Chapter Text
[For PG 13 Alternate Bromance Ending please scroll through to your next bold heading. Otherwise there's gonna be porn. Just for your records. Ding. Turn the Page.]
Save they really did not go back to being bros.
Like they really didn't, in a kind of "super epic fail" way that most people in movies were never going to manage. Mostly because most people in movies would have realized they were in ~love~ that first time they had Truth Or Dare and Morgana and friends had made them make out no less then five times. It had been horrible, since Merlin kept laughing. The first time Morgana made them make-out for her sick amusement, they had been thirteen (Arthur fifteen), Merlin had had braces and Arthur had never kissed anything but the tender crook of his elbow before, and Merlin had been face attacked by one of his second cousins that one time. They'd given each other skived-out looks, called Morgana weird, then pressed their lips together blinked and waited for something happen. They waited three whole "leprechaun mobile homes” and then parted, rubbing their lips and drinking water. The second time had happen about fifteen minutes after that and Arthur had picked Merlin up, dipped him in an utterly ridiculous manner and licked his nose because Morgana had specified "With tongue, boys."
Merlin had punched him and then he'd had to climb the school flagpole and he'd been too afraid to come down again so Arthur had had to go get a ladder and get him down and soothe him with hot tea and biscuits.
They had refused to play truth or dare again until they were drunk and seventeen (or Arthur was seventeen, Merlin fifteen) and Morgana again dared them to make-out for five minutes and "make it good damnit," so Arthur and Merlin had looked at each other, shrugged, and swore to get vicious, vicious revenge. If Merlin had been a girl Arthur might have smoothed his hair out of the way, or nuzzled his way in, but since that was somehow weirder then just flat-out snogging him he hauled Merlin over by the back of the neck and put to use everything he'd learned from car-seat snog-session with Cassie. Merlin kept laughing, especially when Arthur bit his lip for show and Merlin hit him again. Then they'd broken apart and given Morgana the bow finger and dared her to go dance in the sprinklers in just her knickers, so there.
After that it basically went the same, depending on how much they wanted to mess with Morgana's head. On time Arthur had stretched Merlin out of the floor, hovered above him and given him ridiculous little chick-flick pecks until going in for the kill, until Gwen—new to the group—had made embarrassing squeaking noises and they had made porn noises until Merlin curled over laughing so hard he pissed himself a little and Arthur was laughing along with him. Of course then Morgana and Gwen had made out like freaking demon make-out women, or whatever, and it had just gotten uncomfortably hot. There might have been a few times against walls, and Merlin might have climbed in his lap that one time, but really, they were doing it to muck around with Morgana.
They'd got better at fake making out, since it was Morgana's favorite dare, and revenge for how many girls they'd made her make-out with. Which was kind of how she and Gwen had started dating. He'd seen Merlin naked more times than all of his girlfriends combined. They'd been friends since...like...forever, and they'd played "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" and realized there wasn't much difference at all and ceased caring. So it wasn't like seeing Merlin naked was going to turn Arthur's whole world upside down. He'd been there, wrote on it in Sharpie, got a bunch of pictures. It wasn't like Merlin could save Arthur's life again, or that Arthur could return the favor again and have that change anything. One mountain lion was enough, thanks.
It wasn't like either of them could walk in on each other having sex and get suspiciously aroused. It had just been embarrassing and weird.
It wasn't like he could realize again that Merlin was all he needed in his life: he was in uni without a particular course track in mind, but he was happy because Merlin was there. It wasn't like he could realize that he just wanted Merlin to be happy and protected and safe, because he'd realized that when he was eight.
They were a boring old couple. They'd done everything, honestly, save have sex and it wasn't like Arthur though having sex with Merlin would ruin their friendship because nothing could ruin their friendship. Everything had tried, and Merlin had moved to France for a summer, and yeah, they'd pined like all the Christmas trees in the world, and no he wouldn't live that summer again for anything and...
Okay dude, he was never going to find a girl he loved as much as Merlin, and he maybe had already realized that, and maybe already resigned himself to living in a two room flat with Merlin and both of them having sex on occasion, but nothing steady-not really-and he was cool with it, because you know, sex was awesome and all, no seriously-he was a fan. A serious, serious fan. He loved sex. He loved all the parts of sex, even the awkward weird noises and the faces, and the parts where you got naked for the first time, and even when it went horrendously wrong, he liked it then. And Merlin liked playing and frolicking in fields of hypothetical sex daisies: end story. He'd whine and complain, but he'd give up sex for Merlin, because Merlin got him. Arthur could kill a dude and Merlin would help him hide the body. Merlin would bitch at him, mostly because he hated heavy lifting, but that’d be just about it.
So there were really no more realizations to have to make them "fall in love," because they and love were chill and not going anywhere. Merlin was his best mate, Merlin had given him his mum for a birthday present, and Merlin knew how he liked his tea, and knew when to hug Arthur even when Arthur didn't, and they made the same joke at the same time, and though it was probably grossly against the honor code, neither of them had done a paper all by themselves since they first had to do "what I did over the summer," because Merlin took forever to get to the fucking point, and Arthur usually wanted to sum up his argument in a paragraph and be done with it.
Arthur didn't really care about anything else in his life, save that Merlin would be in it. And Merlin said they would have a truly absurd amount of bath products, Arthur really didn't mind, because he knew Merlin loved all the ridiculous scents things came in, and liked bubble baths, because his mum always ran him one on Saturdays when he was young and he got to make bubble castles, and now he still made them when he needed a bit of cheer up. If he wanted bubble bath and bath salts and a poofy puff thing, then he could have one. Arthur would mock him for it, but that came with the territory. Arthur just wanted Merlin in his life, stupid Sesame Street songs, poofy puff bath thing and rubbish haircut, and all. That's all that mattered.
Save for the part where Merlin ran away from home, because he was a sodding, bloody, moron.
Arthur knew where he'd find Merlin, of course, maybe not the exact location, but he knew Merlin wanted milkshakes when he was upset, and didn't want to be found, so he'd go to the most obvious place first to try and trip them up. Arthur hadn't fallen for that since they were twelve, and he really wasn't going to fall it now. He knew the best milkshake places were already closed, and so there was the 24-hour market, and the all-night pit stops that sprang up wherever there were universities.
So Merlin had gone to the market to get himself a pint of whole milk and chocolate ice cream, gone somewhere else to get a soda, made himself a rootbeer float until he'd run out of rootbeer and then proceeded to mash together milkshakes and feel sorry for himself. Arthur really needed to get him a portable milkshake maker of some design. Then Merlin could skip about stealing chocolate syrup and sugar and becoming a chubby Big-Eared boy and Arthur would have to roll him around. Which would be nice, actually, for Merlin to gain some weight. He'd been a chubby boy right until he was eight and started growing like he didn't know how to stop. Especially when he'd been eleven and had been feverish and aching with growing pains all summer, and Arthur had sat next to him and rubbed his calfs because Merlin hurt too much to play.
Of course the same had happened to Arthur when he was fourteen and Merlin returned the favor. They hadn't just grown up together, Arthur had thought during one of the aching sleepless nights, they'd helped one another grow up.
And since Merlin couldn't drive ("I'm not comfortable being in charge of a half ton of death. Besides, you can drive. You can be my chauffeur."), and no buses were running this late, that meant Merlin was sitting petulantly in a tree next to the filling station around the corner and hiding from the guy who sold weed on the corner. ("He's a drug lord Arthur. He'll have a gun or something. He's an American drug Lord." "Merlin, he's Chase from your third period class. He grows weed in his room?" "Guns.")
So Arthur put on a coat and went to stand under the tree and look up at Merlin's shivering feet.
"You cold?" Arthur handed up Merlin's heavy coat, which he kept forgetting to wear because he still thought it was fall and he could get away with the brown canvas he wore everywhere to everything. Merlin took it and stuffed his body into the heavy parka and dug his gloves and hat from the pocket.
Arthur climbed the tree and sat next to him as Merlin mashed his milk and ice cream together and it splattered on his face, but he didn't seem overly worried.
"So...this is not just a post-break up freak-out, then."
"You read me like a book," Merlin grumbled and continued mashing his plastic straw around and trying to get the ice cream to melt in the heat of his hands, but since his hands were likely freezing that wouldn't work. "This is easier in the summer."
"Probably," Arthur agreed. "Or, you know, they invented this magic device that mixes things like ice cream and milk together. It's called a blender, you blend things in it."
"Jerk."
"Idiot."
"Clodpole."
"Moron."
"Prat."
"Beanpole."
"Arse."
"Wanker."
"Bloke."
"What?"
"Exactly," Merlin smirked and then leaned against Arthur and kept stabbing his mushy confusion of a milkshake.
"So...what the hell is this?"
"I don't want you to date anymore girls. Most of them are really nice people, even when, you know, they aren't, but they don't deserve to keep getting cockblocked-"
"You can't cockblock a girl Merlin-"
"And it's not really fair, because I don't date anyone, because I'd rather hang out with you then go out on any kind of date, and you bring me on half your dates, so I think that's telling," Merlin sighed. "Arthur you knew where I'd be."
"Yeah, so? We grew up together. I know you."
"If Morgana ran away you'd have no bloody idea where she went."
"Morgana's not really the "run away and hide" type, Merlin."
"You know what I mean. You grew up with her, and you like her-don't even lie Arthur, you two are such siblings-but if she ran away you'd have no idea where to look for her."
"Yeah, okay, so I care more about what you get up to. So?"
"Arthur, there are married couples who know less about each other then we do. Anyone could ask you anything about me, and you'd know, and I could do the same. You know what I want for lunch better than I do."
"I know your "stew" face versus your "sandwich" face, that doesn't mean we need to stop seeing other people."
"Arthur, what is Sophia's favorite color?"
Arthur blinked and considered it a moment, "Um...yellow, I guess. She wears it all the time."
"Okay, fine, what's her least favorite color?"
Arthur didn't know.
"And my least favorite color?"
"Orange, but that doesn't...Merlin what do you want?"
"I'm tired of hurting people, Arthur."
"Okay, so what do you suggest we do?" Arthur said, because in a way, Merlin was right. Arthur liked the girls he dated, or he wouldn't date them, and he didn't just like them because they were girls. And it wasn't really fair to any of them to constantly rub in their faces that he would always love Merlin more, always want to hang out with Merlin more, always want to tell any secret he had to Merlin first. It wasn't really fair of himself to expect that he could juggle two relationships with anywhere close to that amount of depth. He didn't need a girlfriend, he couldn't maintain a girlfriend, and he really couldn't give any of those girls what they deserved: someone who could respect them and pay attention to them and want to be with them and not just collecting stories to tell their best mate later. "If you want to break up with me I'm not going to let you. I already told you last time I'd just chain you up in my basement until you got Stockholm's Syndrome."
"I keep telling you that's not how Stockholm's Syndrome works," Merlin muttered. "You're supposed to be Mr. Psychology these days. Making pricks out of bananas and all."
"Whatever, I'm putting you in my own private stocks if you try to leave me," Arthur took Merlin's pathetic excuse for a milkshake away. "And we're taking this inside."
"I'm not going to leave you. We don't function well without each other. Remember France?"
"We are never doing France again, ever. Ever. No France for you. I will keep you in Britain if I have to chain you with overcooked sausage or freeze your feet in mashers and throw you in the Thames wearing only a Union Jack."
"Do you have a lot of bondage fantasies about me, you crazy anglophile? You named me Merlin because you thought it'd be kinky, didn't you?"
"Francis is a name no man should suffer," Arthur helped Merlin down and they walked back to their building. Merlin grabbed his hand and that wasn't odd, since Arthur did that all the time, as Merlin was likely to get lost. Arthur tucked Merlin's hand into his coat pocket and Merlin stopped walking.
"No I mean..." Merlin said, squeezing Arthur's hand, "I mean like...with Morgana and Gwen."
Arthur didn't let his hand go and sighed, reaching over with his other hand to pull Merlin closer. "If this is what it's going to take for you to calm down, fine."
He cupped Merlin's face, maybe to tease him a little bit, because he was being a sodding mess about this whole thing, and kissed him before he could change his mind. And when his lips were there, pressed against Merlin's, who was clutching his hand tightly and Arthur realized they'd dropped the milkshake. Arthur noted that they weren't in a game of Gay Chicken, Morgana wasn't there, there were no spinning bottles, or five quid bets, alcohol, or anyone. It was just the two of them, under a street light. Arthur and Merlin didn't kiss for show, didn't go deep and messy to muck with Morgana's head and hear the girls catcall, instead Arthur just brushed their lips together and Merlin shivered a little. He pulled away and tugged Merlin's ear.
"Happy now?" He asked.
"You realize you've just proven that we're gayer than a parade for each other, right?"
"Morgana must never know," Arthur said, swinging his arm around Merlin's shoulders and hauling him toward their building.
"She'll knooooow Arthur," Merlin groaned. "She'll know and she'll tease us forever."
Arthur grumbled, but his hand tightened around Merlin's shoulder and Merlin grinned.
So they didn't exactly go back to their room and have wild monkey sex, because...uh...no. Arthur made Merlin a milkshake, sat him on the couch, and stole bites because it had been made with his bourbon, anyways, and Merlin and he stole each other's food. That was how it worked.
They went to bed and Merlin gave him a rushed goodnight kiss. It had been kind of weird, so Arthur had given him a goodnight kiss back, that had morphed into a few more kisses, getting wetter as Merlin pulled back to lick his lips, and stare at Arthur like he was all kinds of wonderful, and Arthur stared back because Merlin maybe was all kinds of wonderful, but Arthur wasn't going to tell him that.
Okay, there was a point when they were getting into it and Arthur may have kind of forgotten Merlin didn't have breasts and tried to cop a feel, but he hadn't been too disappointed when there'd been no feel to cop. Merlin had laughed at him a little bit. Arthur had tugged his lower lip and Merlin had flicked his tongue against Arthur's. So it had turned into a goodnight snog, but neither of them really wanted to go further than that just then; there was really only so much they could take in one night.
Though, since they fell asleep in the same bed, and they both woke up hard, it didn't seem like such a bad thing to continue making out. Arthur was the one who pushed his naked thigh between Merlin's legs, snug up against his boxers and Merlin flushed but rocked a bit, testing it out, and they both moaned.
It kind of spiraled out of control from that point, with them sticking their hands down one another pants and rubbing and jerking like they were worried someone was going to walk in on them, and moaning like there was no one around for miles.
It didn't really matter, because they were both them.
"Would it be weird to shout out 'this is my boomstick?' I've always wanted to, but thought it'd be weird." Merlin clutched Arthur shoulder and hitched his hips forward.
"Why haven't we tried this before?" Arthur pressed Merlin closer and decided that this was their weekend. They were not leaving for anything, because even though they were having a messy mutual handjob party, even though Merlin was bony and Arthur's wrist did not approve of what he was doing here, it was probably the best he'd ever felt during sex. He pulled Merlin closer just because he wanted him there and he was suddenly intensely interested in finding out what Merlin was like getting blown, getting fucked, up against the wall, his legs so tight and his body arching and...
Merlin groaned and Arthur kissed him again, disorganized and sloppy because he was having trouble focusing and then they'd just gasped and come in their pants, and Merlin kept cupping him, and Arthur returned the favor, and they just stared at each other across the bed.
"So....uh...do you want to catch up on the amount of sex we should have been having for years?" Merlin shifted and tugged at Arthur's hair
"Yeah," Arthur agreed. "Shower sex first."
And when they did go out on Monday, expecting the whole world to notice and care very deeply about their new dynamic, no one had, because nothing really had changed.
Gwen gave them giant coming-out hugs. Merlin's mum had responded to their relationship with a "yes dear, I know; have you been eating your vegetables?" and everyone else had blinked at them with a sort of "And...?"
Morgana had eventually realized they weren't doing this as an elaborate prank and started planning their wedding. Which was fine because Arthur had bought the ring two weeks after they started dating. He's a very forward thinking sort of fellow, no use dashing about, no sir, he liked it ergo- as according to Beyonce's very astute advice- he was gonna put a ring on it. He'd put six rings on it, he'd give Merlin enough rings to be all sorts of Christmas carols. He'd give Merlin enough rings to be bell if he wanted. Rings were a non-issue. Merlin would not be putting his hands up for Beyonce songs ever again, nuh-uh.
No one was going to be on Merlin tighter than anyone's pair of jeans, he would say Merlin's, but Merlin did not tend towards tight pants. Which was mostly for the best, because sometimes Arthur found himself fretting about the structural integrity of Merlin's ankles if he thought about it too much. They were just so small and dainty and he didn't tend to wear socks which meant they were out in the open! All the time! His ankles! He needed baggy jeans in order to protect his wee ankles from the world.
Also he tended to show up with six-packs of woolen socks at odd moments and thrust them into Merlin's confused (and often sticky) hands. "I got you socks!" He'd proclaim. "Don't be a girl about it."
"How does one 'be a girl' about socks?"
"Why are your hands sticky?"
"Why is Gwen gesticulating wildly and mouthing ducks to Morgana?" Merlin asked.
And from that point on they were the most sickeningly adorable couple ever, in a kind of filthy and vaguely kinky way, but no one needed to know that. They still got muffins when they went to coffeeshops for free. Arthur got them matching scarves that they Did Not Knit.
Merlin mostly used Arthur's to drag him around and look at window displays, but really? That was okay, because Arthur used Merlin's haul him over for a snog. Merlin was okay with that. Especially when he then got Arthur to give him piggyback rides through the holiday bedecked toystores.
And they did not rob any banks, because Merlin really would look rubbish in a pancho.
"The motion control sensor was broken!"
"If you had The Force you wouldn't have this problem.") and stopped sulking by himself playing Age of Empires II and getting ridiculously angry when anyone killed his Longbowmen, because they were his favorite and drinking a truly absurd amount of milkshakes, because he drank milkshakes when he was upset and convinced he and Arthur were dating. And so what? What you did on dates you did because you liked spending time with the other person.
"Merlin," Arthur had eventually said, "you realize that you're always going to be my best friend, right? I shouldn't have to tell you. You should pick up on these things. It's not like they're not obvious. Do you need me to pack a note in your lunchbox?"
Merlin shoved him lightly and that caused his lightsaber to do something strange and he flailed desperately trying to not die tragically. Arthur continued his hack and slash and when he'd come out victorious, again, he barreled into Merlin, lifted him on one shoulder, and did a lap around to living room as Merlin shouted "I cannot use the Force, Arthur is the greatest. And a complete wanker."
Morgana and Gwen peeked out, half dressed and Gwen flapped her hands and had to pop back inside the room to calm down.
"You boys are such boys."
"Shut up Morgana. This wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't become a lesbian just to spite me."
"I did not become a lesbian just to spite you. I became a lesbian because I like girls."
"We love you Gwen!" Merlin shouted, still dangling from Arthur's shoulder, "We're very glad you and Morgana are happily dyking it out. Please make cookies."
“Biscuits—or, since you're a giant baby and have once again lost to my extreme Jedi prowess, you could call them bikkies.” Arthur corrected him. “Speak the Queen’s English or I swear I will bury you in mashers until you do as I say.”
“The Jedi have no pride, Arthur. You fail at being a Jedi. Technically I win.”
Gwen laughed and Morgana huffed in amusement, “Arthur, focus.”
“I must convert this heathen,” Arthur bounced him and Merlin tried to wiggle Arthur to the floor. "See, but if you hadn't gone queer, I could have set you up with Merlin and then you could get married and we could play video games all day, and you could help me fix his gross mis-education as a child."
"You play video games anyways,” Morgana sighed.
“C is for cookie, and that’s good enough for me,” Merlin hollered.
“Bikkies. Merlin, biscuits."
“I wouldn’t want to date Merlin anyways. No offense Merlin,” Morgana added.
"But you match. You should make us biscuits to make up for your tragic breaking of my and Merlin's heart."
"I'm not making cookies. I'm going back into my room, with my girlfriend, and we're going to have hot tea. And by hot tea I mean hot lesbian sex. But it is still hot."
"I hate you so much, and I demand biscuits."
"Arthur, I have a headache. Make me cookies," Merlin complained.
"I beat you, you make me biscuits and I will eat them all until you can call them by their proper name." Arthur put him down. Merlin began a tickle fight for cookies/bikkies/biscuits.
And life, as usual, went back to normal, and they weren't too bothered by the fact that, yes, okay they grew old together and new had proper wives, but really? Do you need a wife when you find the love of your life when you're five? Arthur didn't think so.
He did make Merlin learn how to cook. And say biscuits.