_
Arthur couldn't remember the last time he got so thoroughly pissed. He woke up late on Christmas morning, holding his head and cursing his sister for taking him to Bailey's. He made it through the opening of presents and dinner a few hours later without incident – mostly because he ignored any baiting from his parents. Their focus was mostly on Morgana and how she was about to ruin her life by marrying Leon. Arthur made a mental note to thank her for taking him out of the running for Most Disappointing Child of the Century.
Normally after dinner they all watched various Christmas films while drinking expensive red wine and eating Christmas cake. Arthur claimed to still have a headache from the night before and excused himself, having had his fill of red wine and anything to do with Christmas. He went upstairs to his bedroom and changed into pajamas. He'd brought his computer with him on the trip, and took it out as he got into bed. It quickly powered on and he opened up his email. All hospital staff was listed in a database with their department and email address. Arthur found Merlin's and began to type out an email.
~
To: "Merlin Emrys" .com
From: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 20:32
Subject: Happy Christmas
Merlin:
Hope you're enjoying Christmas whilst sitting on your sofa. I can imagine you drinking beer and eating pizza. How far off am I?
Happy Christmas,
Arthur
~
It was only a few minutes before the postage stamp at the bottom of his screen began to bounce. Arthur opened his new email with a forced calm.
~
To: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
From: "Merlin Emrys" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 20:42
Subject: Re: Happy Christmas
arthur –
i have beer how u'd know? but no pizza. i made macaroni and cheese instead. stop making that face i know u're making. what time is it there, like midnight?
merlin m. emrys
~
Arthur shook his head. He was not surprised at Merlin's lack of capital letters, nor the fact that he signed his email with is full name. It made Arthur smile and he wished he was home, if only to meet Merlin at the coffeehouse near their hospital for tea to warm them up.
To: "Merlin Emrys" .com
From: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 20:50
Subject: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
What does the "M" stand for in Merlin M. Emyrs? You're nothing but M's. I did not make a face at the macaroni and cheese, although I thought only small children ate that. My experience with macaroni and cheese is limited to the cardboard-tasting monstrosity that's served in the hospital cafeteria. It's also not midnight; it's eight o'clock. You're from England yourself, shouldn't you know a bit more about the time zone differences?
~
To: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
From: "Merlin Emrys" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 21:04
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
arthur - i haven't been back to england since i first left, didn't i tell u that? i never have any idea what time it is in the motherland. all i know is that every sunday at ten in the morning i call my mum and she's in the middle of cooking dinner for herself. of course she goes to work at 4 in the morning, so dinnertime for her probably isn't the same as it is for everybody else. why are u emailing me instead of spending christmas with ur family? ps the m is a secret. we'll see if u stick around long enough to find out.
To: "Merlin Emrys" .com
From: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 21:20
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
Merlin Marcus Emrys:
I got rather sloshed last night with my little sister and have had a horrible headache all day long. My parents are insufferable and this is the first time I've come home in two years. I don't plan on coming back until Morgana gets married. She just informed my parents she's engaged to a member of the Camelot Police and my father could not be angrier. It's nice to have their focus off of me for a change, but I still don't want to have to listen to them as they yell at Morgana about how she's throwing away her life. So I decided to take my headache upstairs and see how your Christmas was going. I couldn't stop thinking about you.
~
To: "Arthur Pendragon" .com ps it's not marcus
From: "Merlin Emrys" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 21:29
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
u flatter me and u don't even mean to. i'm sorry ur parents are rotten. my christmas has been rather pathetic. but the alcohol helps to numb everything. i can't really stop thinking about u either. but i didn't want to tell u that because u're egoistical enough for the both of us and i'm sure u're feeling rather smug right about now.
To: "Merlin Emrys" .com
From: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 21:40
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
Merlin Mitchell Emrys:
I wasn't feeling smug at all. It felt nice reading those words. I wish I could hear you say them, but my mobile never works over here. I'm looking forward to seeing you again when I get home. England isn't "home" for me anymore and I always feel like such a stranger here. When is your next day off?
~
To: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
From: "Merlin Emrys" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 21:45
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
5 january. then i have 5 days off in a row but i'll probably end up sleeping the first 4 because this shit at the hospital is about to kill me. 16 hr days is madness. i don't know how much longer i can keep it up. i suppose i'll feel differently once i've seen my paycheck. it's not mitchell. or michael or michel or michelangelo or maurice or any other name u'll guess. nice try.
~
To: "Merlin Emrys" .com
From: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 22:01
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
Merlin Mickey Emrys:
5 January is a long way off. When will I get to see you again?
~
To: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
From: "Merlin Emrys" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 22:04
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
mickey? seriously? i don't know. when do u want to see me again?
~
To: "Merlin Emrys" .com
From: "Arthur Pendragon" .com
Sent: 25 December 2006, 22:07
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas
Merlin Manuel Emrys:
Every chance I get.
_
24 December
Merlin stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in jeans and a jumper. He still didn't want to go into town, but he had gotten dressed anyway and readied himself to go appease his mother. At first he hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, breathing in calculated breaths, but then he silenced himself and eavesdropped on his mum and Arthur talking in the kitchen, their voices low.
"I'm so glad you're here," said Hunith. "I know we've spoken on the phone before, but it's so different than seeing you in person."
"I'm glad to have come," replied Arthur. "I can't believe Merlin hasn't been back home since he was seventeen. I don't know why."
"Didn't Merlin ever tell you why he doesn't come home?"
"No. He always avoids the question."
Merlin could imagine his mother nodding and looking sad. "When he was sixteen he was dating this boy from the private school down the road. I knew he was gay – he'd told me already, we were close back then. He and that boy, whose name was Nigel, I believe, went to the cinema to see a picture and were snogging" – Merlin's mum laughed a little – "in the back seats. A few boys from Merlin's school saw them . . ." Her voice trailed off and Merlin swallowed hard, leaning against the wall, listening intently.
"Did something bad happen?" asked Arthur, his voice light and soft, as though he didn't really want to ask the question.
"Yes. The boys pulled Merlin and Nigel out of the cinema, called them 'fags' and 'poufs' and beat them pretty badly."
"How badly?"
"Merlin was in hospital for almost two weeks," replied Hunith. "He was never in danger of dying or anything – well, that's not true, the doctors thought the first twenty-four hours that he could die, and then after that when he seemed to be better, they couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be brain damage. . . . Those boys, they broke several ribs . . . he had a terrible concussion. . . . It was one of the most frightening times in my life. I worked at the same hospital and one of the other nurses came to get me, running to my floor, and I could tell something terrible had happened. Never in my life have I been so scared. My baby was lying there, in one of the starched beds, his face swollen, his bones broken, and all because he was just being who he was, who he was born as."
There was silence from the kitchen and Merlin tried to imagine what Arthur's face must look like. He was just as glad he couldn't see it; he didn't want Arthur's pity. Merlin shut his eyes against the memory.
"So that's why he left England," stated Arthur.
"He took his A-levels as soon as he could and left almost immediately – or least, that's how t felt. I didn't know he had applied to schools in the States, but he had and he left a few months later for New York City."
"I had no idea. I knew something had happened, but I never figured – I just didn't know."
"Which is why I am so grateful Merlin met you. You brought him home. You know, Arthur, ever since Merlin left, he's promised to always be himself. He hid who he was here and as a result, he believes he was punished for it by those awful boys. I think some people are scared of what's different, and Merlin was different. This is a small village and most people fancy themselves religious and think that people like Merlin don't deserve the right to be happy. But when Merlin went to New York, he said people were different there and he never hid who he was. He's been happier in the States than he ever was here. I miss him, of course, but I could never ask him to live somewhere that didn't make him happy. I know things between you two haven't always been perfect, but I think you make him happy."
"I hope so," said Arthur softly.
"Don't break his heart."
Arthur chuckled. "I think you should be more worried about him breaking mine, to be honest."
Merlin decided he had heard enough and walked into the kitchen. "I'm dressed. Let's get this over with."
"Going into the village will be fun," said Hunith, wiping at her eyes. "A lot has changed since you were last home."
"Not enough, I bet," grumbled Merlin.
"I'll get my car keys." Hunith squeezed Merlin's shoulder as she walked past him and out of the kitchen.
Merlin shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Arthur's shoes. He watched as Arthur stood and took the few steps over to where he slouched.
"Are you all right?" asked Arthur.
"I just feel so weird being back here."
Arthur put his hands on Merlin's hips. "I don't like that look. What's going through that brain of yours?"
"I don't know," lied Merlin.
"You do, but you're not telling me. I don't like those thoughts."
"Sorry," mumbled Merlin, even though he wasn't.
Hunith came back into the kitchen and Arthur let go of Merlin. "Ready?"
The trip into town was uneventful. They bought bread for Christmas dinner and fresh apples so Hunith could make a pie. Arthur drug Merlin into a small shop that sold Christmas ornaments and bought two silver ones that matched their tree back home.
"But we didn't even put up a tree this year," whined Merlin.
"We will next year," replied Arthur, "if we spend the holiday at home."
Merlin mostly pouted and Arthur mostly pretended Merlin wasn't in a bad mood, which made Merlin pout even more. Arthur and Hunith were jovial and seemed to get along great, although Merlin really had no doubts that they wouldn't. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly when Merlin stepped outside of the café where they bought sandwiches for lunch to smoke a cigarette. Arthur joined him, taking a drag or two off Merlin's cigarette instead of lighting one of his own.
"I like your mum," he said. "She's wonderful."
"Fantastic," replied Merlin, though there wasn't any sincerity in his voice.
"Merlin, stop it. What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just didn't want to come into town."
"Why?" asked Arthur.
Merlin looked at him, as though daring him to reveal his knowledge of what happened at the cinema when Merlin was sixteen. But Arthur didn't mention it, perhaps because Merlin himself had never told him. Merlin didn't want to burden Arthur with that kind of information. He didn't want him to know about the bad parts of coming out in a small village. Arthur had enough personal issues about being gay, and Merlin didn't want to scare him away by telling him about what happened to him. There was a part of Merlin that was still frightened that Arthur would wake up one morning and decide it was all too much, that he couldn't handle Merlin any longer, that he wanted a "normal" life, that he wanted to be on speaking terms with his own family again. That he would wake up and realize that he and Merlin were too different, that there was no longer a place for Merlin in his life.
"Shape up," said Arthur sternly, "or I won't give you your Christmas present."
"Don't be stupid," snapped Merlin. "We exchanged presents already back home."
Arthur shook his head, the look on his face very serious. "I saved one. I wasn't sure I was going to give it to you yet, but I brought it along, just in case. I thought of giving it to you tomorrow, but if you're going to pout like a sullen teenager, I'll give it to somebody else."
"What kind of present? Maybe I won't like it."
"See? You're a teenager. And I'm not telling."
Merlin scowled. "You always like teasing me."
"I know. Cheer up, Ems. We never get this much time off work together. Enjoy it and stop sulking."
Merlin nodded. "All right, all right," he said. He flicked his cigarette away and forced himself to smile.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Merlin allowed himself some enjoyment in town and even began pointing places out to Arthur – that's where I went to primary school, that's where Will and I used to sneak cigarettes when we were twelve, that's where I played football even though I was crap at it. Arthur seemed to like knowing this side of Merlin, the parts from his childhood, memories playing out in front of them as Merlin retold stories from his past. He never mentioned the cinema and even when they passed it, Merlin kept his mouth shut, and thankfully so did his mother.
Hunith offered to make them supper around five o'clock when they arrived back home, but neither Merlin nor Arthur was hungry yet, so she fixed a salad for herself, apologizing for all the yawning. She kept early hours since she was normally at work at four in the morning and excused herself for bed not too long after eating. She kissed both Arthur and Merlin on the cheek before going to her room, wishing them both a Happy Christmas Eve.
As soon as Hunith's door had closed with a click, Merlin rounded on Arthur.
"I want my present."
Arthur laughed and leaned back on the sofa in the living room. He and Merlin had sat on opposite ends of the sofa as Hunith had sipped her tea, trying to stay awake and visit with "her two boys," while sitting in her chair opposite them.
"You're rather greedy for someone who was so grouchy most of the day. I should never have told you about this."
"Well you did and you know I'm impatient, so let's have it."
Arthur sighed and stood. He held out his hand; Merlin took it. He led them both upstairs to Merlin's old bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, Arthur seemed to hesitate, looking at Merlin intently.
"Merlin," he said, his voice full of sudden seriousness, "you've given me more chances than I probably deserve. And I appreciate that. It means a lot to me that you've believed in me – in us."
Merlin sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at Arthur. He felt lightheaded, unsure of where Arthur's speech was headed.
Arthur crossed the room and stood in front of Merlin, cupping his face and tracing his ears with his forefingers. "I love you, Ems."
"I know. You've said that a lot the last couple days."
"I don't say it very often."
"I know."
"Should I say it more?" Arthur didn't wait for Merlin to respond. "Sometimes I don't say it because I don't want to ruin the meaning. I don't want to cheapen it. But I do, Ems. Probably from the very beginning. There was this cord, pulling me to you, and as hard as I tried to ignore it or sever it, it was always there. And now it's wound so tightly, I don't think it could ever be undone. I think I'm yours forever."
Merlin blinked but couldn't look away from Arthur's eyes. This speech – Merlin had never heard Arthur speak like this. There had only been once, over two years ago, when Arthur had shown the same raw emotion, the same vulnerability. It was a side Merlin was so unfamiliar with that he didn't know how to react.
Arthur let go of Merlin and stepped backwards, turning to his luggage and shuffling through his neatly folded shirts and trousers. It took him a moment, but he found what he was looking for. He held the box in his hand as he sat next to Merlin on the bed. His eyes were focused on the box and Merlin stared at it, too.
"Here," whispered Arthur. "I don't know what you'll think or if you really even want it, but I saw it and I've had it for almost a year now. I was never sure when the right time – or if there would ever be a right time – but now . . ." His words faltered. "Sometimes I'm scared." His voice was so low, Merlin could barely hear him.
"Of what?" asked Merlin, his voice equally as soft.
"Of losing you."
"Why?"
Arthur took in a deep breath. "Because of me. I'm not the easiest person to be with and yet you're with me and you put up with all my—"
"Insecurities?" offered Merlin.
Arthur laughed. "That's not the word I was going to use but sure. If you want to call it that, then sure." He shrugged. "Anyway. This is for you."
He handed Merlin the box. Merlin held it, looking at it, almost unsure of what to do with it. He had an idea of what was inside, of what it might mean when he opened it up, and suddenly he felt scared himself.
Taking a deep breath, Merlin opened the box and looked inside.
_
Over two and a half years ago
The first few months with Merlin were hard. They never saw enough of each other. Arthur was still technically an intern and worked eighty hours a week. Sometimes he was on-call at the hospital for thirty-six hours straight, barely able to take naps in the on-call room. Merlin's schedule was much the same. Even though his department had hired new nurses, he still seemed to work overtime almost every week. Some weeks would go by and the only times they were able to see one another was at the hospital. Their relationship seemed to be via their mobiles, sending text messages to one another because one of them was always at work.
"How the hell do you do it?" Arthur asked one day to Elena Cosgrove, the head of the Emergency Department. For some reason, she had taken a liking to him, offering to mentor him, giving him general advice, but most importantly, letting him vent when he needed to complain to someone about his job, the patients, and the general insanity which was their public hospital. She had a way of making him laugh at the end of each of his rants which always calmed him down. He preferred talking to Merlin, to letting him be the one to offer him laughter, but he always turned to Merlin for comfort and support after losing a patient – Elena Cosgrove offered guidance and humor when he was otherwise lost as a new doctor.
She had called Arthur into her office one Friday afternoon. Arthur thought she looked extremely young to be the head of any department. Her hair was blonde, long, and always pulled back in a ponytail. She never wore makeup or jewelry, save a plain silver band on the ring finger of her left hand. Whenever she was in her office, it was always to go through charts and paperwork, and when she was, she wore a pair of reading glasses.
"How the hell do I do what?" she asked, peering at Arthur over the rim of her glasses.
"You're married, yeah? How do you stay married and have this job?"
Elena put down her pen. "You're an excellent doctor."
Arthur paused, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, Arthur said, "Thanks."
"I want you here as a resident. Do you want that?"
Arthur nodded. "Yes. I like it here."
"Good. We'll make it happen when your internship is over."
"Good. Er, is that why you called me in here?"
Elena nodded. "Yes. I've got my eye on you. You're a natural leader, aren't you? You struggled at first, but you're doing so much better."
"Thank you."
"Have you ever thought of being in administration?"
Arthur shook his head. "No."
Elena looked thoughtful. "I don't know if you'd like it, but you might. It would certainly leave you more time to see your girlfriend."
"I don't have a girlfriend," said Arthur automatically.
Elena raised her eyebrows. "But you just asked—"
"How you stay married with this job? I know, but . . ."
"I'm technically not married," said Elena carefully. She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I have a wife."
"Oh," said Arthur. Then, "Ohh."
"She's a physical therapist at the outpatient building. We manipulate the schedules so we can see one another. Is your girlfriend not happy that she never sees you? Don't tell me you don't have a girlfriend. I see you on that cell phone of yours. And I won't believe for a second that you're sending that surgeon all those texts – whatever his name is."
Arthur was silent for a moment, unsure of the words he should say. "Well," he began. "I don't know. I know I'm not happy about not having enough time together."
"Hmm," said Elena. "Being an intern is a bit like slavery. You're the hospital's bitch. You work eighty hours, you're here all the time. And when you leave you're too tired to do anything but go home and sleep. Most marriages don't work during these first few years. If you can get through it, I believe your relationship will be stronger. All those messages aren't to that surgeon, are they?"
Arthur laughed and shook his head. "No way. Lance and I are mates. He just started dating someone from human resources, if you can believe the irony."
"Gwen? She's lovely. I've seen them around the hospital together." Elena folded her hands on her desk. "Arthur, you're a very high performing doctor and I want to keep you happy."
"Why me?"
"I want to keep all my doctors happy, but not all of them will stay around. Many of them will go to other hospitals, will leave Emergency behind and do other things. It happens. This is the only trauma one hospital within a hundred miles. Many can't take that sort of pressure. You thrive on it."
"I like it," agreed Arthur.
"Where does your girlfriend work?"
"I don't have—"
"Fine, fine, you don't have labels," dismissed Elena with a wave of her hand. "Where does this person you're sleeping with work?"
Arthur hesitated, unsure if he should give away too many details. "Here," he said, "in the hospital."
Elena rolled her eyes. "These nurses, I swear, they're always all over the doctors. You better treat her well or else Gwen will be calling me."
"I highly doubt you'll have to deal with Gwen," said Arthur honestly. "They're rather close friends."
Elena opened her mouth as though to respond but closed it. She and Arthur looked at one another and suddenly Arthur knew he had revealed too much. Clearly Elena knew that Gwen didn't have many friends inside the hospital and the only person she was ever seen with other than Lance was Merlin from ICU.
"So," said Elena slowly, "you don't have a girlfriend."
"No," replied Arthur, "and I don't really want people knowing that I don't have a girlfriend."
She nodded. "All right, then. I think someone is paging you."
Arthur looked at his mobile. "Car accident. Thanks for the, er, advice."
"Any time."
_
March melted into April and the new month brought days of endless rain. It was a rare occasion when both Merlin and Arthur had three days off in a row. The first day and a half Arthur spent in bed, mostly sleeping, occasionally fucking Merlin.
Merlin came over with an overnight bag, as he often did, and stayed in bed with him. Arthur would wake, see Merlin sitting next to him, reading a book or checking email on his laptop. He would drape an arm around Merlin, mumble meaningless words into his hip, and fall back asleep.
He woke around three in the afternoon, his arm still around Merlin, his knee in between Merlin's thighs. He breathed in, smelling Merlin's scent.
"Finally you're awake," said Merlin. "Don't go back to sleep."
Arthur slid his body on top of Merlin, kissing his neck and shoulder. "No. Sorry. I can never fall asleep at the bloody hospital so I come home and sleep for days instead. I know it's not really fair. . . ."
"No," confirmed Merlin.
Arthur sat up, bringing Merlin with him. He pulled Merlin's t-shirt up and over his head and bent down and trailed kisses across Merlin's chest. His fingers were already at the waistband of Merlin's pajamas when Merlin stopped him.
"Wait."
Arthur pulled back. "What's wrong?"
Merlin smiled and shook his head. "Nothing. But I want to try something different."
Arthur raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Absolutely."
"I'm never on top and I want to fuck you." He pressed his index finger into Arthur's chest as he said it, his smile never wavering, but Arthur could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "We've been together for over three months and you never have let me, but I want to see what you look like when you're all fucked out."
Arthur sighed and felt utterly wretched. He tried to think back to the times when they'd been together. Usually he brought Merlin off with his hand, or Merlin brought himself off while Arthur was inside him. Merlin's body had already grown accustomed to Arthur, as though opening itself up and molding around him when he entered Merlin. He loved the feel of Merlin, every bit of him, and while he hadn't yet spoken the words, Arthur knew it was more than just Merlin's body that he loved.
"Right," he muttered with a sigh. He felt his pulse quicken as he thought about it. His mouth went dry. He had no idea why he was having this reaction – perhaps he thought that it would never come up, that Merlin would always be happy with the way their sex life was. But this act that Merlin wanted to do, this thing Merlin was asking of him, it would be more than Arthur had ever given any man in his life. It would be opening him up, leaving him vulnerable; this was an act of gay men, an act that Arthur had so carefully avoided in his past. Could he possibly be willing to give away this part of himself and give it to Merlin? Arthur had never admitted to himself that he was gay; that word had not come out of his mouth, and by doing this, it was as good as that word – the one he so carefully avoided saying.
"Are you all right?" asked Merlin, bending his neck and kissing Arthur's shoulder.
Arthur shook his head. "No."
"Why?"
"I'm . . . gay."
Merlin pulled away from Arthur so he could look him in the eye. "Yes," he confirmed.
"I've never said that aloud before."
Merlin reached and touched Arthur's cheek. "Even to yourself?"
Arthur shook his head. "No. I told my sister over Christmas, but I didn't use that word."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to be."
"Oh."
"But I am. I'm gay."
Merlin smiled, but it looked sad. "You should want to be who you are," he said, "or else you won't be happy."
"What I want is to be with you. Period."
Merlin nodded. "If this is meant to be, everything will fall into place. I won't force it, but I won't wait around forever either."
He kissed Merlin, hard and wet, placing as much emotion behind it as he could. He wasn't very vocal about how he felt. Now he felt exposed, naked in a way that he'd never felt before, sitting in front of this man, talking about the things they did with their bodies, open and honestly. Arthur had never experienced such honesty and it left his heart raw. "Thank you," he said. "I mean it."
Merlin nodded again. His stomach rumbled. "I've been waiting for days for you to wake the bloody hell up. Let's go get something to eat, yeah?"
_
They didn't argue about much. Merlin seemed accepting of Arthur, and he had a willingness to wait while Arthur found his stride. Oftentimes Arthur felt that Merlin was secretly laughing at him, as though privy to some joke that Arthur didn't understand. When he told Merlin this, Merlin just smiled and shook his head, stating that he simply had just never had the pleasure to watch someone come out before.
At the hospital not much changed. Sometimes they met on the loading dock to steal cigarettes, but mostly they didn't see one another. Arthur didn't go out of his way to see Merlin; he didn't purposefully avoid him, but he didn't purposefully seek him out either. Merlin seemed to understand that work they were separate entities and didn't press it, but sometimes when they shared gazes across the hospital cafeteria, Arthur thought Merlin looked sad.
One day in mid-April, Arthur stood outside a patient's room, holding up a series of x-rays for Lance and another surgeon, Dr. Rhys Jones to examine. As they were looking at the pictures, Arthur noticed Merlin coming down the corridor. Their eyes met and for the first time, Arthur was surprised to see Merlin looking somewhat unsure of himself.
"Hi," said Arthur as Merlin approached.
"Hello. I, er—"
"Oh, hey, Merlin!" said Lance, surprised. "How's Gwen?"
"She's well," answered Merlin.
"Good. She's fantastic. I really like her."
"Er, she fancies you, too."
"She mentioned us getting together one night, since she and I are dating and you're her best friend. I think she said you were dating someone new? Maybe we could double? Seems old-fashioned, but she wants us to be friends."
Arthur could tell Merlin was purposefully avoiding eye contact with him. "Yes, well, perhaps. I'll talk to Gwen and we'll see what happens." He tried to smile.
"What brings you downstairs?" asked Lance.
"Er," began Merlin, glancing at Arthur. "I'm on lunch and was going to see if you fancied an oxygen break." He motioned towards the cigarette tucked behind his ear.
Arthur looked at his watch and then back at Merlin. "I have to finish this consult here – patient may need surgery, but sure. Ten minutes?"
Merlin nodded. "Sure. I'll be outside. Nice seeing you again, Lance, and I really will talk to Gwen about us getting together. I haven't seen too much of her lately – she's always with you." This time, Merlin's grin looked genuine and he blushed as he stepped away.
Arthur looked back at the x-rays.
"I didn't know y'all were friends," said Lance.
"'Y'all?'" repeated Arthur with a smirk. "We sometimes smoke together out on the loading dock. He's rather witty, to tell the truth."
"Find out what you can about Gwen," said Lance. "We've been dating two months, but I just can't figure her out sometimes."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Now, the x-rays?"
"Be careful," warned Dr. Jones. "I hear that that nurse – what did you call him? Merlin? – was gay."
"Oh," said Arthur. "So?"
"So just be careful."
"I don't understand," said Arthur, although he had a pretty good idea.
"You get too friendly with him, people will talk." Rhys shrugged. "That's all."
"It's a big hospital," snapped Arthur, "I think I can be friends with one nurse without everybody thinking there's some sort of scandal. Besides, it's just a cigarette and he's not trying to recruit me for the gay army or anything."
Rhys shrugged. "You never know. He may try to make a move on you is all. You know how they are."
"How who are?"
"The gays."
Arthur felt his body began to shake. He had an urge to out himself right there, to tell Dr. Rhys Jones exactly what he thought, but he swallowed his anger and pointed back to the x-ray, his voice smooth and clipped. "Here is where the break is, and you can see from this fracture that the bone—"
"Yeah, I see it," said Lance. "We'll definitely have to reset everything with surgery. She'll likely need a pin here." He pointed to one of the bones in the patient's wrist. "It's slow upstairs, there're three open OR's. I'll call and get one prepped and we can operate now. Well, not me, I don't do 'bones,' but I know Thompson is free." He took the x-rays from Arthur and grinned. "Even if Merlin did try to recruit you for the gay army, no one would believe it anyway."
"Thanks," mumbled Arthur, not sure what he was supposed to be grateful for.
"I'll stay with your patient," said Lance, "and take her upstairs." He took the chart from the front of the hospital room. "Just sign off on it."
They made their notes quickly and Arthur signed his name, handing his patient over to Lance. It was a slow day and he excused himself, telling the nurses at the middle desks that he was going for a quick break, but he would be accessible from his mobile. They giggled, as they always did, when he said "mobile" instead of "cell phone."
Outside, the air was warm and Merlin wasn't the only one standing on the loading dock. A few feet away were three other nurses, all women, gossiping about some television show they were all watching in their spare time. Arthur approached Merlin and couldn't keep the smile off his face. He took the cigarette Merlin offered him but lit it himself.
"I'm sorry," said Merlin, his voice low so the other nurses wouldn't hear him. "I shouldn't have come downstairs—"
"No," interrupted Arthur, "it was fine."
Merlin shrugged. "I just don't ever see you."
Arthur nodded. "I know. Listen, do you know Dr. Cosgrove?"
Merlin shook his head. "Not really. She's head of your department, right?"
"Right. She told me about this lecture in New York, developments in Emergency Medicine."
"Developments?"
Arthur shrugged. "No idea. But it's in two weeks and I thought if you could get a couple days off from ICU that you could come with me."
Merlin blinked, clearly stunned. "Are you mad?"
"No."
"I think you've lost your mind. I never thought you'd invite me for a weekend away."
The three nurses all left the loading dock, and Arthur was quiet until the service door shut. He looked at Merlin and smiled, shaking his head. "I'm not mad," he said. "The lecture is on a Tuesday, but I thought maybe we could spend a couple days in the city before coming back. Cosgrove already said I could have three days off. . . ."
"Are any of the other doctors going?"
Arthur nodded. "One, but he's flying there and back in the same day. No one else wanted to go."
"All right," said Merlin, "I'll see what strings I can pull with my schedule."
"I should get back." Arthur threw his cigarette over the side of the loading dock and crossed the platform to the service door.
"Arthur?"
Arthur paused, his hand on the door handle.
"About what Lance said . . . about Gwen wanting to go out with us?"
Arthur hesitated. He turned back to Merlin. No one had ever left him feeling so naked before in his life. "Just Lance and Gwen, and me and you, yeah?"
Merlin nodded.
Arthur wet his lips and nodded slowly. "All right, then." And he left to go back inside.
_
The next week, Arthur was in ED 9, looking at a patient with burns on her hands from a small kitchen fire. She would be fine, but Arthur was waiting for a consult from a doctor in the burn unit who could better assess the girl's need for hospital care. She was very scared, and he was in the middle of talking to her when Lance barged into the room. The door was open, but Arthur was still with a patient, and his eyes were wide as he turned and looked at Lance in disbelief.
"Mate, what the hell?"
"Excuse me," Lance said to the girl, flashing her a wide smile. He grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him out of the room and into the corridor. "I could murder you," he whispered. "How could you not tell me?"
Arthur sighed loudly and shrugged. The night before he had ventured out with Merlin to meet Gwen and Lance. Of course, Arthur had been hearing all about Lance's romance with Gwen, their interludes, their plans for the future even though they'd only been dating for a couple months. They seemed made for one another, something Arthur could only vaguely understand, and for some daft reason they wanted to be best friends with Merlin and Merlin's new boyfriend. Arthur didn't understand this concept of double-dating or needing another couple to socialize with, but Merlin had been eager and Arthur wanted to make him happy.
"You know I don't care, right?" asked Lance, looking slightly unsure. "You could've told me before."
"It never came up," said Arthur. "It's nothing personal. No one knows. No one knew in the hospital except Merlin, obviously."
"No one else knows? At all?"
Arthur shook his head. "Look, I don't want people knowing. It's none of their business, all right? So just keep it between you and me, and please tell Gwen to keep her mouth shut, although she should have a good idea since she's in human resources."
Lance nodded. "It really doesn't bother me, all right? We're still friends – er, what do you call it? Mates. We're still mates."
"Good."
"This is great, actually," joked Lance. "Now I don't have to worry about you trying to steal my girlfriend."
Arthur just rolled his eyes and went back into ED 9, leaving Lance chortling in the corridor.
_
They had had arguments before, but not a fight until the day they left for New York City. Merlin had driven over to Arthur's house, his bag packed and ready to go. He put his stuff in the boot of Arthur's car and went inside the house. He'd been given a key early on, mostly because of their different work schedules. That way he could let himself into Arthur's house while Arthur was recovering from one of his mad thirty-six hour shifts and be there when Arthur woke up.
Arthur brought his own bag downstairs and set it by the door. "Can you look at the tickets? They're on the table. I want to know what gate we're leaving out of." He motioned towards the coffee table in his living room as he went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. When he came back into the living room, Merlin looked angry. "Are you all right?"
"You bought business class? These tickets are eight-hundred dollars. I'm not poor, but I can't afford to pay for this."
"You don't have to pay me back," said Arthur. "I invited you, I had no intention of taking your money. What's the big deal?"
"It's eight hundred dollars."
Arthur put his bottle of water down and tried to take hold of Merlin's hands. "Look, my parents are wealthy and set aside all sorts of money in my account. My uncle left my sister and me all his money. I don't have to even work if I don't want to. Paying is nothing. I don't even think about it."
"Lucky you."
"Don't be like this. If you want, you can pay for dinner."
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Don't placate me like I'm a child," snapped Merlin. "This" – he waved the tickets in the air – "is not why I'm with you. I don't want to feel like a charity case—"
"You're not!"
"Or a girl. I'm not a girl, Arthur."
"I'm well aware of what gender you are, thank you very much."
"I'm not comfortable with all this . . . money. It's not who I am. I don't know how to deal with it. I lived in a poor town in England. My house was small and old. My sofa had holes in it. I didn't live on an estate. I didn't have cooks and housemaids. I went to public school. I had to work for where I am and work hard. Things weren't handed to me. I don't take things for granted."
"And I do?"
Merlin didn't respond and Arthur grabbed his bottle of water and went to the front door. "If you're coming, lock the bloody door behind you."
They didn't speak the entire ride to the airport. They rolled their luggage up to the check-in desk and waited in line. Arthur looked at the row of screens on the wall showing all the arrivals and departures; he found their flight next to the words ON TIME.
Merlin touched Arthur's arm and he flinched, pulling his arm away. The touch was intimate and Merlin scowled at Arthur's reaction.
"You're not paying attention and you're next," snapped Merlin, his voice low. "My touch isn't poisonous."
"People could see," Arthur snapped back.
Merlin stared at Arthur and looked as though he was struggling not to roll his eyes. When they got to the check-in counter, Merlin weighed his bag first, took his boarding pass, and walked to security, leaving Arthur behind. They didn't exchange any words while they waited in security and stayed that way while they made their way to their gate. Once they were at the gate, Arthur sat down next to Merlin in the row of chairs, still silent.
"Don't sit too close," said Merlin. "Someone might notice we're traveling together."
"Merlin," whispered Arthur, feeling tragic, but Merlin stood up and moved over a chair, his hands folded in his lap, the look on his face calculating. Arthur sighed, feeling more wretched.
The plane ride felt long, much longer than it should have since Merlin wasn't speaking to him, but then again, Arthur didn't try to strike up a conversation either. When the flight attendant announced their descent into New York, Merlin finally spoke.
"I hate the way you are so sensitive to being touched in public. It's not as though I'm trying to molest you. I don't even try to kiss you. I was just touching your arm."
Arthur turned away from the window and looked at Merlin. "I know, but I don't like people knowing that about me. It's our business, no one else's."
"Who cares if they know? I really don't think the people working the ticket counter at the airport care whether we're traveling as work colleagues or lovers. They could give a shit."
"But I give a shit."
Merlin shook his head and looked forward. "This is fucking ridiculous." He sighed. "I'm not hiding who I am to be with you. People are going to know I'm gay. I'm not going to hide that. I don't care if you want to keep things quiet at the hospital, really, that's fine. But when we go out to dinner or the movies or when we go play pool at that pub I like, I don't want to have to pretend at those places. I'm tired of pretending to be your mate. I told you once that I wouldn't do it and now I'm putting my foot down."
"I went out with Lance and Gwen for you. They know – because of you, because I knew it was important to you."
"You didn't touch me once the entire dinner and you completely moved your arm when I tried to hold your hand under the table. Sometimes I like touching you, sometimes I like being touched. I'm not even obnoxious about it because I know you, I know you like subtlety and that's what I try to be!"
Arthur didn't know what to say, so he stayed silent for several minutes before venturing, "What about the money and the plane tickets?"
Merlin shook his head and looked at Arthur once more. "I don't know. I can learn to accept that you're going to spend far too much money on things, but I'm not going to live the rest of my life with you flinching every time I touch your arm in public. Stop being so scared and just give in."
"Sometimes I don't know what the fuck we're fighting about."
They didn't speak much as the plane emptied and their silence carried them through towards baggage claim. Outside the airport, Arthur hailed a taxi and the driver placed their bags in the boot of his cab. In the back seat they looked out opposite windows. Arthur's mind raced with the happenings of their day, trying to figure out why Merlin cared so much about money and why he, Arthur, couldn't allow himself to relax enough to touch Merlin in public, to kiss his cheek when they parted ways, to press their hands together while they waited in the queue at the cinema. The answers seemed to evade him when he tried to grasp them.
Arthur reached his hand over and touched Merlin's thigh. Merlin turned and looked, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly. Arthur turned his hand over, inviting Merlin's touch his. Merlin pressed his palm against Arthur's and Arthur knotted their fingers together. His eyes sought out Merlin's and he offered him a smile. I'm sorry, his smile said.
Merlin lifted their entwined hands to his mouth, his lips brushing across the back of Arthur's hand. I forgive you.
_