Chapter Text
Two weeks after the beginning of school, Arthur started dating Sophia.
“You okay?” Gwen asked as she, Merlin, and Will looked across the cafeteria to where the happy couple was. Sophia was talking animatedly to Arthur, and while he didn’t seem like he was enjoying himself too much, he also didn’t look like he minded, just smiled softly at her, and even kissed her once.
Merlin nodded. It was better this way anyway. Now he could move on from this whole Arthur Pendragon infatuation. After years of hoping and pining and generally being a giant drama queen over it all, now he knew where they stood. And even though they still hadn’t spoken, maybe one day, maybe, they would be friends again. He hoped. Until then—until the coiling around his bones loosened and unfurled—he would keep his head down and just try to not think about Arthur and how much Merlin missed him.
“Do you think he likes her?” Gwen asked.
“Who cares?” Will said turning back to his lunch. “She’s hot.”
Gwen punched him on the shoulder.
“Mr. Emrys,” Mrs. Dubois said. “Please stay.”
Merlin sighed. It was mid-November and it was so grey and dreary outside, Merlin just wanted to go on with his day, so that he could then go home and curl up under his covers. He packed up his stuff, and went to his teacher’s desk as the rest of the class left. The teacher looked at him with a sad smile and took out his latest exam.
His heart sank.
“I hate seeing students fail in my class, Mr. Emrys. Especially when I know they generally try hard. It makes me feel like I’ve failed them as a teacher,” Mrs. Dubois said with kindness.
“Sorry,” Merlin said. What else could he say, really? He just didn’t get maths.
His teacher nodded. “I know you’re a good student. So I’ve decided to offer you, along with the five other students who have failed this test, to re-take the exam.”
Merlin looked at her surprised. “Really?”
“Really. Now, if you want to do this, I will give you one week. I’ve prepared some review questions and exercises with examples to help you,” she said handing him a thick packet of paper. “Do these, and please come to me with whatever questions you may have. You know my office hours.”
Merlin grabbed the papers. “Thank… thank you.”
“You need to pass this re-test and the next exam, Merlin. Am I clear?”
Merlin nodded. Shit.
Mrs. Dubois smiled. “Okay. Go now, or you’ll be late for your next class.”
Merlin smiled back and left the classroom, almost running into Arthur on his way out. Merlin looked up at him quickly, whispered an apology and walked past to get to his locker in time.
Merlin stayed in the library after school to get started on his extra homework. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out a problem, when his paper was grabbed from under his hands.
“What the—” Arthur sat in front of him, looking at his homework. Merlin frowned.
“You’re still completely pants at geometry,” Arthur said. “I’m starting to think you really are a hopeless case.”
Merlin just stared at him. Arthur put Merlin’s homework on the table and dug into his bag, before handing Merlin a piece of paper.
“Look at my essay for me?” he asked a small smirk on his lips, but there was a soft pleading at the corner of his eyes.
Merlin took a deep breath. It had been weeks since school had started, weeks of not having their bi-weekly study sessions. Weeks of missing Arthur more than ever. Being angry at him was tiring. He really just wanted them to be friends again. He just wanted that.
He tentatively smiled back, and took Arthur’s paper. Arthur’s smile was blinding.
“You don’t really need me to do this anymore though,” Merlin said looking at the essay and not directly at Arthur. “You’re much better at it now.”
Arthur shrugged. “It’s always good to have a second opinion.”
Merlin shook his head and started to read Arthur’s essay. After a while he reached out, without looking up, and pulled out the chair beside him from under the table, the one where Arthur usually sat while showing him how to do a maths problem.
He felt, more than saw, the relief coming from Arthur. He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling too wide. It wouldn’t do to make Arthur’s ego even bigger than it already was.
Merlin knew he should confront Arthur. He should ask him to explain himself, to apologize, to say something. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to pretend everything was fine, so that they could be whatever they were before, so that they could be friends again, without this thing between them. It’s not that it didn’t hurt still when he thought about it, because it did, but he was starting to find it pointless to be angry at Arthur for something he couldn’t help. Sure, he was a git, but obviously he panicked and Merlin could really, really empathize with that.
Panic was like his best friend on most days. He guessed they just went about expressing it in different ways. So he decided to give Arthur a break, and wasn’t that very mature of him?
Except it was really hard to go back to ‘before’. When Arthur was so close to him, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had felt against him—the way his lips had felt and the warmth that had spread throughout his body, both soothing and urgent. His brain very helpfully edited out any hurt and disappointment that had come after that, and seemed to prefer re-playing on a loop the same images and feelings of want and need and having and lust. Which led to very embarrassing moments, culminating with Merlin having to wank in the school bathroom. He wasn’t proud of that one.
Bloody Arthur.
But all in all, they were pretty much the same. If he caught Arthur staring a bit too long at him, or if he was caught himself doing the same thing, they didn’t say anything. If Arthur’s fingers lingered a second too long on Merlin’s arm, they didn’t say anything. And if Merlin had started biting his lower lip again, they also didn’t say anything about it.
They talked about books and movies. Arthur tried to convince Merlin to let him read the stories he had written; Merlin playfully told him to fuck off. Arthur would jokingly hug him when he was coming back from one of his football practice—all sweaty and stinky—and Merlin probably never protested as much as he should have.
And well, there was Sophia. So really, Merlin wasn’t going there in his mind, even if his body was betraying him all the time. Then again, he was used to it by now.
“It’s like you’re putting your fingers in your ears and singing really loudly hoping the problem will just go away,” Gwen said.
“There is no problem,” Merlin replied.
Gwen snorted. “Yeah, and I’m the bloody Queen.”
“Mind your own business then, your majesty.”
“Oh, Merlin.”
“So, still mooning over Pendragon like an idiot?” Will asked. “You gotta let it go, mate.”
“Still crying over the fact that Freya left, even though you were never together in the first place? You gotta let it go, mate,” Merlin said.
“Touché. Let’s just play some games.”
“Yeah.”
It was the last day of school before the Christmas break. They didn’t need to be in the library, having finished all of their homework and exams, but they were there all the same. Merlin probably should have clued in, at that moment, that everything was so so very fucked.
Nevertheless, he continued to type away on his computer, while Arthur read a book in front of him. They waited for the bell to ring.
After several quiet minutes, Merlin took a deep breath and dug around in his bag, before sliding a small package across the table. Arthur lowered his book and raised an eyebrow at Merlin. This was a bad idea, thought Merlin, while his heart hammered so hard against his ribs, he was sure Arthur could hear it. He scratched at his arms, and dug his nails in his skin, the slight pain settling his nerves, focusing him.
“What’s this?” Arthur said.
“What does it look like, you prat?”
Arthur stretched his arms and grabbed the package slowly, almost hesitantly.
“It’s not going to explode or anything,” Merlin said rolling his eyes.
Arthur looked at the box, then at Merlin incredulously. “You bought me a Christmas gift?” he said in a small, uncertain voice, but Merlin could almost hear the awe in it. It made his insides go cold and warm at the same time, and he didn’t even know that was possible. It was so unsettling that a sudden rush of panic filled him.
“It’s nothing really,” he blurted out. “Just a book. And I didn’t—I mean… I bought it for your birthday in fact, but I didn’t give it to you, because well—” He stopped, horrified. He hadn’t meant to bring it up. They never talked about it.
Arthur’s face reddened and he shifted on his chair. He brought the gift closer to his chest, cradled between his hands.
“Yeah... about that. I never said—I mean I tried to—Shit.”
Merlin would have laughed, if he hadn’t felt like his whole being was slowly falling apart. It occurred to him, right then—like some sort of epiphany—that they were absolute rubbish at talking to each other, but that, more importantly, Arthur was the absolute worst when it came to apologies.
“Arthur—”
“No! Please, just… let me…” He leaned forward, looking at Merlin. There were so many emotions crossing his face and eyes, but Merlin thought he saw regret most of all. And fear. “Merlin. I’m… just, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t… shouldn’t have left like that. And I mean… yeah, just—sorry.”
Merlin took a deep breath. Arthur looked really sincere. He had thought that hearing these words from Arthur would make it better, somehow, but in the end, that’s not what he had hoped to hear. He had hoped that Arthur would tell him he did not regret kissing him. Still, it was nice to hear him acknowledge that he had acted like a pillock.
“You were a giant arsehole,” he said, surprised at the amount of anger that laced his words.
Arthur winced. “I know.”
Merlin wanted to ask did you really mean to kiss me? or did you like it? or would you like to kiss me again? or just why? Instead he just sighed and offered Arthur a small smile.
“Open your gift.”
Arthur looked at him surprised, but returned the smile—still strained at the edges, but a bit too blinding as well.
“You know,” Arthur said, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to tell people what their gifts are before they open them.”
“Huh?”
“You said it was a book,”
Merlin blinked. “I did? Oh, well, yeah. Well, I didn’t tell you what book it was, so there.”
“Still, you’ve ruined half the surprise. You really are pants at this.”
“Oh shut up, and just open it you twat,” Merlin said, annoyed.
Arthur just laughed and ripped the paper quickly, smiling brightly at the book, then at Merlin.
Merlin shifted nervously on his chair. “I hope you haven’t read it yet. Morgana did mention something about you sulking and reading a lot during the summer.”
“I wasn’t sulking!” said Arthur so fast Merlin was certain it was an automatic response, and he giggled. Arthur’s gaze softened. Merlin really wished he would stop doing that. “I haven’t though, read it, I mean. Thanks mate.”
Merlin waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the way his insides suddenly felt like molten gold. “Merry Christmas, you prat.”
Merlin met Owain at Morgana’s New Year’s party. He’d just arrived from Australia, moving in right next door to Lance’s house, just in time for the new year and new school term.
He was nice, and a bit shy—though Merlin imagined everybody would be in this kind of situation. But Owain proved to be funny in a sarcastic kind of way, and smart too. He was also very good looking.
Music was blasting from the enormous speakers in the living room. There was dancing, and lots of yelling and singing and playing happening everywhere. Maybe they were all a little bit too drunk, Merlin concluded. He felt light headed, but his limbs were heavy. The whole space was suddenly too stuffy, too noisy, rattling his bones, making him dizzy. Merlin wandered outside for a bit of fresh air.
He took a deep lungful of cold December air—tried to let it cool the heat under his skin, to let it clear his head a little. It had snowed earlier and the grounds were covered in a light layer of snow, sparkling lightly under the moonlight and the white Christmas lights. He rubbed his face with his hands. He didn’t want to go back inside quite yet, even if he was getting cold in only his sweater. He felt distant and a bit sad. If he was completely honest with himself, it was partly due to the fact that Sophia and Arthur were just having so much fun together. They were laughing and making jokes, and teaming up in silly games. Merlin couldn’t help but wish that he was the one doing these things with Arthur. He didn’t want to hate Sophia, it wasn’t her fault really, and even though she tended to be a bit shallow, she was actually quite nice. But he envied her so, so much. And he envied Percival and Elyan, holding hands and smiling at each other.
He groaned, trying to get his thoughts back on track, to not let himself succumb to self-pity.
He turned around and looked through the tall windows. Will was yelling a story over the music and slouching on Gwaine’s arm, clearly drunk, but Gwaine and Leon and Owain were laughing with him and they clinked their beers together like the oldest of friends. It made Merlin smile. Sometimes he worried about Will. Elena was dancing on a table with Vivian, and Morgana was laughing so much at them, she might as well have been rolling on the floor. The whole room was filled with happy people and Merlin suddenly felt so very alone.
He laughed dryly. Great. He had now discovered he was a sad drunk. Awesome. He hated when Arthur was right.
A sound from behind made him turn around sharply. Gwen and Lance were coming across the lawn arms around each other, their faces close together. Lance bended down to kiss Gwen briefly on the mouth. When they came closer to Merlin, he could clearly see their red cheeks, and lips, which could have been easily explained by the cold, but the happy twinkles in Gwen’s eyes and the way she dipped her head and blushed even more when she saw Merlin looking at them, told a very different story.
They stopped beside him and he smiled at them.
Gwen untangled herself from Lance’s arms. “I’ll be there in a sec,” she told him. “Just want to talk to Merlin for a bit.”
Lance dipped down and kissed her again, before going inside. Gwen turned to Merlin, not quite meeting his eyes.
“So…” Merlin said, teasing, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
She looked at him briefly, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.”
“What were you doing?”
“Lance and I were just taking a walk—
“and snogging….”
“Shut up! It’s not like that!”
Merlin gave her his best yeah right look, and she laughed.
“Fine, fine. There might have been some very good, very appropriate, snogging too.”
Merlin smiled at her. “Good on you Gwen Thomas. Lance is a very nice bloke… and very fit too.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Gwen said, with a giggle.
“So…” Merlin said. “You said you wanted to talk to me?”
Gwen turned a bit more serious. “Yeah, you big idiot. You’re being all maudlin and stuff. Trust you for being a sad drunk.”
Merlin snorted. “Well, I never thought you would be a horny one.”
Gwen just punched him on the shoulder lightly. “Hey, at least I’m getting something out of being here in the cold.” She looked at him for a moment. “Seriously though, Merlin, I just—I think—look, maybe it’s time to move on.”
“What are you talking about?” Merlin said, even though he knew already.
Gwen didn’t say anything though. “Have you ever even looked at other guys?” she finally asked, softly. “Because you never say. Your comment earlier about Lance being fit was one of the only time I’ve ever heard you say something like that about a guy. And I just wonder and… worry, too.”
Merlin wanted to be angry right now. What he did and who he liked was his own business. It wasn’t like he had to look at other guys all the time. Even if he didn’t talk about it, it didn’t mean he wasn’t looking! Except, Gwen was partly right. He didn’t really look, didn’t pay much attention really. He kept his head down, his wanting in check, his everything inside.
“It’s not that…” he said. “Not what—not what you think. It’s not only because I pine after Arthur. I don’t even really. I mean, sure I want him, or I mean—I wish we could be, but it’s obvious he has made his choice. I just… I’m not, I don’t know, comfortable, I guess, talking about it.”
“It?”
“You know… me. Liking blokes. I don’t think about it that much, is all.” He was really drunker than he thought if he was talking about it right now. “I mean, I would like, one day, to have a… boyfriend, sure. But—shit, I don’t know—liking Arthur was safe, I guess? It still is?”
It was hard to explain. All these feelings that he always avoided thinking about, he couldn’t explain it properly because he had never really pondered them that much. For all the thinking he did, he was also pretty good at avoiding doing it. It’s not like he was ashamed, at least he didn’t think so. He just… didn’t want to think about it.
God, he was hot suddenly. His skin was foreign on him and it was like there was a giant crack spreading across his chest, ready to break him in two.
“Oh Merlin—”
“Gwen, don’t. You sound like my mum. Please stop.” He took a deep breath.
“Sorry. Look. I don’t want to push you or anything, if you’re not ready. But, if you are, or if you want to try… something, anything, just to see, yeah? You should give Owain a chance. I think he likes you, or well, he, you know, would like to like you, I guess?”
Merlin almost gave himself whiplash turning toward her. “What?”
Gwen smiled at him. “He’s been looking at you all evening, and he even asked me some questions about you, like what you liked and what year you were in, but he might have been just trying to figure out if you liked boys. If anything, he thinks you’re hot.”
“He’s clearly delusional then.”
“Don’t be stupid Merlin, you’re quite handsome.” She put her hand on his mouth to stop his protest. “Shut up. Whatever you were about to say was probably stupid. Just… trust me, okay?”
Merlin looked at her for a moment, then took a look inside at Owain, who was still sitting on the sofa, laughing with Will, Gwaine, and Leon. He was very good looking, that he had admit. His eyes drifted to Arthur who was playing some sort of card game with Percival, Edwin, and Elyan. Sophia was further away, holding up a clearly plastered Vivian, but she said something, and Arthur turned to her and waved a little with a bright smile on his face. Merlin’s chest constricted. Gwen was right.
If anything, he had to at least give himself a chance. All this wanting, coiled and wrapped and tight inside of him, he couldn’t keep it there for ever. Couldn’t just hold on to it waiting for the release it wanted, because Merlin was too infatuated. Too scared.
Fuck, he was terrified.
“Okay,” he finally said.
Gwen smiled. “I’m not saying you should date Owain, or anything. But maybe you can get a good snog out of it? Or maybe, like, a blow job or something.”
He spluttered. “Gwen!”
She smirked. “Oh please, don’t tell me you don’t at least think about it once in a while.”
Merlin knew his face red—and not from the cold—when she burst out laughing as they both went back inside.
The snogging part happened two weeks later.
Merlin, Will, and Owain were playing video games in Merlin’s room. With Gwen officially dating Lancelot now, they had all drifted toward each other, so that now Gwen, Will, and Merlin were hanging out with Lancelot, Leon, Gwaine, and Arthur, which meant Sophia was there, and then Morgana and Vivian and Elena too. Owain was dragged in by Lancelot and they were just all sitting together for lunch on the second day, as if it had always been that way. Owain and Will had gotten along splendidly at Morgana’s party and went outside to smoke cigarettes between classes. Owain laughed and rolled his eyes at Will’s rants, which was the perfect attitude to have. He loved video games too. Which meant that on the third day, he came to Merlin’s house to play with him and Will.
Merlin was impressed by how easily some people were at adapting, changing, and reacting to change. For Merlin, it usually involved lots of alone time, and moping, and possibly panic. Not that he would admit it out loud, but his mum teased him enough about it to know that it was actually—sadly—true.
“Sorry, mates,” Will said after about an hour. “Gotta go, have tons of homework to finish.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes at him. He had never known Will to quit playing to do homework. He was more copy-someone’s-homework-before-class type of student. Will just ignored him.
As soon as Will was gone, he could feel the heaviness of the air settle on him. His skin itched.
“Wanna play another game?” Merlin asked, not quite looking at Owain.
Owain shrugged. “Sure.”
After getting up to get something to eat, Merlin sat back closer to Owain. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but Owain kept looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and Merlin kept thinking about what Gwen had said. He had had to watch Arthur and Sophia being together all through lunch today and all the days before that for two weeks. He had started studying with Arthur again, and Arthur kept touching him lightly and laughing with his head thrown back. It was all so very frustrating and Merlin wanted, he wanted the pressure to ease and he wanted… he wanted someone to want him. Owain seemed interested and why shouldn’t Merlin be allowed to have this?
Oh god, he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were unfocused and the controller limped in his hands.
“Are you okay?” Owain asked, looking at him with worry.
“Um... yeah, yeah, sure. I’m fine.”
“Mate, you’re very red.”
“I know, I’m just—I’m fine.” When did they get close enough for their thighs to touch?
Owain lowered his head to peer at Merlin’s downcast eyes. His eyes were really green, and Merlin smelled grass and a bit of smoke on him. He thought of summer fields and clover and bonfires.
“Can I kiss you?” Owain said in a whisper. His lips were so very close and smiling slightly as if he knew, the bastard, as if he knew.
Merlin nodded, swallowing his fear, because he had had enough of it and he wanted. Owain’s lips brushed against his softly, barely there, before he pulled back a little, searching Merlin’s eyes. And maybe that was it, that cautious gesture, not pushing—even though Owain’s breathing was faster and he was biting the inside of his cheek—maybe that’s what did it, because something snapped inside Merlin and he launched himself forward to recapture Owain’s lips in a surer, definitely harder, kiss.
Owain’s arms went around him in surprise, and Merlin clung at his shoulders tightly. Owain angled his head to the right, and licked Merlin’s bottom lip. Merlin made a sound in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, and opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, or why, and he couldn’t really think. But he liked the way Owain’s muscles moved under his hands, and the way his lips felt, and when his tongue touched Merlin’s, it felt liked electricity. It travelled through his body, from his mouth to his toes, sudden and bright and powerful, and he was pretty sure it was the best thing ever.
Owain was a great kisser. Well, Merlin didn’t have much of a sample to compare him to, but he was certain that he actually really, really liked kissing Owain. They both decided to keep things light and uncomplicated. Owain didn’t seem much interested in dating and Merlin found that he really didn’t mind all that much. He didn’t know if he was ready for any kind of relationship, the thought of it making him slightly uncomfortable. But he did know that he liked what he and Owain were doing together a lot.
Things were a bit looser when he was with Owain—when they were kissing, and okay, there was a fair bit of groping involved as well. But he also couldn’t really shake the way he thought of Arthur way too often still, and how his stomach flip-flopped every time Arthur smiled at him.
But Owain was bright green and full of summer. He didn’t smell like chlorine and his hands and lips said that he wanted Merlin. So Merlin pushed back with his own and spread his fingers on Owain’s back, kissed his neck and sucked on his collarbone, whenever and wherever he could. On his bed, in an empty classroom, behind the stacks in the library. It was nice and exciting.
He also did get a blow job for his birthday.
They didn’t talk about it much at school, but their friends seemed to know or suspect anyway, and it was okay. Will kept teasing him and asking him inappropriate questions, because he was Will and of course he would.
He ignored the look on Arthur’s face the first time Will made a comment at lunch. There was a lot of teasing and whistling from most people around the table, but Arthur had mostly just looked surprised. Merlin had felt only a bit guilty at the satisfied feeling spreading through his chest when he saw the slight hurt in there as well.
Arthur never brought it up when they studied, so neither did Merlin.
Arthur’s hands were stiller after that, though, calm and steady on the table, and they never brushed against him anymore. Arthur continued to smile and to be his usual annoying self. Merlin tried to ignore how much he actually missed Arthur’s hands—their fluttering and energy—and the way his skin burned when it was touched, but he wasn’t very successful.
They were all at the Pendragon house one rainy Saturday afternoon in mid-April. Arthur and Morgana had invited them to a movie marathon and they were all lounging around the living room, sprawled out on the sofas and floor. The sky was heavy and grey, making the room dark enough for the movies, the sound coming through the speakers loud, covering the splattering of the rain against the glass.
Merlin’s feet were in Owain’s lap while Owain kept playing distractedly with the frayed edges of his jeans around his ankles. Merlin smiled inwardly. Even though they were not dating, he liked that he was able to do that. He liked that he didn’t have to worry, that nobody batted an eye. He liked the simplicity of it. He liked being touched.
When the bowl of popcorn that was doing the rounds arrived in his hands empty, Merlin sighed and got up.
“I’ll go make some more,” he mumbled
“I’ll help you,” Arthur said getting up.
Merlin put a bag in the microwave and leaned against the counter to wait. Arthur opened a few bags of crisps into different bowls. The silence was thick and Merlin wasn’t sure why. In here the sounds coming from the living room were muffled and behind them, behind the humming of the microwave, he could hear the rain, strong, furiously knocking on the house, like it was trying to pass through, like it wanted in.
“So…” Arthur said after a while. “You and Owain…”
“What about it?” Merlin’s stomach tensed up, his lungs quivered.
“You’re like, dating or something? Because it never… never really looks like it at school and I—”
“You what?” He turned toward Arthur.
Arthur shrugged, though he wasn’t quite able to meet Merlin’s eyes. “I don’t know. I just wondered, I guess. You never talk about it.”
Merlin wasn’t sure what to make of this. Arthur’s voice was calm, almost casual, but his body was stiff, and he was avoiding Merlin’s eyes. His grip was tight on the edge of the counter. Merlin rubbed his face with his hands.
“It’s not like that,” he said. “We just… hang out, I guess.” He laughed a little. It wasn’t quite right. He hung out with Arthur and Will and he was sure he had never done with them what he did with Owain a few times a week. Very much sure. “With benefits,” he added to make things clearer.
“Oh,” was all Arthur said, but the tension in his body did relent. He just lowered his head and seemed to suddenly find the colours in the the marble of the counter the most fascinating thing in the world. Merlin was annoyed.
“Sorry, if that offends you,” he snapped a little.
Arthur looked up sharply, eyes wide. “No! Not at all. I mean not like that. I just—I thought. Fuck, I don’t know.”
The microwave dinged and Merlin took the bag of popcorn out and emptied it into a bowl. He was halfway out of the kitchen when he heard Arthur’s soft voice, sad and somewhat broken, almost completely swallowed by the sound of the rain and the greyness of the air.
“When did you stop liking me?”
Merlin turned around slowly. His heart was in his throat, his stomach in his feet he was sure that there was a big gaping hole slowly opening somewhere between the two, filling itself with clear, chlorinated pool water. Sudden irrational panic seized him at the realisation that Arthur knew. Then his brain caught up and he was stricken with another realisation that of course, of course, Arthur knew. Merlin had kissed him. Twice. Arthur just didn’t know how much.
Merlin put back the bowl of popcorn on the counter, scared he would drop it. His hands were shaking too much. “What?” he managed to say, and had to remind himself to take a deep breath.
Arthur shifted on his feet, looking out the window. “It’s just. I thought, you know, I just thought that maybe I… that maybe we… that you would be…
Something clicked in Merlin’s mind, a sudden, painfully bright understanding, sharp edged and cruel. “That I would be what, Arthur, waiting for you?” He put his hands flat on the cool surface of the counter, steadying himself. “That I would just pine away for you?”
Arthur said nothing, just hung his head down, pressing his lips together. Merlin was so fucking furious, he felt tears well up in his eyes. “Screw you Arthur. You have no idea. No idea.”
“I know—”
“No you don’t! You don’t. Remember Arthur, you kissed me, you ran away, you started dating a girl.”
He knew, deep down, that he was being a bit unfair. After all, Merlin hadn’t given Arthur any signals or clues either. Not after that first kiss almost three years ago, not after that second one either. He had just wrapped everything around himself. In fact, he would have been surprised and incredulous at the knowledge that Arthur did, in fact, want him, or had wanted him, or something, if he hadn’t been so furious right at that precise moment. So furious, particularly at all the things unsaid. All the things they never said and just left fester between their teeth, around their tongues, until they were just rotten shells of what they were supposed to be.
“Merlin I—”
“What do you want from me?” Merlin cried out, and he knew he was begging, underneath all his anger, he was just begging Arthur.
But Arthur stayed silent. His body was shaking, his hands were held in tight fists, but Merlin couldn’t see his face. He stayed there, trying to catch his breath. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, a thousand things he wanted to hear. He wanted to hurt Arthur, make him feel the way he felt. He wanted to hold him and tell him that it was okay, that he still liked him. He wanted to punch him, and he wanted to kiss him.
In the end though, he just grabbed the bowl of popcorn, and caught the end of his anger tightly.
“Figure out what you want, Pendragon, I’m not fucking waiting.” And he left.
It wasn’t the same with Owain after that. Merlin had said he wouldn’t wait, and he meant it. He wasn’t going to wait for Arthur to stop being stupid and finally decide what he wanted. But on the other hand, he also couldn’t stop thinking about how Arthur wanted him. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that, yes, Arthur Pendragon wanted Merlin Emrys, liked him even. Maybe. And now that he wasn’t so angry and hurt, he looked back on that moment in the kitchen, remembering the way Arthur had held himself—rigid and bent, small and fragile among the greyness of the sky through the window, his voice small, barely a whisper over the sound of the rain—and now, now Merlin could see how utterly terrified he had looked. How lost.
Merlin felt a twinge of guilt at the memory that he promptly smothered with more anger. No matter how terrified Arthur was, it wasn’t an excuse for the way he had acted, was acting.
But he didn’t know, did he? How Merlin truly felt? How he had felt all this time. Not really.
Merlin was vaguely aware of Owain’s lips on his neck, his weight over him, his hand cupping him through his jeans, but his mind was far away from it all even though his body responded to the touches of its own volition. He smelled grass on Owain’s skin. Merlin closed his eyes, images of green valleys stretching under a bright summer sky filling his mind. He tried to find comfort in that.
Owain pulled back, and Merlin opened his eyes to look at him.
“What’s wrong?” Owain frowned.
Merlin just shrugged, not really attempting to hide anything, or make up a lie. Owain sighed and pull himself off Merlin to sit on the bed, his back to the wall. After taking a deep breath, Merlin sat beside him.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said looking at his hands in his lap. He felt Owain’s shrug against his shoulder, then the comforting weight of his hand on his thigh.
“It’s cool, mate. Don’t worry about it.”
They sat in silence for a while. Merlin tried to figure out what to say, what he really needed to understand.
“Have you—how long have you known?” he finally asked.
“About what?” Owain leaned his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling.
“You know…,” Merlin stammered. Bloody hell, he couldn’t even say it. “About you. That you were—fuck—that you were gay.”
“Oh that!” Owain exclaimed with an insouciance that Merlin envied him with a fierce and sudden passion. “I’m not sure, maybe since I was, like, eight or nine. Pretty early on.”
“Oh. Were you—were you scared?”
“No, not really. I was… lucky I guess. I have an uncle who’s gay and him and his partner lived two houses down from ours. It was all very okay in my family. Went to pride parades starting when I was five and everything. Learning that not everybody was okay with it, that it wasn’t like, something ‘normal’ for everybody, was more of a shock than discovering I would very much prefer kissing boys than girls”
“That’s… great,” Merlin managed, though there was a lump in his throat, and he felt so foolish about… everything really.
Owain seemed to realised something was bothering him, because he continued. “I know I was lucky though, it’s not… it’s not like that for everyone. My first boyfriend, he hated himself so much, you know, and he was terrified. First time we kissed, he slammed me into the wall of an empty classroom, and pretty much just bit my lips. He was shaking so much” Owain laughed a little. “All I could think was how this was something that only happened in movies, you know?”
“What happened to him?”
“He... he stayed angry for a long time. But it got better. His dad though, oh he was a total arsehole. The worst. One time, he came home early from work and found us making out on the sofa. Mate, I’ve never been so scared in my life. He threw us out of his house, the both of us. David… David was just a fucking wreck. He lived with us for a while, then he moved with his mum in Brisbane. She’s okay, his mum. He’s okay now, too. Better anyway.”
“That’s—”
“Fucking awful?”
“Yeah…” Merlin tried to imagine what it would have felt like, to be thrown out of his house, to be so hated by your own parent. It must be devastating.
“What about you?” Owain said after a while.
Merlin closed his eyes drawing his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around them—wanting to be safer, to be surer in his body. “Around twelve,” he said. Owain said nothing, just waited for him to continue. “I was… I don’t know. I thought I was in love with this boy, or I don’t know. Looking back, it probably wasn’t love, just—I spent a year pretty much just thinking about it and being scared and thinking there was something absolutely wrong with me.”
“Wasn’t your mum super okay with it, though?” Owain said, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to startle Merlin.
Merlin took a deep breath, he had never talked about these things before, always tucked them in a corner of his mind. “I don’t know why I thought that. Mum never made any bad comments against any of it, you know, there was just stuff on TV once in a while, comments on the school grounds sometimes, nothing much really. I don’t know why I freaked out so much, why I’m still—Fuck.”
Owain squeezed his shoulder. “You know what I think? I think sometimes it’s not just the liking boys thing. I mean sure, it’s probably overwhelming because you, like, suddenly discover that you’re different, or that, you know, you’re not the way you thought you were, not the way people expect you to be. Then, like for you, you just find yourself in love with somebody. Or at least you like them a lot, or you want to snog them senseless. Either way, it’s new and you just don’t know how to deal with all the feelings, you know? I mean I think it’s pretty scary for everybody no matter who they like, so combine the two and some people just freak out. There’s no fucking manual to tell you how to deal. Some are better at it than others, is all.”
Merlin had a sudden flash of Arthur, hunched in the grey kitchen with rain battering the windows. Arthur living in a house of steel and glass and clean lines with a father that was almost never there, and a sister that was so very different from him.
He tried to shrug off the sudden sadness that came over him, all blue and grey and cold like the waters of a Northern lake after a downpour.
He turned to Owain. “That’s surprisingly deep, Brown. How insightful of you,” he said with a raised eyebrow, and yeah, maybe Arthur had rubbed off on him a little.
Owain just snorted. “Hardly. Sorry to disappoint, Emrys, but I was just repeating what my mum once told me when I couldn’t understand why David was so angry and sad all the time. Why he kept kissing me and pushing me away almost in the same breath.”
“Wise woman, your mum.”
“Yeah, that she is,” Owain said, stretching. “Don’t tell her I said that, though.” He smiled and grabbed the controller on the corner of the bed. “Let’s play some games, yeah?”
Merlin nodded and grabbed his own.
“So, know any other cute gay boys around here?”
Merlin laughed and shook his head at him.
“What? If you’re not going to put out anymore, I think I should—”
Merlin hit him in the face with a pillow. “Oh my god! Shut up and play, you slag!”
He spent the rest of his weekend in his room thinking about Arthur, and what Owain had said. Mostly, though, he thought about what he, Merlin, wanted. He’d told Arthur to figure himself out, but Merlin felt like the biggest hypocrite, because he didn’t truly know what he wanted. He just knew that he had wanted Arthur. Still wanted Arthur, probably, just.. .not like this.
He stared and stared at his netbook’s screen, trying to make sense of his feelings and his thoughts. He might have written a few absolutely depressing poems, but he would never admit to it. Nobody would let him hear the end of it. But he tried to imagine what he could tell Arthur—needed to tell him—and wrote it down. It was always easier to write things than to say them.
His skin itched all day. At night he tossed and turned, twisting himself into his sheets, digging his nails into his palms, wanking frantically because he couldn't stop thinking about all the times Arthur had touched him. He could taste the salt that permeated the air the day Arthur kissed him. He thought of all the times Owain and him had gotten off and touched each other, kissed each other, and how he had wanted them both in different ways. Now, all these touches and kisses and wantings seemed to twist and merge into his head, leaving him sweaty and exhausted and so fucking horny.
He wrote pages of words that, in the end, he decided were all pretty meaningless if he wasn’t going to say any of them.
Merlin was waiting for Will. Again. He sat in the hallway beside the classroom door where Will was doing his detention. It was a library day. A day where he was supposed to meet Arthur so they could study, and Merlin couldn’t decide if he wanted to go, couldn’t decide if he wished Arthur to be there or not.
In the end, he decided to have a quick look. If Arthur was there waiting for him, maybe they could talk. The thought made him laugh. Talking definitely wasn’t one of their talents, if the weight of all the things unsaid between them—living in the pit of his stomach—was anything to go by.
Arthur was not in the library, but he was leaning against the wall beside the entrance door, head down, hands in his pockets. Merlin almost turned around when he saw him, but stopped himself. Maybe it was time to be a little brave.
Arthur looked up when he heard him approach.
“Hey,” Merlin said.
“Hey.” Arthur picked up his school bag from the floor and dug inside for a folder that he handed to Merlin.
“It’s—I figured you maybe wouldn’t want to study together anymore, or something, so I made you this. They’re revision problems and some explanations on some theorems. You’re much better now, though, you should be fine,” he said in a low voice. Merlin saw him swallow hard.
He reached out for the folder. “Thanks. I… thanks,” he said, taken aback a little.
Arthur nodded and turned away, hitching his bag on his shoulder, every sound loud and strangely hollow in the empty hallway.
A strange wave of anger, and yearning came over Merlin. It pushed through his ribs, and around his lungs, up his throat, into his mouth—pushing, pushing at his lips demanding to be left out—and Merlin was powerless to stop it.
“I’ve always felt so tight around you Arthur,” he said, vaguely remembering all the words he had typed away during the weekend, all those words he never said. “Loving—I mean—fuck. Wanting. You. Wanting you from the start, has been an exercise in not letting go, in restraint, always, always so… I don’t know. In not drowning.”
Merlin took a deep breath, twisting his hands, trying to find some solid ground, something to hold onto. “I’m tired. Really, really tired. Bloody hell, Arthur, I’m… we’re only sixteen. Is this how it’s suppose to feel?” He laughed, and it sounded weird and strained to his ears. He let his eyes wander around the hallway, avoiding looking directly at Arthur, though he could see, briefly, that Arthur had turned toward him and was listening.
“I know I told you to figure out what you wanted and… and it made me think about what I wanted. I don’t think I’ve everything figured out or anything but—” He took a deep breath. “I want to finish school and go to uni and study and have fun. I want to… flirt. With other boys. Boys that won’t mind if I kiss them, and that won’t look at me with fear in their eyes every time something a bit more intense happens, even though I might be scared shitless too. That won’t run away. I also want to be that—the one that doesn’t run away, I mean.”
Merlin was shaking, and Arthur was silent, just standing there, looking at his feet. But the words were pushing and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—stop them.
“I want to be able to like them, or fuck them, or love them, or whatever really. It’s just so tight all the time, around me. Like I can’t breathe properly. Since like, I was twelve, or something. I just—I want to breathe again. I want that more than anything, I think. And I know you’ll laugh at me for saying this, roll your eyes and tell me what a weirdo I am, and that nobody speaks like this, like a book, but I don’t care. I don’t care anymore.”
Merlin was getting restless, his feet wanted to run. He wanted to get away. “Fuck, Arthur,” he said, maybe a bit too despairingly, a bit too angry. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s scared?”
Merlin couldn’t stand it anymore. He turned around and ran back to Will’s classroom. He might have been a bit brave, saying all this, but he wasn’t that brave. Not brave enough to hear what Arthur had to say. The plonker probably wouldn’t have said anything anyway. Merlin didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved that Arthur didn’t come after him.
Two weeks later, Arthur and Sophia broke up. Apparently, it was a mutual agreement and they seemed to still be quite good friends, so Merlin was inclined to believe it.
He quickly squashed the burst of hope that bloomed inside his chest at the news. If he wasn’t one-hundred percent successful at it, nobody needed to know. School was almost done, and then Arthur and Morgana would leave again for the summer, and in the autumn, Merlin would be fine again. Especially now that he knew exactly where he stood. Now that he had said what he had wanted to say.
“Last day of school, finally,” Will said, sitting down at their lunch table.
“Still have exams to do, though,” Vivian said, not pleased at the prospect.
“Are you and Morgana going back to Italy, this year too?” Leon asked Arthur.
Arthur shrugged and Merlin looked at him intently. “Father said we could stay here this year since we’re old enough to be by ourselves. Haven’t decided yet.”
“Me neither,” Morgana said.
“It would be great if you stayed,” Gwen said.
“Yeah, mate,” Gwaine told Arthur. “Stay and we’ll play football all summer, it’ll be great. Plus we can have parties at your place all the time.”
“Don’t think I’m letting you trash my Father’s house while he’s gone, O’Malley.”
“Moi?” Gwaine put on a fake innocent look. “I would never!” Leon slapped him behind the head.
“I’m going back to Australia for a few weeks,” Owain said. “It’ll be nice to see my uncle and cousins and friends again.”
“Don’t you have a date tonight though?” Will asked around a mouthful of chips.
Owain stretched his arms over his head with a big smile. “Sure do. Second date in fact. It’s okay though, he’ll be here when I come back.”
“Is that the fit bloke from the other day? The one from Avalon High?” Gwen said, her head on Lance’s shoulder.
“Oh, yes.”
“So, by date you mean…” Elena wiggled her eyebrows.
“I mean rushing through a pretence of a meal and making out like crazy on the back seat of his car, of course,” Owain deadpanned.
“Of course.” Elena nodded, equally serious.
Everybody laughed, and Merlin pretended not to see the look of surprise on Arthur’s face.
Merlin was studying in his room. He heard a knock at the front door, looked at the time, frowned when he saw it was half past ten, and went to answer it. He took a quick look in the living room—his mum was asleep on the sofa in front of the telly. He opened the door slowly, peaking out carefully. Arthur was standing awkwardly on the threshold.
“Arthur?” he whispered. “What—”
“I didn’t know,” Arthur said quickly.
Merlin frowned. “Wait,” he said and opened the door wider to let Arthur in. He put his finger to his lips and led him to the garden.
“Sorry,” he said turning back to Arthur after closing the backdoor. “Mum was asleep in the living room, didn’t want to wake her up.”
“S’okay,” Arthur mumbled. They stood in silence for a few moments.
“Why are you here?” Merlin finally asked. He was on edge. The air around them was cool, but comfortable. He could feel the heat coming off Arthur even though he was technically too far from him for that to be possible.
“I didn’t know,” Arthur repeated. “That you and Owain—that you weren’t…”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “I told you though. It was never like that.”
Arthur said nothing. Merlin looked at him. His eyes were big and bright and maybe a bit red, his cheeks were flushed and his hair in disarray, as if he had passed his hand through it too many times. The sprinklers on the neighbour’s lawn started up, filling the summer air with their staccato rhythm. The night was deep blue, tinged with patches of yellow from the light coming through the kitchen window.
“Did I fuck it all up?” Arthur said in the silence, his voice small and so, so very fragile. Merlin instinctively took a step toward him.
“Arthur—”
“Do you still want me?” Arthur asked in the same voice, almost as if he was talking to himself.
Merlin couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat, and his bones were trying, trying to stretch his skin, to accommodate the sudden rush of emotion that passed through him.
“You never said, you know, that time in front of the library. You never said if you still wanted me,” Arthur continued, taking a deep breath. Merlin held his. “I replayed it a thousand time in my mind, but I could never figure it out. You said that loving… that wanting me had been hard, and you went on about what you wanted in the future, but you never said if, right now, you wanted me. And I couldn’t figure it out. I can’t figure it out.”
Arthur’s voice broke. Merlin was terrified to see that there were tears at the corners of his eyes. Arthur was scratching at his arms and wrists like his skin itched. Like it itched all over him. Merlin knew, oh he knew that feeling so well.
A dry sob escaped Arthur and he rubbed his face with his hands. “Shit,” he mumbled, but his whole body started to shake.
“I was too scared, Merlin,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what to do, I still don’t, I just—fuck, I don’t—” Arthur pinched his lips together and Merlin could see, could feel, how very much he was trying not to break right now.
He remembered a morning, long ago, where his mother had held him in his arms, in a kitchen that had been too bright and too happy for Merlin, that had stripped him bare and had sent him crying, emptying the pool inside his chest. He remembered his mother’s words and how perfect they were and how beautifully they had slowly mended the tears in his skin, in his body.
So, without thinking about it too much, he reached for Arthur, all broken and shaking, crying into his hands, falling apart. He wrapped his arms around him and let him clutch at his shirt in too-tight fists—all desperation and need.
I love you I love you I love you I love you, he sang into his ear. He knew it was too early and too fast, but he couldn’t think of anything else, and all he wanted to do was to mend Arthur, to make him okay again.
Anyway, he really did love him, and it was the truth. It had been his truth all along.
They were both lying on their backs in Merlin’s garden, looking at the sky, the stars slowly pulsing above them. Arthur was clutching his hand a bit too tightly, but Merlin didn’t mind. He found it reassuring and marvelled at the simple fact that he was holding Arthur’s hand. For real.
“What made you come here tonight?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the sky.
“Morgana,” Arthur said. “I might have been a bit… frantic when I came back home after school, and well… she can be very persuasive you know?”
“She’s scary.”
Arthur chuckled. “Yeah well, she made me spill most of it, and then yelled at me. Told me I was emotionally stunted, and then held me and it was all very embarrassing and let’s not talk about okay?”
Merlin laughed. “I think that’s our problem, though, not talking.” He turned on his side to look at Arthur’s profile, not letting go of his hand. “Tell me.”
Somehow Arthur seemed to understand what he meant. He rubbed his face with his free hand. “You know, I think I always wanted to be your friend. Like you would come to the house with Gwen and hang out with Morgana, and I just… I thought you looked interesting. You smiled so widely and it was always so easy to see what you were feeling, like you didn’t at all try to hide it. Or something. I didn’t question much at that time, I mean we were what? Twelve?”
Merlin started to play with the strands of hair around Arthur’s ear. Now that he could touch him, he never wanted to stop.
“Then you went and kissed me,” Arthur said with a dry laugh. “You really did a number on me with that one, Emrys. I just—I didn’t realise it at first, because I was so bloody surprised, but just—I don’t know. Just knowing that you wanted to kiss me made me look at you differently. Then I just wanted to know you more. And when you were close I wanted to touch you, just to see what it felt like. I didn’t understand… well, I just thought—I wasn’t really confused at that point, I think, because I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
Arthur took a shuddering breath, and Merlin squeezed his hand tighter, and moved closer until the front of his body was against Arthur’s side, their entwined hands trapped between them.
“I started realising when… when you were sick that time and I brought you your homework. Your mum let me in, but you were asleep so I left the homework on your desk and I fixed your maths homework and then as I was about to leave, I just looked at you, in the bed… I can still see it in my mind, you were so pale and you looked small, and before I knew it I was pushing your hair off your forehead and bending down to kiss your cheek and, fuck, I realised what I was doing, and I basically just ran out of your house.
“After that… after that there was a lot of confusion, but I think I just pushed it down, you know? I just wanted to know you, and I just sort of tucked it away in my mind, completely ignoring it. But I think—I think unconsciously, I just wanted to be near you, and I didn’t know how to… deal with that. I just—I don’t know sometimes, how to show people… how—”
“Shhhh,” Merlin whispered, raising his head and kissing him on the cheek lightly. “It’s okay, go on.” He figured they could broach the subject of why that was, and of Arthur’s father, and all that came with it later. Much later.
“It was sort of easy to ignore for a while, except when we were together I just wanted to touch you more and more, and it was harder and harder to stop myself, until I couldn’t really ignore it anymore. And then because of that, I just started looking at other blokes, you know? And, like, wonder about them and… oh I don’t know. I just wanted, somehow. Then there was that day at the beach. Bet you remember that one.”
Merlin snorted.
“Yeah well, couldn’t stop myself that time, and Merlin, it was, shit, it was perfect and I completely freaked out. Because it was sort of like, a confirmation, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore, and I don’t know. Well, you were there. Then I left for Italy.”
“Where you proceeded to snog tons of girls.”
“Where I proceeded to snog tons of girls, yes. Just… I wanted to see if it would feel different with them.”
“Did it?”
“Yeah, it did feel different. I didn’t totally hate it though, which was confusing too.”
“So you, what? You like girls and boys?”
Arthur shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe? I think I like blokes more, though. Does that make sense?”
“Dunno,” Merlin said. “Probably. Doesn’t really matter though, right?”
“I guess not.”
“Why did you start dating Sophia then?”
“I thought that maybe, if I liked both, then I could just like being with Sophia and it would be less complicated, you know? Easier. Somehow. Couldn’t stop wanting you though, so I guess that failed.”
“Poor Sophia…”
“She was fine. We were more mates than anything. We never really snogged either. It was a bit weird, but between you and me, I think she’s one of us.”
“One of us?”
“Yeah, you know... I think she likes girls.”
“Oh! One of us! I see.” Merlin said smiling against Arthur’s shoulder. “We’re part of a group now, a community?”
“Isn’t that how it works?” Arthur turned toward Merlin, wrapping his free arm around his waist.
“I wouldn’t know,” Merlin said just as Arthur rolled him on his back, covering his body with his own.
Merlin smiled up at him and pushed back some stray hair falling over Arthur’s eyes. Arthur looked at him intently, his eyes still a bit puffy and red. It made Merlin’s heart seize inside of him.
Arthur lowered his head slowly and stopped when his lips were barely a millimetre from Merlin’s.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, and Merlin shivered at his warm breath over his dry lips.
“Yes, yes, please.”
Then Arthur’s lips were on his own, soft and a bit hesitant, which almost made Merlin roll his eyes, except it just took his breath away. He couldn’t stop the sigh of contentment, and the groan of yes, finally that escaped him as he pushed back harder trying to show Arthur how much he wanted this. How much he’d wanted this for such a long time.
Arthur supported himself on his hands on each side of Merlin’s head and Merlin fisted Arthur’s shirt at his sides, pushing, closing the space between their chests. Arthur whimpered a little and Merlin would have teased him if it hadn’t been the most perfect sound he had ever heard.
He took Arthur’s bottom lips gently between his teeth and nibbled on it a little, making Arthur smile. Merlin darted his tongue out and licked quickly at Arthur’s teeth, then pulled back and smiled at him. Arthur just surged forward and recaptured Merlin’s mouth with his. When their tongues touched, Merlin felt the jolt of electricity he liked so much pass through him. Arthur must have felt it too, because he moaned deep in his throat and the kiss turned frantic, a bit desperate. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s chest and tried to bring him even closer. Arthur grabbed at Merlin’s hair with one hand, pulling slightly, and there were teeth and tongues and lips and so much heat, Merlin though he would just burst into flames.
When Arthur pulled off, they gasped for air, but Arthur was grinning at him like a fool, happy. His eyes were dark and a bit wild, and it was the most beautiful Merlin had ever seen him.
He reached out and carded his fingers through Arthur’s hair, soft and slightly damp with sweat.
“I think you owe me your side of the story, Merlin,” Arthur said, still a bit out of breath.
“Ummmm, later.” Merlin rolled his hips upwards, bringing his erection against Arthur’s, making him moan loudly in surprise. Merlin grinned, and did it again. And again.
Arthur was biting his lower lip, visibly trying to restrain himself from being too loud.
He put his forehead against Merlin’s shoulder, breathing heavily into his neck, and soon he was pushing back against him—grinding his hips down, trying to find that friction, that touch—and Merlin smirked when he closed his teeth gently around Arthur’s earlobe and made Arthur’s hips stutter for a moment. Arthur bit lightly on his neck and Merlin threw his head back, stretching his neck, silently begging Arthur for more more more. Arthur shifted slightly so he could put one of his legs between Merlin’s, and there was an awkward moment of rearranging limbs, and bumping elbows and quiet laughter until yes, yes right there and oh god harder.
Merlin couldn’t help the sound that escaped his lips, loud and wanting into the quietness of the night, eyes fixed on the stars above. Arthur smelled like grass and soap and sweat, and so like Arthur that Merlin almost choke with the wave of want want want and more. Arthur left open-mouthed kisses along Merlin’s neck and jaw between breathing hard and mumbling incoherent words of want you and love you and Jesus, Merlin.
Merlin grabbed the belt loops on Arthur’s trousers and brought their cocks together harder, almost violently and all sense of rhythm they might have had at this point went right out the window. It was all desperate thrusts, and rolls of hips and grabbing at skin and clothes and opened wet kisses and come on come on come on come on.
Merlin came with a shout, almost surprised at how quickly it had built inside of him, all powerful waves rushing over him and only Arthur, Arthur, Arthur on his tongue. He tried to keep going, pulled at Arthur’s waist saying nonsense into his ear, telling him to come for me, and please please Arthur, until Arthur’s body went suddenly stiff, and he groaned Merlin’s name into his ear—which was now his favourite sound, hands down.
Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s chest and his legs around his waist, holding him close while his body shivered, never wanting to let go.
Merlin slipped back inside the house and woke his mum up. She startled when he put his hand on her shoulder.
“Merlin?”
“Yeah, mum. You fell asleep on the sofa,”
“Oh, well. I guess I should go to bed, huh?” she said, slowly getting up.
“Mum?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Um… Arthur is here, in the garden. And um… can he stay for the night?”
“Oh! But of course, dear. Let me get some covers for him. He can have the sofa now that I’m not sleeping on it”
Merlin grabbed his mother’s hand. “Mum? Can’t he just sleep in my room? With me?”
Hunith squeezed Merlin’s hand. “You and Arthur?” she said with no surprise.
“Yeah. Me and Arthur.” That made Merlin smile. “It’ll be fine, I promise, nothing will happen. I just want him there, that’s all.”
Merlin was glad that it was dark in the living room, except for the light coming from the telly, so she couldn’t really see his blush… or the state of his clothes. Hunith smiled at him.
“Okay, dear. It’s fine,” she said with a yawn. “Go get him, and tomorrow I’ll make you both breakfast.”
Merlin kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks mum.”
She kissed his forehead and walked to her room. Merlin waited until she had closed her door gently before going back outside for Arthur.
“It’s fine,” he said taking his hand. “You can stay here for the night, and tomorrow mum will make us breakfast and then we can study all day for our exams if you want.”
Arthur looked at their hands and then at Merlin and smiled. “You sure it’s fine?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay. Mum is cool. You can sleep with me in my room.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows and blushed but he looked pleased.
They went into the house quietly, Merlin never letting go of Arthur’s hand. They stopped in the bathroom where Merlin gave a spare toothbrush to Arthur. He let the thrill of happiness at the sight of them brushing their teeth side by side in the mirror run through his whole body, wrapping itself around his veins and nestling somewhere between his lungs.
In Merlin’s bedroom, he gave Arthur an oversized pair of boxers—that he never wore because they always fell off his hips—and a shirt that Will had once left and forgot about.
They climbed into bed, and laid face to face. Arthur brushed Merlin’s cheekbone with his thumb. Merlin closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
“It’s like drowning, you know?” Arthur whispered, a slight frown on his face.
And Merlin knew, god he knew. “Yeah, yeah it is.”
There was more silence, calm and warm and light against their skin.
“God!” Arthur said suddenly, shoving a pillow on his face, as if to hide. “I’ve turned into you.”
And well, Merlin couldn’t really help but laugh at that.
Arthur put his back against the wall and forced Merlin to turned around on his other side, wrapping his arm over his waist, bringing Merlin’s back against his chest. Merlin let himself be manhandled a bit—until he felt Arthur relax—and shivered at the ghost of his breath on the back of his neck.
Merlin took a deep breath and tried to let his muscles relax, tried to let himself be soft and pliant and comfortable.
“You know,” Arthur said against his skin. “When you think about it, we’re sixteen and we’ve already made a terrible drama out of our lives. That doesn’t bode well for the future”
“Maybe it does,” Merlin said, burrowing his nose into his pillow. “Maybe the drama is over now.”
Arthur snorted. “With you? I hardly think so.”
“You’re one to talk Mr. I-repress-everything-I-feel.” Merlin swatted at Arthur’s hand over his stomach.
“Maybe we’ll discover that we’re really brothers or something.”
“Or my mum will marry your dad and then poison him in his sleep for his money.”
“Sophia and Owain will conspire to break us up.”
“I will be in a car accident and while I’m in a coma you will fall in love with my twin brother I didn’t know existed.”
Arthur snickered and kissed Merlin’s shoulder. They fell silent.
“How do we know so much about soaps?” Arthur asked after a while.
“Fuck, let’s not go there.”
Arthur snorted and tightened his grip on Merlin’s waist. Merlin put his arm over his and slipped his fingers between Arthur’s knuckles.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispered, falling asleep.
“Yeah?”
“Stay here this summer. Don’t go to Italy.”
“Yeah, okay. Yes.”
Merlin fell asleep to the soft sound of Arthur’s breathing and the warmth of his breath against his neck.
“Tomorrow is my birthday,” Arthur said.
“That it is,” Merlin mumbled against Arthur’s chest.
They were on Arthur’s bed, and Merlin had just recently discovered how very much sensitive Arthur’s nipples were and how he liked the way Arthur hissed and then moaned every time Merlin lightly bit one then soothed it with his tongue. He bit lightly once more, and twisted the other nipple between his fingers, marvelling at the way Arthur’s back arched off the bed.
“My father’s coming back from his trip early tomorrow morning,” Arthur said breathless, visibly trying to stay in control, fisting the bedcovers tightly. “I think—Jesus, Merlin, fuck—” Merlin grinned and nibbled at Arthur’s nipples some more.
“I think… you should stay here tonight, and—fuck!—and have breakfast with us tomorrow.”
Merlin pulled away, ignoring the slight whimper coming from Arthur. He looked down at him, the blue of Arthur’s eyes bright and beautiful.
“Arthur, are you sure?”
Arthur bit his lip and nodded. “I’m sure.”
Merlin smiled at him, nervous and elated all at once. And proud. Arthur grinned back at him and hitched his hips to rub against Merlin. Merlin smirked and went back to kissing Arthur’s chest, biting and licking in turn as he went down along it, down to his stomach where he nuzzled the light blond hair under Arthur’s navel, down more where he mouthed at Arthur’s hard cock through his trousers.
“Merlin? What are you—fuck!”
One of Arthur’s hand grabbed at Merlin’s hair a bit roughly and Merlin hummed against Arthur’s cock, sending a shiver over his body that Merlin loved. So he did it again.
Later, they were both panting and sweaty, trying to catch their breath, and furiously, ridiculously happy. Merlin was both tired and restless, like everything inside of him wanted to come out and explore this bright, new wonderful world. He guessed Arthur felt a bit the same way, because after a quick kiss to Merlin’s forehead he swung his legs off the bed and got up.
“Come on, Merlin, let’s go for a swim,” he said, digging into one of his drawers, finding his swim trunks and digging some more.
The sun was bright and illuminated the bedroom, bouncing all around the furniture and the white walls, just to catch on Arthur’s skin.
He glowed.
Arthur was red and gold, Merlin realised, and laughed a bit, red and gold like his bloody kitchen. All warm and comfortable and… safe. Or at least he could be, if they played it right. And maybe, in the end, Arthur had always been that way, and it was Merlin who was full of shifting blues and greens, tones of aquamarine. Who knew really?
Maybe they could mix somehow. He wondered what kind of colour they would make then, and if it’d be beautiful. He laughed some more, unable to contain all the elation blooming in his chest.
“Stop giggling to yourself like an idiot,” Arthur said, throwing a pair of black swim trunks at Merlin’s face. “Come on.”
Merlin got dressed and they raced all through the house, out the back, and straight into the pool.
Merlin hadn’t been in this pool since that day, three years ago—though he had stayed in it much, much longer, carrying it everywhere he went. It felt like yesterday and it felt like forever ago. It was both foreign and deeply familiar. He swam for a while, eyes wide open, looking at the shadows shifting around him, at the way the sunlight pierced the water.
He emerged with a great gasp of air.
Merlin grabbed the diving board’s side with two hands, his arms more bent than they had been three years ago. He looked over his shoulder at Arthur with a small smile and Arthur smirked. He swam to him and grabbed the board in front of Merlin. His shoulders were wider, his hands larger, but he had the same smile, and water drops clung to his skin, making Merlin want to reach out and capture them one by one with his fingertips.
Arthur kicked him gently under the water. “You could tell me about that day,” he said.
“I could,” Merlin said. “You know we still have to sort through a whole bunch of shit, yeah?”
Arthur just rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”
“You know this is all so very fucked and twisted, right?”
Arthur shrugged, but kept on smiling. “We’re teenagers, Merlin, we’re expected to be complicated and fucked,“ he said. Then he added, more softly: “We can untangle ourselves, though. Right?”
Merlin shook his head at the slight insecurity in Arthur’s voice, kicked him back, and grinned at him from under his eyelashes. Arthur burst out laughing, head thrown back, and Merlin could not help himself any longer, so he let go of the board and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck. Holding Arthur’s head in his hands, he kept his lips close to Arthur’s, but didn’t touch him.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” Arthur said softly.
“I don’t know,” Merlin whispered. “Last time I kissed you in this pool, I got my head shoved underwater for my trouble.”
Arthur rolled his eyes again and sighed. “Stop being so melodramatic Merlin, and bloody kiss me already.”
Merlin obliged. He nibbled softly at Arthur’s lower lip, before licking quickly across the teeth and lips stretched in a smile under his, tasting the water there, tasting the sunshine.
“Yeah, yeah, we can do the untangling bit,” he finally answered when he pulled back a little, his words ghosting across Arthur’s cheek. Arthur moved his head a little and nuzzled Merlin’s neck.
And finally, finally, with his lips against Arthur’s jaw, and Arthur’s breath on his neck and shoulder, their bodies sticking together with heat and cold and water, and sweat—with sunshine all red and gold and blue, and green—Merlin felt himself unfurl slowly, his lungs expanding in a great whoosh of air. His muscles loosened, his veins spread, his skin stretched and stretched, his bones fell slightly into place. Yes, he thought, finally.
Merlin supported himself with one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and grabbed his hair in the other, pulling back to look at him, a grin on his face. Arthur smirked. He let go of the board with one hand and lightly took hold of Merlin’s hair with it. Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist underwater.
They looked at each other for a moment. Merlin took a deep breath, Arthur smiled—wide and blinding—and together, they dove.
THE END.