Coffee & Cigarettes
Part 4
A/N: I'm posting this way sooner than I expected! For some reason this part was really easy to write. I hope you enjoy the next installment of c&c!
They round the corner a few minutes later, and Gwaine has the good sense to light a cigarette. After a moment of contemplation, he offers one to Merlin.
Merlin lifts it to his lips with shaky fingers. As if on cue, Gwaine sighs.
"Damn it, Merlin. What happened?"
"I'm not sure," Merlin says, a smoky exhale.
Gwaine sighs again. "You were going to tell him. What went wrong?"
Merlin breathes in, breathes out, brings the cigarette to his lips, mulls it all over in his head again.
"He thought it was you," Merlin says, miserable. "I told him I love someone, and he thought I was talking about you."
Gwaine throws his head back and mutters beneath his breath. Merlin catches a few words, none of which he cares to repeat.
Finally, Gwaine looks Merlin straight in the eye. "Go fix it, then."
Merlin feels his eyes bulge. "What?"
Gwaine makes shoo-ing motions with his hands. "Go! Go now, and tell him what you really meant. Quick, before this spreads."
Merlin's eyes narrow. "Why? Are you worried about what people might say about you?"
Gwaine rolls his eyes. "No, you arse. I'm worried about what they'll say about you. First off, I'm straight- notoriously so, and-"
"Well, there was that one time-"
"Merlin!"
Merlin starts, though he feels the start of a grin. He wonders at this, wonders how he's able to smile after what just happened.
"I'm just saying-"
"You swore you'd never speak of that again."
Merlin taps his chin. "I don't recall."
"You were crying. You asked me to."
"I did not!"
"Begged me."
"Well. I liked it." Merlin grins broadly, and eventually Gwaine's mouth starts to twitch.
"Well unless you want to spend the rest of your life begging me for kisses, you've got to go back in there and tell Arthur the truth."
Merlin's mouth twists. The anxiety of an hour prior is filling him again, mixed fear and trepidation, churning in his stomach.
"This is so much worse than before," he thinks aloud. "I mean. Now, not only do I have to tell the prat I bloody love him, I've got to admit that I lied about something so ridiculous."
Gwaine nods, and somehow it doesn't come off as sympathetic. "The sooner the better."
Merlin puts on his best puppy-dog face. "Can't you pretend to be my boyfriend for a bit?"
"Merlin," Gwaine sighs. "Half our friends are here, and they won't believe it. And this is just going to fester inside Arthur... this can't end well for you, mate."
Merlin hangs his head. He can't imagine going to Arthur and taking it back, can't look past how pathetic it would all be; and certainly can't imagine saving enough face to profess his love straight afterwards.
"Gwaine. Can you just-"
"What is going on here?"
Merlin whirls, as though caught red-handed at something; then breaks into a relieved smile. "Morgana."
Her arms are crossed over her chest, one pointed shoe tapping threateningly. Her jaw is set. "What's going on?"
Gwaine's eyes narrow. "What are they saying?"
Morgana rolls her eyes, but answers. "Arthur looks like someone's punched him, and I managed to hear him mumble something about you two being together."
Merlin sighs. "I may have completely fucked up my confession."
"What confession?"
"I was about to tell Arthur- about to tell him that I love him."
Morgana's eyes widen. "What? Why?"
"What's the matter?" Gwaine cuts in. "Not what you wanna hear, Queen Mab?"
Morgana narrows her eyes at him in a way that would have lesser men cringing. But Gwaine holds his ground. "I didn't ask you, did I?"
Gwaine holds out his hands, mockingly appeasing; Morgana's nostrils quiver; and Merlin rolls his eyes. This push and pull is as old as the both of them.
"Morgana," he says, garnering her attention. "I talked with Gwen, and I decided that it was time. Alright?"
"Fine. What happened, then?"
"I... I started to tell him, and then somehow he thought that I was talking about Gwaine. And I let him."
Instead of launching into a tirade or turning quickly on her stiletto heel and walking away in exasperation, Morgana taps her chin thoughtfully.
"This could work," she says, to the surprise of all.
"How could... how does that make sense?" Gwaine gawps.
"You shouldn't have taken Gwen's advice," Morgana adresses Merlin, heedless of Gwaine. "And this- this is better than me, and better than Freya. Arthur's really jealous."
Merlin makes an odd sound in his throat. "I'm tired of playing games, Morgana."
"Merlin. Merlin." She rushes forward, takes one of his hands between hers. Her eyes, right in front of his, are green and earnest. "Trust me. This will work."
"It will not," protests Gwaine.
"Shut it, Gwaine," Morgana snaps. "What do you know about relationships, anyway?"
Gwaine lets out an exasperated "Excuse me?" and makes a rude gesture involving his hips, then chases that with a hair flip. Morgana rolls her eyes.
"I didn't say women, Gwaine. I said relationships. Need I remind you of Eira?"
Gwaine's eyes darken. Merlin quickly holds up a hand to his chest.
"Morgana, that was uncalled for," says Merlin with a tone he never employs with Morgana. "Cut it out."
She opens her mouth to protest, but Merlin's gaze keeps her quiet.
"Gwaine. It's alright," Merlin says.
"I'm not listening to you," Gwaine finally says, gaze hot on Morgana. "It's Merlin's choice. Whatever he wants, I'll do."
Merlin smiles, even as Morgana rolls her eyes and takes a step back.
"So," says she, a smirk in her voice. "What do you want, Merlin?"
Merlin looks between them, the rise and fall of Gwaine's chest beneath his hand and Morgana's infuriatingly arched eyebrow.
He knows what he wants to do, but he doesn't think Gwaine will be too pleased with it.
As though reading it on his face, Morgana pats his shoulder and laughs. "That's what I thought."
"I'm going to tell him the truth," Merlin insists, for the twentieth time, he imagines.
"Eventually," Gwaine says, deadpan.
Merlin pouts. "Please, for one hour, find me irresistable."
Gwaine huffs. "That's gonna be a tough one."
"Come on, Gwaine." Merlin pulls his lip between his teeth and forces his eyes to widen and finally Gwaine crumples, as he always does beneath the onslaught of Merlin's intentionally adorable face.
"You owe me," Gwaine grumbles.
"Big time," Merlin agrees cheerily.
They enter the church, and barely walk two steps before a small tornado that is Mithian crashes into them.
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Mithian grasps Merlin forearms and squeezes, stunning him, her face nearly splitting with her smile. "Oh my goodness, Merlin, this is great!"
"Er... thanks-"
"I mean, it really is! Congratulations!" She laughs, the sound at odds with the solemnity of their surroundings. "I'm so happy for you! This makes everything so perfect!"
"Doesn't it?"
Even more surprising that Mithian's enthusiams is Gwaine's sudden affability as he calmly slips between them, Mithian's attention shifting to him.
"It makes this entire weekend simply perfect," says Gwaine.
Merlin blinks.
"Exactly!" Mithian bursts. "You two look like such a wonderful couple... I've got to tell everyone... Aunt Violet! Aunt Violet!"
Mithian's aunt approaches, confused, along with a few other guests. Merlin feels the tips of his ears burn; he wasn't expecting this.
She congratulates them, smiling along with Mithian. Leon is among the people coming closer, and Arthur- Arthur's at the back of the group, gaze hooded, occasionally looking up at Merlin then immediately down at his shoes again.
"Congratulations." Leon's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Merlin swallows; Leon is one of their close friends from London, and he's aware of Gwaine's reputation. He also knows that Leon is unflinchingly loyal, and that he won't voice his confusion while they have an audience.
"Ooh," says Sophia, who also wandered closer. "You're gay?"
Whether or not it is intentional, she says it like an insult. Gwaine responds by wrapping his arm around Merlin's shoulder, drawing him closer fiercely.
"Yes," Gwaine responds, chin high.
"Shame." It's only a half-attempt at a whisper from Vivian. The entire group turns to glare at her, and Sophia draws her away.
"Why didn't you tell us you were together?" asks Mithian, trying to smooth over Vivian's rudeness.
"I wanted to," says Gwaine, exuberantly, and Merlin looks at him. "I wanted to tell everyone. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But Merlin..."
And here Gwaine turns to look at him, and Merlin realizes what's really happening. Gwaine isn't defending him, at least not anymore. Gwaine's teasing him; trying to embarrass him.
Merlin groans internally, bracing himself for the worst.
Gwaine delivers. "Merlin said he didn't want to tell anyone, not yet. Because this was your weekend, Mithian."
"Aww," Mithian coos, shockingly unlike her.
"Yes," Gwaine goes on. "'Let's not take the attention from Mithian. Adorable, sweet, precious Mithian.'"
Mithian's eyes soften and she looks at Merlin, who smiles weakly.
"Those were his exact words!" Gwaine looks like he's finally enjoying himself.
"Oh, Merlin!" Mithian clasps her hands over her chest, letting out a sudden, breathless laugh. "I think I'm going to cry."
"Me too," Merlin mutters beneath his breath.
"Isn't he adorable?" Gwaine coos in a way that's positively disturbing, his arm tightening around Merlin's shoulders. "I can just imagine..."
Merlin loses track of Gwaine's words for a second as he catches Freya's: "No- no, I don't care." Sophia's whispering to her in low tones, her hands moving over her forearms in a way that can only be described as soothing- but Freya pushes her away and stalks off, shaking her head. Merlin stares after her, brow creased in confusion and worry.
"... Arthur and I are really happy for you."
Arthur's name drags Merlin back to the present.
"Glad to hear it," Gwaine replies easily. Then: "Merlin's ecstatic. Bursting with happiness, this one."
Merlin fights to reign in a scowl. "Absolutely."
"Gwaine, you must come with us to lunch," Mithian says. "Gwen and Lance are coming too- it'll be wonderful."
"Oh, Gwen and Lance are coming?" Gwaine shoots Merlin a pointed glance beneath his lashes. "I'm definitely coming, then."
Inwardly, Merlin groans.
A second later, Mithian is called away by a frazzled woman in a violet suit, and Leon approaches them somewhat timidly. Merlin does not notice Arthur take a few steps closer, gaze resolutely on the floor.
Leon smiles crookedly. "Uh. Congrats again?"
"Thanks, mate," Gwaine replies easily.
"Gwaine." Leon's forehead is creased, a rare occurance. "Um. Aren't you... um... I mean, since when are you not straight?"
Merlin watches Gwaine's face, and for a moment he looks like he's trying not to roll his eyes. Then he grins.
"Merlin's enough to turn anyone, eh?"
Arthur turns abruptly on his heel, the line of his shoulders taut as he quickly walks away. Merlin's heart falls just as something in his stomach flutters, because Arthur's still being stupidly possessive; and it's a piece of him that's irritating and endearing and that Merlin selfishly loves associating with himself.
But Gwaine, it seems, won't let Arthur off that easy.
"Thanks for the well wishes, Arthur!"
Arthur turns, slowly. His eyes, when they meet Gwaine's, are dark and inscrutable.
"You're welcome," he snaps, before walking off again.
This time, Gwaine doesn't bother calling him back; and Merlin spots a self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches Arthur walk away.
"He's happy for you," Leon tells them, frowning after Arthur. "He's just a bit- confused, I'm sure."
"Why someone falling head over heels for Merlin would confuse him is beyond me," Gwaine says, eyes wide and faux-innocent.
This time around, Leon's laugh is a bit more natural. He pats Gwaine and Merlin over the back before departing, offering final well-wishes.
When they're relatively alone, Merlin grabs Gwaine's forearm and lets his fingertips dig in until he's sure it hurts.
"Ow. Merlin, baby, let go."
Merlin gasps, mortified. "Don't 'baby' me!"
Gwaine shrugs, but he's grinning. "You wanted me to do this. So I'm gonna do this right."
"By humiliating me?"
"Only if I can," Gwaine assures him.
Merlin rolls his eyes. "You made Arthur furious."
"That wasn't an accident," Gwaine says simply, before noticing that most of their friends were headed for the church doors. He tugs Merlin in that direction. "Let's go. I'm starving."
They follow Freya, Vivian, and Sophia out of the church. As soon as Freya notices them behind her, she scurries to the front of the crowd. Merlin frowns and tucks this away in his mind for future contemplation.
Gwaine nudges him, and Merlin finds him ogling Sophia's backside.
"How am I supposed to make an impression on these ladies if everyone thinks I'm gay?"
Merlin scoffs and hisses right back. "An impression? You just want to fuck them."
"Not them." Gwaine tosses his hair and pretends to look affronted. "But one, at least. Two."
"You're horrible." Merlin swats him away as Gwaine tries to grab hold of him, to whisper in his ear again. "Besides. It's a Spanish wedding. Do you want to sleep with someone who doesn't speak your language?"
Gwaine doesn't even blink. "Yes."
Merlin rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You'll have to pretend I'm enough for now. At least we speak the same language."
Gwaine scoffs. "Don't fuck with me, Merlin. I'm hearing a ton of English here. They're all English, especially those fine ladies with those-"
"Stop." Merlin presses a hand to Gwaine's mouth to stem the filth, eyes pleading.
Gwaine pushes at Merlin's chest, though without any real effort. When Merlin refuses to pull away, Gwaine's hand trail downwards and span his waist, pushing, and when that doesn't work, he starts to tickle.
It startles a laugh out of Merlin, who almost pulls away but resolutely holds on, and they don't realize they have an audience until Merlin catches Arthur's expression out of the corner of his eye.
Immediately, he stops. He tucks his hands into his pockets and takes a step away from Gwaine, blushing, refuses to meet anyone's gaze. But Gwaine is incorrigible, reaching for Merlin and pulling him close.
"Adorable," Mithian mumurs, eliciting a smile from a few who stand around here and a surprising glare from Freya.
Merlin tries not to think about Freya's odd behavior as he's maneuvered to a car- Sophia's, he realizes. Somehow Morgana climbs in with him, and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.
They reach the restaurant in almost no time at all. It's a lovely seafood place with an outdoor patio, which has been set up for them; cleared but for one long table. The guests take their seats. Merlin's mood darkens when he spots Uther, but brightens when Gwen and Lance shoot him quick smiles and take the empty seats nearest to him.
A moment later, his phone buzzes. A cursory glance reveals that it's a text from Gwen. How'd it go?
Merlin purses his lips and punches in a quick reply. Not too great. You'll find out soon enough.
He watches Gwen pore over it with, a frown curving her lips, with no small amount of guilt. A second later, Lance leans over to read the text, and Merlin feels like he wants to disappear.
The wine list is passed around, along with nonobtrusive waiters who quietly take orders and make suggestions. Leon, who is sitting on one side of Mithian, spreads a cloth over his lap and shoots her and Arthur a smile.
"I'm really happy for you." He beams, and his words sound very heartfelt.
"Thank you." Mithian's smile is just as broad, just as white. "I'm sure we're going to be excellent friends, Leon."
"I'm sure," he responds easily. "I look forward to getting to know you better."
Mithian holds up her hands invitingly. "Ask away!"
"Uh- now?" Leon flushes, then laughs a little uncomfortably. "Alright. Er, you're English, right?"
"That's right," Mithian answers. This comes as a surprise to Merlin; she sounds English, but it didn't occur to him that she was. He didn't think about it much, to be honest.
"But you live here?" Leon asks.
"Yes. I moved here a few years ago... my father needed to move here because of work, and we're very tightly knit. I couldn't stay behind."
"Ah." Leon nods understandingly. "Family's important."
"Yeah," Mithian says, smiling at Arthur and giving his upper arm a squeeze.
Merlin watches Gwaine tip back a glass of some amber liquid as though it's water. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and regards Arthur with squinty eyes.
Merlin's eyes narrow. This can't be good.
"So. Arthur." Gwaine leans forward. "Where's the honeymoon?"
To Merlin's left, Morgana begins to snicker behind her wineglass and tries to cover it up with a cause. Merlin narrows his eyes at her, both in warning and curiosity.
"Uh..." Mithian seems to be at a loss for a moment, then gives Gwaine a small smile. "There won't be a honeymoon."
Leon's pale brows rise. "No honeymoon?"
"There just isn't time," Mithian offers in explanation, and Arthur's starting resolutely into his lap.
"Ah, there's gotta be time for a honeymoon," Gwaine drawls. "Right, Arthur?"
"You're right." Arthur looks up, smiles tightly. "Wherever my route takes us, that's where we'll do it."
Gwaine wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Eh, Arthur, a pretty girl like that deserves a proper honeymoon. Right, lads?"
He recieves a few nods and noises of assent, Leon and Gwen among them. The older folk who were listening in give each other significant looks and start their own side conversations. Mithian's brow is furrowed and she looks very uncomfortable.
Gwaine seems to take pity on her; he lends her a kind smile. "Come on, I'll help you figure it out. Arthur, where's your next job?"
Merlin watches Arthur's jaw move; he's clenching his teeth. "Brussels," he grinds out.
"Alright. And Mithian, what do you do?"
Mithian's eyes widen, and for a moment she looks like a deer caught in the headlights. "Um... I'm..." She clears her throat, and the smile she plasters on her face the next second looks completely ingenuine. "I quit my job."
Gwaine blinks. Leon shoots Arthur a look but says nothing, choosing to tuck into his wineglass instead. Gwen and Lance exchange a look. Morgana looks surprised.
Merlin takes note of all of this and doesn't know how to react.
"I was an architect." Mithian's talking quickly, either to dispell the tension or her own panic. "Well, I still am, I suppose. I'm just going to be taking the odd job here and there from now on- you know, work wherever I can find it. Wherever Arthur goes."
She smiles, tremulously, and Merlin's heart suddenly aches for her.
"That's- that's nice," he says, lamely, then clears his throat and tries again. "It'll be fine, I'm sure."
"Yeah- yeah."
Mithian's aunt pets her niece's arm and gives her a second look, which Mithian responds to with a reassuring smile. Arthur stares into his lap then at the cieling, looking as uncomfortable with the entire situation as Merlin feels.
"Let's talk about something else." Mithian's aunt presses her hands together and leans forward, resting her chin on alarmingly sharp fingernails. "Merlin and Gwaine- how'd you two meet?"
Mithian breaks out in a smile- genuine, this time. "Oh, it's the loveliest story. Arthur told me. Arthur, would you-"
But Arthur suddenly makes a show of ordering more wine, and he doesn't answer. Gwaine, predictably, swoops in.
"It's the most romantic story." Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin notes how Arthur's eyes widen at the word "romantic." As do Gwen's.
"Tell us!" It's a teenage girl, Mithian's cousin- Merlin can't remember her name.
"Well." Gwaine straightens out his shirt, puffs out his chest, and flips his hair out of his eyes. Merlin isn't sure whether to laugh or to groan.
"I was crossing the street one morning," Gwaine starts. "And I didn't quite have my wits about me- hungover, I'll admit." Gwaine shrugs and somehow the gesture is as rakishly charming as the rest of him. "I'd just gone through a breakup."
"I love this kind of story," a woman at the far end of the table says.
"As do I," Gwaine says graciously. "I'm crossing the streets now, hands in my pockets, eyes on my shoes, barely aware of anything. Next thing I know, I hear a car honk- and a body crashes into me."
He pauses dramatically. He has the attention of the entire table. "I open my eyes, and there's Merlin- all elbows and knees and blue eyes." Gwaine shoots Merlin a small smile and a girl somewhere coos.
"He saved my life," Gwaine continues. "He's on top of me, pinning me to the ground- apologizing or some other nonsense. But I feel the ground rumble and hear someone yell and somehow I know- I know that another car's coming at us."
"Oh my," someone gasps.
Gwaine nods gravely. "I break out of my stupor long enough to grab his shoulders and roll, and the car swerves past, and we're safe."
A few of the intent listeners sigh in relief. Gwaine smiles and bows his head.
"And how'd you two get together?"
Gwen chokes on her wine, and Lance immediately pounds her on the back while offering a glass of water with the other hand. Merlin winces and sends her a glance, hoping his eyes hold enough apology.
"Yes, how did you two get together?"
It's Arthur, eyes hard. Merlin looks around; everyone at the table seems to be staring at him and Gwaine expectedly. Even Leon looks curious.
"It's not that great a story," Merlin says.
"Merlin, don't be bashful. It certainly is."
"It isn't." Merlin elbows Gwaine's side as discreetly as he can manage. "Gwaine asked me out, I said yes."
"But Merlin, you've cut so many of the details." Gwaine leans over him, getting too close. "Tell them the whole story, darling."
Merlin narrows his eyes at him. "You tell the story."
But then Gwaine leans back and returns his attention to the crowd, pushing his hair from his eyes, and Merlin realizes what a mistake he made.
"As you wish, love." Gwaine flourishes his arms, a grand motion that attracts everyone's attention; as if he didn't already have it. "I asked out Merlin... in a mental institution."
The table falls utterly silent.
"Merlin was there visiting a fellow student who'd gone mad due to the pressure," Gwaine says. A few of the women give Merlin cursory looks, and he calms himself by imagining the many creative ways he could get back at Gwaine for this.
"And I was there visiting Johnny Depp."
Mithian frowns. "The American actor?"
"At a mental institution in England?"
"Well. He thought he was Johnny Depp." Gwaine cracks a grin and gets a few answering laughs. "No, the poor fellow was deluded. I was visiting as part of a program- charity work."
A few of the girls coo, and more than one bat their eyelashes suggestively at Gwaine. Merlin rolls his eyes.
"So there I am," Gwaine proceeds. "Speaking to Johnny about candy and pirates when Merlin walks in, breezing from the electric shock therapy room."
His voice drops dramatically, and it carries a tone of wonder. "It was a Merlin I'd never seen before. Strong. Beautiful. A vision... in black."
Arthur's voice breaks in, like a shock of cold water. "Black?"
All heads turn to him. But Arthur's eyes are on Merlin, Merlin alone. "You don't wear black."
Merlin opens his mouth, but before he could form words to speak- and what was I going to say anyway? Stupid, stupid, stupid- Gwaine intervenes.
"He does wear black. Sometimes, Merlin wears black. Trust me, I'd remember." Gwaine's fingertips ghost over Merlin's collar, over the skin there. "His skin looked so white against it."
Merlin pulls back abruptly.
Gwaine goes on, unperturbed. "I said to myself... 'Is this Merlin? Is this the same Merlin I've always known?'"
A few of the women have their hands clasped in front of their chests. Mithian is at the edge of her seat. Gwen looks vaguely nauseated. Morgana looks like Christmas came early.
"I looked at Johnny, and I said... 'This is Merlin, but this Merlin is a siren.'" Gwaine's voice drops. "'Could this siren love me? Could my friend love me?'"
Someone sniffles. Merlin is tempted to bang his head against the table.
"So I looked again... and in that moment, in that moment, I knew-"
Gwaine lifts his finger, pointing, and Merlin grabs it before he could get into his stride. "We don't all need to know what you knew."
A chorus of raised protests meet this, and Merlin blinks.
"See? They do." Gwaine shakes his hand free of Merlin's and proceeds. "In that moment I knew that this was what I wanted. To end up like this."
"Aw," someone coos.
"So I look at Johnny, and I say... 'Johnny, what do I do?'" Gwaine imitates his supposedly helpless and confused tone at the moment. "And Johnny said..."
Here, Gwaine pauses.
He pauses for so long that people begin to shift in their chairs uncomfortably. Mithian stares at Gwaine, then Merlin, then at Arthur with a question in her eyes. Arthur shrugs and tucks into his wine. Gwen shakes her head and buries her head in her arms.
Finally, it's Sophia that breaks the silence. Her eyes are wide, and it's obvious she's hanging on to every word. "What did he say?"
After another moment of pregnant pause, Gwaine opens his mouth.
"The moment I wake up."
Merlin's jaw drops. Gwaine is singing.
"Before I put on my make-up."
Mithian breaks into laughter, covering her mouth with her hands. Mithian's aunt lets out an "awww" and leans into her husband, who sits beside her.
"I say a little prayer for youuu!"
It's Morgana, singing at the top of her voice- and it's shocking and beautiful, and several screams of delight erupt from the diners. Even Gwaine smiles, giving Morgana a subtle nod that Merlin catches.
Gwaine resumes serenading Merlin. "While combing my hair now..." A few of the older men at the table chuckle into their napkins, and the women are giggling unabashedly, staring at Gwaine with lights in their eyes. And Gwaine is certainly a sight; hands moving about theatrically, his hair a dark halo around his head, his voice rich and full and low.
"While wondering what dress to wear now..."
Sophia and Vivian exchange a look, then break into song together. "I say a little prayer for youuuu."
And then Mithian's father starts it, landing his glass on the table with a definitive clink and pressing his hands together.
"Forever, and ever, you'll stay in my heart and I will love you forever, and ever, we never will part and how I love you together, forever, that's how it must be, to live without you would only mean heartbreak for meee."
By the time he's through with the chorus, nearly everyone on the table has joined in. Sophia and Vivian and most of the girls are singing at the tops of their voice. The older women hold their husbands' hands, singing together. Even Uther is smiling, though his lips are pressed together tightly. Gwen seems to have relaxed somewhat, leaning on Lance's chest with their clasped hands resting over her heart. Mithian is clutching Arthur's arm and singing to him, and Arthur- Arthur is looking straight at Merlin.
"I run for the bus, dear..."
It's Gwaine again, solo. He loops an arm around Merlin's shoulders and nuzzles him, his breath hot on his neck. Merlin blushes.
"While riding I think of us, dear."
Merlin hears Arthur cough and is certain that his ears are beet-red by now. Gently, he pushes Gwaine away, who backs off but keeps an arm slung around Merlin.
Sophia sings at the top of her voice. "I say a little prayer for you..."
"At work I just take time..." Gwaine smiles, and Merlin feels the momentary press of it against his ear. "And all through my coffee break time..."
Mithian and Sophia and a few other voices chip in for the next line. "I say a little prayer for youuu."
The chorus comes again, and with it a crescendo of voices. Everyone's sitting up, singing at the tops of their voices, smiling until their cheeks must hurt at their friends and lovers. Everyone but Merlin and Arthur, it seems. Arthur's staring intently at him, gaze not wavering at all- and Merlin sneaks peaks at him from underneath his lashes, unable to handle much more.
Gwaine leans in, and Merlin wonders if the idiot was ever taught the concept of personal space. "My darling, believe me..."
Sophia joins in. "Believe hiiim!"
"For me, there is no one but you." Gwaine is practically singing into Merlin's hair. "Please love me too."
"Answer his prayer!" Sophia sings.
"And I'm in love with youu-"
"Answer his prayer!"
"Now, answer my prayer baby."
"Answer his praaayer...!"
"Forever, and ever, you'll stay in my heart-"
The table launches into the chorus again, and Merlin pulls back, dizzy. Everyone's singing, clapping, happy. Even Gwaine's head is tossed back as he sings, not a care in the world. Mithian squeezes Leon's hand and beams at him, which has him blushing. Gwen and Lance are hunched over, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. Merlin watches them all and feels misery creep into his stomach.
Mithian presses a kiss to Arthur's cheek, which he responds to by patting her hand.
The song draws to a close, Gwaine wrapping it up with a final high note. Applause breaks out, unfettered and happy, and Merlin gives Arthur a shaky smile.
He doesn't respond.
"Excuse me." Merlin pushes his chair back, not at all sure who he's talking to. "I need some air."
Someone points out that they're already outside, but it doesn't matter; they're behind him. Merlin walks at a brisk pace and finds the air startlingly clear, stabbing at his lungs.
A few minutes later, the peace is disturbed by an irritatingly familiar voice.
"Merrrrrlinnn."
Merlin turns around, sticking his fists into his pockets. "Dionne Warwick? Really?"
Gwaine shrugs, a grin on his face. "At least I'm not predictable. Gotta give me that."
Merlin rolls his eyes. "Sure. I'm half tempted to punch you, you know."
"Eh. It'd be worth it. That was fun."
"Fun?!"
"I've always wanted to be in a musical."
Merlin shakes his head- Gwaine is hopeless- just as Gwaine wraps an arm around his shoulder. "I've done you a solid, though."
Merlin snorts. "Hard to believe."
"You wound me." He sounds serious, and this startles Merlin into looking at him. "I've talked to Arthur. He's going for his final fitting after this, and I've made it so that you're going with him."
Merlin blinks. "Really?"
Gwaine nods, giving him a gentle smile- and Merlin wonders what he looks like, if Gwaine's suddenly gone all soft. "Yeah."
Struck by impulse, Merlin leans forward and wraps his arms around his friend. "Thank you."
"Well, you're best man. Wasn't hard," Gwaine says dismissively. But Merlin only tightens his hold, and he smiles when Gwaine responds in turn.
Arthur watches the embrace and wonders why it feels like someone's punched him in the stomach.
"You alright, little brother?"
He starts; though he knows the voice, knows the only person they could belong to. "I'm fine." He answers without turning.
The clacking of heels against stone signal Morgana's approach; a moment later, she's standing beside him. She rests her pale arms against the smooth wood of the barrier and jerks her chin to where Merlin and Gwaine stand, arms wrapped around each other.
"They look happy."
Arthur nods, the motion jerky. "Yeah. Yeah, they do."
Morgana looks at him, and Arthur holds back a shudder. Sometimes- sometimes Morgana's eyes, green and wide and knowing, look into him a little too closely. But no- it must be his imagination, or the lighting.
"Are you happy?"
Arthur opens his mouth and gets ready to deliver the standard answer- then freezes. He struggles to make his throat work, finally settling for stretching out his hands in a helpless gesture.
"I was," he says, and that's the truth.
Morgana nods as though she understands. For some reason, this makes Arthur angry.
"Were you- were you with him?" He doesn't know why he's asking, doesn't know why it's relevant, doesn't know if it even is. But now that the question's in the air between them he's breathing hard, dying to know.
Morgana, infuriatingly enough, rolls her eyes and chuckles deep in her throat. "He's gay, Arthur."
Arthur's mouth is open and he's ready to tell her off, for mocking him and for mocking this, when-
"Do you think I'd do that to you?" Morgana lifts a brow. "I wouldn't. God only knows what's wrong with your head if you think that, Arthur..."
Arthur looks down. He feels like a boy again, feels stupid like he used to when she'd beat him at something, at everything.
"You need to fix it, whatever it is."
Arthur nods, and his voice is hoarse when he uses it. "I know. I just..."
And there are those eyes again, that look; inviting Arthur to talk, to trust. And because there's so much to say and not nearly enough whiskey to get through it, because there's so much suddenly falling into place and it's too overwhelming, Arthur takes the coward's way out.
"It just looked like it was," he says. "You two looked pretty close- and I suppose you are. You're friends."
"Yeah. We're friends." Morgana returns her gaze to the horizon, and Arthur thinks he catches a hint of disappointment there.
"I guess Freya was a figment of my imagination too?"
Morgana gives him a look and Arthur sighs. "I should have known. I don't know why- shit, I've been acting mad this weekend."
Morgana shrugs. "I won't argue with that. But Freya... that was one-sided."
Arthur winces; he knows what that feels like.
"You, Freya, and Gwaine." Arthur bites his lip, holding back the bitterness. "Merlin's a lucky man."
Morgana eyes rest on something- probably Merlin, Arthur thinks, but he's not masochistic enough to follow her gaze and find out. Her lips curve in a soft smile.
"We're all a little in love with Merlin, aren't we?"
Arthur swallows and stares at his shoes, because that's a little too close to the truth for comfort.
"Aren't we going to your fitting?"
Arthur barely looks away from the road. "Yeah. After this."
Merlin raises a brow. "After what?"
Arthur shrugs. "Just thought- I don't know, we haven't spent much time together. Thought we might get away for an hour, before things really get hectic."
Merlin purses his lips; he's delighted, of course, but mystified. "I thought you were angry with me," he tests.
"When did I say I was angry with you?"
Now Merlin shrugs. "You didn't, but you acted angry."
"I did not."
"You did."
Arthur shakes his head. "What reason did I have for being angry with you, anyway? None, see?"
Merlin scoffs. "That never stopped you before."
Arthur cuffs him on the shoulder, but it's fond, and that floods Merlin with warmth.
"I'm joking, you know," Merlin says, because he doesn't want to ruin this. "I'm glad we're... I'd love to get away for a bit, spend some time with you."
Arthur doesn't look at him, but Merlin watches the corners of his mouth curl. "Sure."
A few minutes later, Arthur parks near the unmistakeable tan-and-blue of the beach. A few minutes more, and they're boarding a skiff, and Merlin feels as if something's been let loose in his chest.
"This is beautiful, Arthur." He runs to the edge of the boat, tilts so that all he can see is the blue-green of the seawater.
Strong hands grab onto his hips, and pull. "Get away from the edge, idiot."
Merlin pouts; and tells his heart to stop stuttering like a fourteen-year-old girl's. "Are you going to be acting like a mother hen on the entire ride, Arthur?"
Arthur lets out an exasperated sound. "It's not a ride." He reaches forward and ruffles Merlin's hair. "God, you're a child."
"You are! You are acting like a mother hen!"
"Shut up," Arthur scowls.
"Nobody has fun when you act that way, Arthur- I've got half a mind to get off the skiff."
Arthur snaps. "So what am I supposed to do then- not worry about you?"
He sounds serious, and upset, and Merlin wonders dazedly when they stopped joking.
What am I supposed to do, not worry about you?
"I'm sorry." Merlin reaches for Arthur's shoulder- wants to let his hand shift lower, touch, but gives a brief squeeze instead. "I didn't mean anything. You're not too insufferable when you worry, really. It's one of your more tolerable states, to be honest."
Arthur shakes his head, but he's smiling. "Babbling fool."
"Whatever you say." Merlin grins, agreeable, because Arthur hasn't noticed that Merlin's hand is still on his shoulder- or he doesn't mind.
But then Arthur does notice, casting Merlin's hand a suspicious little glance, and Merlin pulls back before things can get awkward.
They enjoy themselves for the next hour. The sky is bright and the water smells clean and the sway of the boat is hyptonic. Merlin and Arthur alternate between sitting together and walking up and down the boat, and Merlin basks in their proximity, in the comfortable silence.
"By the way," Arthur says cheerily at some point. "This isn't a skiff."
"What?" They're both lazy from the sun, and niether particularily minds.
"You kept calling it a skiff. This isn't a skiff."
Merlin hits him. "Insufferable snob."
"Just saying."
Merlin smiles. "You should have been a lawyer."
Too late, he realizes his mistake.
"At least you fit perfectly into your profession."
Arthur's tone isn't slow and relaxed anymore. Inwardly, Merlin curses himself.
"And you're doing your dream job," Merlin says, desperate to rectify the situation. "That's more than a lot of people have."
"Right," Arthur scoffs. "What I wanted is what Gwen and Lance have. That feeling. That partership. That's what I wanted."
Reeling from this sudden change of subject, Merlin takes a moment before responding. "Isn't- that's not what you have, right now?"
Arthur stares at the sea, his jaw an unrelenting line. "Mithian... she sacrificed a lot for me. To be with me."
Merlin knows what he's saying, knows the taint of uncertainty in Arthur's voice may ultimately work in his favor, but suddenly he's angry, because-
"You're such a prat." Merlin says it with such fervor that Arthur's gaze snaps to him. "Why should everyone have to sacrifice for you?"
Instead of blowing up or giving a heated retort or a cruel dismissal, Arthur's shoulders sag.
"It's... I don't know what it is." He sounds lost. "I've been taught so from birth, I guess, and... some things are just so fucked into you that you can't go back from them."
Merlin reaches for Arthur's hand. "You're not fucked up. You're great."
Arthur chuckles incredulously. "You just called me a prat."
"And you are," Merlin insists cheerily. "But you're a great one. The greatest prat I've ever known."
Arthur stares at him for a moment, then up at the sky as though it'll give him some answers.
"What am I going to do with you?" Arthur groans, and Merlin lets him because he's still holding onto his hand.
"Impeccable, sir."
Merlin catches his breath and tries not to stare, because impeccable is certainly the word for it. Arthur's standing on a short stool, dressed in his suit. The cut is flawless; it accentuates the bold line of his shoulders, the straight line of his back. The lapels hang off his frame just so, hugging his chest and accentuating the broadness of it. The seam of the breast pocket is near invisible, as is the gold tint that comes off the red tie when the light catches it. And Merlin was wrong, Merlin was so so wrong- the tie isn't garish at all, not when it's on Arthur, not when the shine of gold in it matches his hair. The shirt is white and crisp and the cufflinks gold; the trousers are expertly tailored and the curve of Arthur's arse has never looked so good. The mirrors catch and reflect Arthur's image so that there's a dozen perfect Arthurs, and Merlin's never felt so surrounded, so breathless.
"Merlin? What do you think?"
The sound startles him; words don't belong in this place of rapture.
"It's perfect, sir. Impeccable!" This comes from the tailor, who stands in the corner with measuring tape around his neck and his hands clasped in front of him, so much pride on his face that he might be viewing a work of art.
"Merlin? Close your mouth."
His jaw snaps shut with an audible snap. "Excuse me?"
Arthur smirks, descending from the podium. "You were gawping like a fish."
Merlin's mouth opens again, indignant this time. "I was not!"
Arthur shrugs. "Were too."
"Hmph."
"Am I fat now, Merlin?"
Merlin shakes his head before he can stop himself. "No. Far from it."
Arthur, fiddling with the cufflinks, looks up at Merlin then; really looks. Merlin's ears ring with the words Gwaine, Gwen, and Lance left him with, chanted like a mantra: Tell him the truth, tell him the truth, tell him the truth.
Then Arthur clears his throat. "I never properly congratulated you."
"On what?"
"You and Gwaine." Just like that, Arthur's not looking at him anymore; his cufflinks seem to be of immense importance. "You haven't had anyone serious in a while, and... this is good. Good for you."
Though he's annoyed, because Arthur can be just so stupid, Merlin can't help but notice how Arthur sounds like he's trying to convince himself.
He takes a breath, then takes the plunge. "Yeah. About that."
Merlin takes a small delight in the way Arthur's head snaps up quickly, so quickly that it must hurt. He delights in the way Arthur's eyes widen, like there's hope.
"Yeah?" says Arthur, and there's hope there too.
"About Gwaine and I... there's a bit of a huge misunderstanding there."
Merlin watches Arthur inhale, exhale. "Really?"
"Yeah." Merlin bites his lip, suddenly shy; what if Arthur takes this badly? What if he embarrasses himself beyond repair?
He shakes his mind free of those thoughts and continues. "When we were talking, at the church... you assumed I was talking about Gwaine. And, um, I was a bit shocked, and it was already bloody embarrassing enough so... I went along with it."
Arthur's eyes are huge in his face.
"It just seemed easier, at the time. It's stupid, I know, but.. Gwaine and I aren't together."
Arthur's eyebrows come together as though he's trying to underrstand. "But... Gwaine?"
Merlin chuckles. "Yeah, I begged him to go along with it so it wouldn't all turn out even more humiliating. Considering we had a musical at lunch, I guess I should have taken my chances, eh?"
Arthur laughs, the sound bright and clear and brilliant. "Wow. Wow. So you two aren't together?"
Merlin shakes his head. "No. Just friends."
Arthur nods, another breathy exhale escaping him. Merlin tilts his head. "Why do you sound so relieved?"
Arthur looks like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "What? I'm not- I'm not relieved."
"You look relieved." Merlin grins, loving the way Arthur squirms in his expensive shoes and his expensive pants and the way that flush is creeping up his neck. "Why?"
Arthur seems to deflate suddenly, his shoulders sagging, a sigh leaving him. "Alright, Merlin, it's true. I was... I was jealous."
Merlin's heart is thumping, too big, too big to fit in his ribcage. "Jealous?"
"Yes." Arthur glances at Merlin from beneath his lashes, almost guiltily. "I kept looking at Gwaine and... remembering what we had, and..."
Merlin stares at Arthur, mouth dry.
"I wanted to be him," Arthur admits, voice low; a confession, a secret. "I wanted to be yours."
His chest almost bursts; Merlin's in disbelief. This is everything he's ever wanted, everything he's been striving for, handed to him on a silver platter with Arthur looking so uncertain and endearing and-
But the calculating part of him- the part planted by Morgana- is fixatedly aware of Arthur's use of the past tense, and it isn't enough. So Merlin takes a breath and plunges, again.
"Do you- do you still want to?" Merlin's aware of the way he looks, of the vulnerability in his eyes, of the way he's wearing his heart on his sleeve.
Arthur's jaw hardens, and his gaze snaps from Merlin's face.
"There's Mithian," he says, and he sounds both determined and helpless. "She's- I have a duty."
Merlin stares incredulously. "A duty? What- what's a duty when there's your entire life's happiness at stake?"
Arthur stares at Merlin for a few seconds, gaze inscrutable, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Then he scoffs. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Merlin."
Merlin clenches his jaw and wills himself not to be hurt by that, to look past it. "Arthur. Arthur, look at me."
Because he won't, Merlin closes the gap between them and places his hands on either side of Arthur's face. He tries not to focus on the way Arthur's lips part in surprise when his hands come in contact with his skin.
And then, when there's a hair's breadth between them and they're looking only at each other and there's no room for lies, Merlin asks. "Do you love Mithian?"
A beat, a pause, and Merlin holds his breath.
Then Arthur reaches up and very carefully pries Merlin's fingers from his cheeks. Merlin swallows as Arthur- no, no- forces Merlin's hands back to his sides.
"What I said before- that was a moment of weakness." Arthur's expression had gone cold. "I'm marrying Mithian tomorrow."
Merlin takes a step back. He feels something catch in his throat, and- fuck, fuck no, don't cry, not in front of him.
But Arthur doesn't wait around to watch, sweeping from the room with the line of his back as straight as ever, and Merlin- Merlin tries to tell himself that the clenching in his chest isn't his heart breaking.
A/N: Omg, Gwaine was fun to write. And things are getting tense.
I await your reviews! :D