Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin.
Warnings: Masturbation and porn watching. Do I need to warn about porn watching? Who knows? There you go, anyway.
A/N: Thank you so much to mersan123, India Moore, Aerist, bubzchoc, lovePEOPLEandCOWBOY, dragooonthegreat, grayember13, DeadNotSleeping2048 for your lovely reviews, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!
~III~
"To be perfect…? 'Nothing's
perfect in this life,' I say.
Mealy, middle aged wisdom,
eat your words. See how
precisely he'll come to agree."
Merlin not talking to him hadn't gotten any easier. He's keeping up his campaign of aimless chatter, hoping against hope that he'll wear his friend down somehow, but Merlin's showing little sign of buckling.
Merlin's showing little sign of anything, actually. His face seems permanently drawn; a little crease etched into his forehead as though a frown is never far away. He never puts his hand up in class, or makes small talk with any other students. Arthur is in constant contact with Hunith and she's reassured him that Merlin is putting on weight but Arthur can see no difference. In fairness, it would be hard to spot the change under those baggy, long sleeved shirts that Merlin wears every day, even with the recent warm weather.
He has to trust Hunith's wisdom because he's getting nothing from Merlin. Gwen and the others are being similarly stonewalled, although they've put it down to exam stress and Merlin's obsessive revision. Gwen hasn't forgotten Arthur asking her to look out for Merlin, and occasionally she looks at him with a question in her eyes but it's not time yet. If he has any hope of repairing his relationship with Merlin, he can't tell anyone else.
Maybe when Merlin's better…
He's still worrying about Merlin's health semi-constantly, but now there's a new train of thought in his head.
He cannot, for the life of him, figure out how he feels about Merlin being in love with him.
It's weird. That's definitely the first and foremost feeling. All these years being friends and yet there was something he didn't know. Something big. And it changes everything.
Yet somehow, it also changes nothing, because it's still Merlin at the end of the day. Still Merlin and Arthur.
He's mad at himself for not noticing and he's mad at Merlin for not telling him, though he knows how unreasonable that is. And he feels guilty for all the times he went on about girls around Merlin, or ditched him to hang out with Gwen, or just generally acted totally oblivious. But how could he have known?
He scrutinises Merlin for signs of it sometimes, although he has no idea what he's looking for. A tattoo on Merlin's neck reading 'Yes Arthur I Love You and Here's What You Should Do About It'?
Then, there's the other feeling, the one he can't quite face up to. That he's flattered is okay, he tells himself, it's natural to react that way when someone likes you. That bit doesn't trouble him so much. But there's something else mixed in with the flattery. Something fluttery and tingly that doesn't feel at all conflicted about the news. And that's the bit of him he can't quite hold up to scrutiny, the bit he's trying his best to ignore.
It's pointless speculating anyway. The one person who could shed some light on the situation is the one person no longer speaking to him.
Besides, perhaps since Arthur told Hunith, Merlin doesn't love him anymore.
Arthur can't explain why the idea of that makes him feel so bereft.
He's not sure whether he's coming or going, to be honest. All this worry about Merlin, and then the break up with Mithian and the stress of A-Levels coming and now this new piece of information. He feels like his brain never stops turning it all over.
He's in over his head and unfortunately there's only one person who can help him.
~III~
Arthur genuinely doesn't want to talk to Gwaine. It's not that he doesn't love his friend (incredibly platonically, of course) but Gwaine is definitely not one to go to for serious conversations. Gwen is usually the friend for that but it has to be a guy this time. And Lance is certainly ten times better than handling real stuff than Gwaine but unfortunately, he's just not the right man for the job. He's too strait-laced for this particular problem and Arthur needs someone with a little more… life experience.
Doesn't mean he's not dreading it though.
It's hard to get Gwaine on his own but he deliberately way-lays him on the way to football practice, and by the time they get into the changing room, the others have already gone.
Despite the success of his plan, Arthur still has no idea how to start the bloody conversation. He fumbles around getting changed, hoping inspiration will strike him, but three minutes later all he has is:
"So, Gwaine…"
"Mmm?"
"The whole Merlin thing…" Arthur says.
"The whole Merlin being in love with you thing?" Gwaine says casually, fiddling with his shin pad.
"Shut up!" Arthur hisses, even though he knows it's only him and Gwaine in the changing room.
"Bee in your bonnet, Princess?" Gwaine smirks, and God did Arthur ever hate that stupid nickname right now.
"Forget it," he grits out but Gwaine catches him on the arm as he goes to leave.
"Oh come on, I was only messing. What were you gonna say?"
Arthur contemplates Gwaine for a second and sees that his friend is in one of his rare sincere moods. He decides to take the risk.
"I feel… I feel really weird about it."
Gwaine nods.
"Uncomfortable?"
"Yes. No! I mean, not the way you think, I'm not disgusted or anything. I just…"
Arthur struggles for a second. He can think of literally no way to phrase this.
"Ever since you guys told me, I've been thinking about… or not thinking about, but trying to figure out…"
"Whether you like him back?" Gwaine says, in his usual unruffled tone. Arthur gapes for a second, considering denying it, but something about Gwaine's nonchalance – as though they were just discussing the new Arsenal line up – calms him down a bit.
He sits on the bench.
"Yeah, I guess."
He gives Gwaine a sidelong look.
"You've er… before, I mean, there was that thing with that guy…"
"That guy who blew me?" Gwaine says with characteristic frankness.
"Yeah, that."
Never one to hold back on details of his private life, Gwaine had proceeded to tell them all in great detail what had happened when he went to a gay bar in Berlin last summer.
The girls had been intrigued, Lance had been half-exasperated with his friend's ability to get laid wherever he went, and Merlin had blushed pink and gone all quiet, the way he usually did when they talked about sex. Merlin had wryly commented to him later that it was a pretty poor show that his straight friend got more gay action than he did.
Arthur hadn't been particularly interested in the specifics at the time, but suddenly he wants to know more.
"Were you freaked out?"
Gwaine shrugs.
"No, I mean I was hammered, and he was a good looking guy and I thought, why not? When in Berlin, do as the Berlinians do, etc. etc."
"Was it…" Arthur can't believe he's asking this. "Was it good?"
"When has it ever not felt good to get your dick sucked?"
He had a point there.
"Since then, have you ever wanted to…"
"I've never gone looking for it," Gwaine says contemplatively. "But I can appreciate a nice looking guy when I see one, and I suppose maybe one day I might give it another go."
"Really?"
"Sure, why not? Life's all about the living, right? I thought once or twice about offering to relieve Merlin of that pesky virginity of his but he's so into you I doubt he'd accept."
Arthur's pretty sure his jaw has actually dropped, if that doesn't just happen in books.
"You would… with Merlin…"
"Sure. Kid's obviously scared about his first time, got it all twisted up in his head, I thought it might be nice to do it with a friend, you know?"
"That's mental." Arthur says finally.
"Well if you want to volunteer in my place…" Gwaine says, grinning, and Arthur can feel his cheeks heat up.
"Ha, ha," he says, and then sighs.
"I dunno what to do."
Gwaine looks sympathetic.
"It's a weird one, I'll give you that. My advice, don't overanalyse. Work out what you want."
"How?" Arthur can't help but ask.
"Watch some gay porn. Might help you figure things out."
Arthur realises he must look scandalised because Gwaine laughs.
"Don't overanalyse, Princess! Just relax."
Arthur rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet, but he claps Gwaine on the shoulder as they head towards the pitch.
~III~
He has absolutely zero intention of taking Gwaine's suggestion. But when he gets home that night, it niggles at him. When he lies down on his bed, he feels somehow nervous and excited, like something's buzzing under his skin.
He's out of options. Why the fuck not?
He has a beer, then another. Halfway through his third, he makes his decision and flips open his laptop, painfully glad that Uther's working late that night.
Searching for gay porn seems daunting, somehow. What if he gets a really weird one? What should he type in for just some plain old, no frills sex? He awkwardly clicks around one website, cringing at some of the more explicit titles, and finally finds one that looks fairly tame. He drains the rest of his beer in one long gulp and clicks play.
It's two men in the gym changing room, predictably enough. Well, no-one watches porn for originality, he supposes. They're both early twenties, one blonde and one dark haired. Arthur supposes that might be why he clicked on it and the thought makes him blush. But while the blonde guy perhaps does bear a passing resemblance to himself, Arthur admits reluctantly, the dark haired guy isn't much like Merlin. He's too built for one thing, muscly arms and broad shoulders. Not much like Merlin, with his concave stomach and his protruding collarbones…
Stop it.
He can't think about that right now. He tries to focus on the video, where the guys are exchanging stilted compliments about each other's bodies. Good to see the acting is of the same poor standard as in straight porn, he thinks wryly. Then they both begin to strip down for the shower.
It's okay, it's fine, he can appreciate the sculpted torsos and even when the underwear comes off he's prepared for it. But it's still a bit bizarre just staring at some other guy's dick like this because other than flashes in the football changing rooms (and it's not like he's really looking then) he never sees one.
If he was forcing himself to comment (and that is the whole point of this… experiment, anyway), he guesses the dark haired guy's dick is quite nice. Sort of quite straight, and clean looking. But even thinking that sends a flush to his cheeks, and makes him feel all weird. He quickly cracks open another beer and watched the men head into the shower. Then the blonde guy spins the other round, backs him up against the wall and starts kissing him.
And it's fine. It's kind of… it could be kind of hot actually. He doesn't know. Maybe it's just the alcohol warming through his body but it's not hard to look at. Two lean bodies pressed together, under the spray, kissing passionately.
Arthur shifts in his seat, aware that something may be stirring in his general crotch area. Maybe. Just a little bit.
But then the blonde guy suddenly breaks off the kiss and pushes the other guy down on his knees. And the dark haired guy opens his mouth and then…
Okay, this is weird.
This is really weird.
Not necessarily in a bad way, but just… obviously, he's been in similar situations himself but two men doing it seems so… alien to him? Or something.
He aims his stare determinedly at the blonde guy's face for a bit but then concedes there's no real point in doing this if he doesn't do it properly. So he forces himself to look at the, uh, main attraction.
The dark haired guy's lips are working up and down the other man, all pink and rosy. His cheeks are hollowing as the blonde grips his hair and moans above him.
The idea of being the man on his knees is a bit too much for Arthur right now, but he tries to imagine himself as the one on the receiving end. Surely it wouldn't be that different from doing it with a girl? A mouth is a mouth after all…
His crotch is tingling again. Slowly, experimentally, he undoes his jeans and pushes one hand down into his boxers. Keeping his eyes on the screen, he starts to stroke.
The blonde man looks very close to coming, but suddenly he lets go of the other one's hair and pushes him off. The dark haired man wipes his mouth, grinning, as the blonde pulls him back to his feet and kisses him again.
Arthur's cock gives a definite interested twitch at that.
But then suddenly the blonde man turns the other round and shoves him against the wall and then his fingers are shoving up inside him and he spits on his free hand, bends the other guy over slightly and then Jesus Christ, no-
Arthur slams the laptop shut.
That was just a bit too much. He'd been doing fine (more than fine) with the stuff before but then it all got a bit heavy and there were fingers and thrusting and it was all going way too fast and surely spit is a terrible substitute for lube, anyway?
Arthur forces himself to breathe, to calm down. He might have stretched himself a bit far, for a first attempt.
His other hand is still inside his boxers, although his arousal is sadly wilted now. But maybe he should try something a bit less full on? Just use his imagination so things wouldn't get out of hand?
He tries to picture a guy, any guy. Lance and Gwaine both flash into his mind but that seems horribly wrong somehow. Plus he doubts even the full force of his imagination could shut Gwaine's mouth long enough for him to get an erection.
He casts his mind around a bit more, then settles on Percy, the assistant football coach. He's considered a good looking guy, judging by all the girls who suddenly develop a great interest in football when he leads practice. He's stereotypically handsome at least, the kind of guy it would be easy to be attracted to.
Arthur gives it a go. He imagines Percy coming up to him after practice, maybe complimenting him on his footwork. Except that that's horrendously cheesy so he decides to just cut the dialogue and dive straight in. He imagines Percy taking his shirt off, imagines leaning in for a kiss, right there in the changing rooms…
Except suddenly it's horribly reminiscent of the video he just watched and he shudders, switching location quickly. Except he somehow can't really imagine Percy outside of a football setting, and the very image of him seems to be dissolving right before his eyes, whilst his own cock is resolutely uninterested.
He very gingerly opens his laptop again, with the vague idea of maybe just looking at some Google images to help him along. He quickly exits the screen that was open, leaving him starting at his desktop background.
Which happens to be a picture of Merlin and him.
Well, he supposes this is what he was trying to avoid all along. The most obvious solution, possibly the only definitive answer to the question of how he feels about Merlin.
And yet it seems so unsavoury, somehow. He's known Merlin since they were thirteen and now he's staring at a picture of him from Arthur's birthday party last year and trying to get his rocks off.
Merlin might have done exactly the same thing, an extremely unhelpful voice in his head supplies. He blushes at the thought of Merlin getting off imagining him. But mixed in with the embarrassment is a tiny hint of something else…
He recognises this feeling, even if he doesn't want to admit it. It's the same feeling he had when he brushed his lips against Merlin when they were fifteen, the same feeling he had when he walked in on Merlin and Gilli a few weeks ago.
Not jealously exactly, not possessiveness exactly, but some indefinable feeling deep inside him that Merlin was somehow his. His to look after; his to protect and laugh with and talk to and a hundred others things he can't put a name to.
And something much more selfish than that too. The fact that he wants to be the centre of Merlin's world. When they talked that night about Merlin getting off with Mordred, about Merlin being gay, Arthur was gripped by a sudden fear. Because until then he and Merlin had matched each other, pace for pace, and now it was suddenly like Merlin had run off on his own path, a path Arthur couldn't follow him down. And when he leaned forward and kissed him, it was like he was trying to say all those things at once; don't forget me. Don't leave me behind. Remember that you're mine.
But it's wrong, it's all wrong, Arthur knows it. Wrong to want Merlin to always be there for him, to fit in around his girlfriends and his football practice, to come running when Arthur needs him. Wrong for him to want Merlin to care for him above all others.
Arthur is suddenly rent apart by self-loathing, bitter and strong in his throat. And he hardly seems to know what he's doing as he concentrates very hard on Merlin's laughing face in the picture before him. He strokes himself painfully hard, imagining Merlin in front of him, imagining kissing his neck, running his hands through Merlin's messy hair. He imagines Merlin smiling, the way he is in the picture, the way he hasn't in real life for a very long time. He's palming himself rough and fast, there's nothing tender or gentle about and even fantasy Merlin seems to realise this because the smile fades from his face and then he's taking his shirt off and suddenly Arthur can see his skeletal shoulders and hollow rib cage and it's terrible but he's too far gone and comes with a gasp.
He slams his laptop shut for the second time that night, unable to bear Merlin's face beaming out at him. He sits there for a while before he cleans up, fighting the inexplicable urge to cry.
~III~
Thanks for reading! Appreciate you sticking with me. Sorry that this chapter was so awkward and weird, but Arthur is feeling awkward and weird so hopefully it works.