The title for this chapter is a line from the song Blank Space by Taylor Swift.

Scientific Soul Mates

Chapter 9:
Nice to meet you—where you been?

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The night before the wedding, Leon, Morgana, Gwen, and Elyan decided it was entirely and completely necessary to take Arthur out for one last night on the town as a free man. They wanted to invite plenty more people and make it a proper bachelor party without the girls, but, he'd insisted that they keep it a small affair—and with all the drama with Uther still lingering and infecting every aspect of Arthur's life... well they couldn't quite help but give in to this one request of his. So it was just the five of them, a nice restaurant, and laughs and stories and questions and jokes and Arthur loosening up with his friends, shedding the drama with his father over the course of the following days to be able to properly enjoy this night out.

And really, it was the most fun he'd had since signing up for this whole marrying a complete stranger mess.

And it flew by all too quickly, the drinks and the laughter and the fun, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in his tux, palms sweating, hair neat, biting his bottom lip, fidgeting, heart pounding, stomach light and feeling like it could make him bring up his breakfast any moment now. He was standing just outside the room he was to be wed in, and the morning had been a blur of limo rides and half conversations and jitters and second thoughts and wonderings of what his husband to be looked like or sounded like or was like or what his family was like and if they were there and how they felt about all this and if he would freak out over all the half cups of tea Arthur left everywhere and come to think of it, did Arthur ever actually move those condoms and lube from his kitchen drawer or were they still there and maybe he should just run back to his house to move them real quick…

It was too late for that, however, because the next thing he knew, the very next thing he knew, the door in front of him—tan, oak, maybe, not a crack or imperfection in it—was opening, and he was moving, walking down the aisle—there'd been a coin toss on both grooms' behalf and it was decided that his husband would be the one waiting at the altar and Arthur would be the one to come down to meet him, which he was so thankful for; he really didn't want to have a roomful of witnesses for his jittery second thoughts and panicking—legs moving of their own accord. All eyes were on him as he walked, his friends, sister, coworkers—not to mention his soon-to-be husband's friends and family all watching him on their feet.

Looking around at them, they all seemed… fairly normal, he supposed, he wasn't entirely sure what to make of them, but he was sure he would make something or another of them soon enough. His heart was in his throat, pulse erratic as he let his eyes leave the people around them and focus instead on his fiancé—finally.

Finally

His breath hitched as he came to a stop just across from him, taking him in, giving him a long look. His thoughts left him, logic left him, everything but this moment no longer mattering as he tried to process, connect that face—all cheekbones and gorgeous blue eyes and looking amazing in his tux—to the title of husband.

Fuck.

"Hi," the man said, grinning, and, oh, that wasn't fair—even his smile was gorgeous.

"Hi," Arthur said back, smiling nervously, hands coming out of his pockets, trying to be the man he usually was in the court room—cool, collected, confident. But something about the way the man looked at him in return as Arthur held out his hand for him to shake—which was only habit, more than anything else, really—told him that maybe he wasn't buying it.

Regardless, he thrust his hand forward, grip strong, impressive; as they shook, the people around them were all chattering, muttering, about something or another, and Arthur got the vague feeling he should have… done or said something else, but this moment was already huge enough, encompassing so much of his mind, so many thoughts centered around them and oh, what the hell were words anyway?

Somebody started talking louder then, and Arthur drew his hand back, reluctant to do so as he tore his gaze off this man and looked to the woman who would be marrying them. Introductions. She was telling them the other's names. Ah, well, that was just a bit important, now wasn't it?

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" Arthur asked, feeling his face heat up when she laughed and nodded, his fiancé's chuckle making him smile despite himself.

"Arthur Pendragon," the woman said, nodding to him, "Meet Merlin Emrys. Merlin Emrys—Arthur Pendragon," she said, smiling wide.

Arthur nodded, looked from her to him, to Merlin—Merlin. It fit. Of course it did—and smiled as he said, "Nice to meet you, Merlin. Fine day for a wedding, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Merlin nodded, laughing. "Yeah, it is."

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