses for every member of the team that had brought home the largest order. But of course, it wasn't enough for Uther. Nothing ever was.
"I'm sorry you don't feel satisfied, father, but I assure you everyone has been working to their best ability-"
"I gave you this job believing that you could handle it, Arthur," Uther interrupted, his voice cold. "I wasn't expecting you to let me down."
Arthur resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was Uther's way of motivating him to do better, he knew that. It had always been like this, ever since... but despite what everyone said, Arthur knew that Uther only wanted him to do well. Even if his methods were crass, and even if he was probably hurting Arthur more than helping, somewhere inside of his father there was a twisted desire to see his son succeed. To see his son be happy - the problem was that Uther thought he knew exactly what Arthur's happiness looked like, and it was becoming more and more apparent to Arthur that he didn't.
Uther's vision of Arthur's life saw him CEO of Camelot Corp. when he himself retired. It saw him settled down at the age of thirty with a young, beautiful socialite wife (Uther had been the only one disappointed when Arthur had called it quits with Vivian) and a couple of pink, blonde babies to ensure the succession of the Pendragon throne which Uther fancied himself existed.
Uther's vision did not include football in the park, nor the charity work which Arthur was slowly getting Camelot Corp. involved in with Morgana's help. And it did not include friends like Merlin.
At that moment, Arthur realised that he and his father were never going to see eye to eye. And there was a part of him - the small, scared boy so desperate for Uther's love and approval - that was terrified by this. But another part of him revelled in the knowledge that he would never be like his father.
Arthur smiled. "I promise to do better next time, father."
And truly, he could do no better than that. Uther would just have to deal with it. Hopefully, he would be able to.
Day 26:
Accept that you are not your father.
ooo
Later that night, Arthur's phone rang, an unknown number flashing up on the display. He normally didn't answer unknown calls, but, well... he might just be a tiny bit desperate at this point.
"Hello, Arthur Pendragon speaking." Better keep it formal, he thought, even though he sounded like a tool.
"Um, Arthur?" a vaguely familiar female voice spoke, "it's Gwen. Guinevere Smith. From the art gallery?"
"Oh." Well, this could get awkward. Had Morgana actually given Gwen his number, even after he'd made it pretty clear that he wasn't going to call? Had Gwen found it on her own? Why was she even calling him? Unless... oh. "Is it Merlin?" Arthur asked, suddenly a lot more alert. "Is he alright?"
"I... Merlin?" Gwen sounded caught off guard by his tone. "Merlin is..." she hesitated, and Arthur held his breath. Surely nothing could have happened to Merlin in the few short days since Arthur had last seen him? But then why was Gwen calling him now? "No, I mean... yeah, he's fine, Arthur," she finally said, and Arthur let out a relieved breath. "He actually asked me to call. He just wanted you to know that he's out of town. Visiting his mum." Arthur didn't know the girl very well at all, but he thought she sounded a bit tense. Was she mad at Arthur for not calling her?
"But why's he making you call me?" Arthur asked. "Couldn't he just do it himself?"
"Um," Gwen said, "no, because there's no cell reception where his mum lives. So he didn't bother taking his phone with him. Only remembered that he hadn't told you when he was on the train." This all came out very fast.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "But if he didn't have his phone with him, how did he tell you to call me?"
"Um," Gwen said again. Another shuffle. This was the strangest conversation Arthur had ever had - either she was lying to him, or she really held a grudge.
The silence continued, as did the shuffling. "Gwen?" Arthur asked after a moment.
A sigh. "I think he must have found a payphone," she finally said. "Look, I'm only passing on the message, I'm sorry if it's vague." And she really did sound sorry.
"No, thank you," Arthur said. "I appreciate it. I hadn't heard from him in a few days, I have to admit I was a little worried." It was strange, admitting that - but Gwen was Merlin's friend too. He felt slightly kindred, at that moment.
"Right. Well, Arthur, listen, I should-"
"Wait," Arthur said quickly, confused by her dismissiveness but not willing to let go of the one tie he had to Merlin just yet, "do you know when he's coming back to London?"
A pause. "I don't, I'm sorry." A sigh. "He didn't say. But... he said he'd let you know, when he's back."
"Right."
"I'm sorry I can't tell you more, Arthur."
"No, it's fine. Not your fault." Arthur tried to put a smile into his voice, willing her to hear it. "I'm sorry, too... for, you know. Not calling you." He winced. This was why he hated speaking on the phone; awkward things seemed to stumble out of his mouth without his permission.
To his surprise, Gwen let out a breath which sounded suspiciously like laughter. "It's really fine, Arthur. I honestly wasn't expecting you to."
"Oh." Why not? Arthur wanted to ask. Had he really been that dismissive of her? He couldn't remember much of that night, to be honest, except for the parts he spent with Merlin.
How was it that all his thoughts these days seemed to revolve around Merlin, anyway?
"Maybe one day you could come to dinner, though. With Merlin there, I mean," Gwen said. "And our friends too of course. Not that you're not a friend - I mean, you're Merlin's friend. That makes you a friend in general."
Arthur grinned. Ah, yes, Gwen rambled, he remembered this now. She really was uncommonly charming. "I'd love to. Maybe when Merlin gets back we can work something out."
Gwen's reply was quiet, a sharp contrast to how she'd just spoken. "Right. Look, Arthur, I really should run, I need to go... do some food shopping."
"Right, okay," Arthur blinked. She might be charming, but Gwen had the worst phone manners of anyone he'd ever met. "Well, goodbye then."
"Goodbye, Arthur." And the line went dead.
Arthur stared at his phone. It read 23:04. "Food shopping?" he mumbled, bewildered.
His life sure had been a lot simpler before he's met Merlin and his weird, awkward friends.