Something Hitch-ish

by Excited_Insomniac

Summary:

Every time Merlin has ever dated someone, they have inevitably found their true love and dumped him. Now Morgana wants him to use his 'superpower' to save her brother from a lifetime of misery. Merlin, foolishly, agrees.

Notes:

I have all but the last two and a half chapters of this written, and will put a new chapter up every so often until it's finished. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

1.

Merlin was unceremoniously awoken at 7:15 on a Saturday thankyouverymuch by Morgana calling him and diving right in with, “So you know your superpower?” when he—very reluctantly—answered.

“Do I know my superpower,” Merlin repeated groggily. “Morgana, before nine AM, I don’t even know my own name.”

“Then I’m flattered you know mine,” she replied primly. “But really, this is an emergency.”

Merlin ground his knuckles against his eyes in a vain attempt to wake himself up. “What is it,” he deadpanned. With Morgana, emergencies came in two flavours: death in the family or a broken nail. But if she was asking about his ‘superpower’ it must be closer to the latter.

“My brother. You need to date him.”

“Remind me who your brother is?”

“Hilarious. You’ve met him, remember? He came to graduation.”

Merlin grunted. He did remember Arthur, and not especially fondly. A great blond prat of a guy a year or three older than him and Morgana who barely glanced at him when they were introduced. Merlin had been extremely annoyed that Arthur was fit and that Merlin was wearing a stupid looking mortarboard that kept tipping off the side of his head. “What’s this about dating him?”

Morgana dove into the story wholeheartedly. “Well, Arthur’s all set to inherit the company from Dad when he retires—which isn’t soon or anything, but Dad plans ahead—and part of that planning ahead is that he wants Arthur married and settled sooner rather than later and he’s been pushing this simply vile girl at him lately and I think Arthur’s going to go through with it just to make Dad happy! He’s secretly a huge romantic, Arthur is, but he’s had his heart broken a few times and doesn’t believe in love anymore and it’s just too sad, Merlin. You’ve got to help him.”

“Ok, first question,” Merlin grumbled, rolling off the bed and shuffling into the kitchen since getting back to sleep seemed to be out of the question. “Does he even date men?”

“Between you and me, yes. He’s not very open about it—I don’t think Dad knows—but he has in the past.”

“Ok, next question,” he said, getting the kettle going and groping in the cupboard for a clean mug. There were none so he found one to rinse out. “Why would he be willing to try dating me if he’s basically agreeing to marry this girl your dad likes?”

“Don’t say it like that: Dad doesn’t like her either, but she’s the daughter of a business partner.” Merlin rolled his eyes. Rich people were ridiculous. “And because he’s a huge romantic, like I said. He’ll be an enormous pain in the arse, act like I forced him into it, but really he’s keen. He wants to find the right person. And you’re the best shot he’s got.”

Merlin sighed. He felt like an urban legend or a cryptid when his friends talked about him like this, but his track record was hard to ignore. Every time he dated anyone, they invariably found their fated partner or whatever and dumped him to go off and live happily ever after. It had really hurt the first couple of times, but after a while he started to care less. Though that hurt too, in a different sort of way. Merlin liked people. He liked being in love. And it sucked that his friends joked that he had a superpower when in reality he just wanted a relationship of his own to last. So maybe he sounded just a smidge bitter when he said, “Ok, last question: why should I date him?”

There was silence for a long moment. “I’ll owe you a huge favour? Honestly Merlin, I really can’t have Vivian as a sister-in-law. I will kill her. Do you want me put away on homicide?”

“Uughhh,” Merlin said, and Morgana heard the capitulation and squealed. “But!” Merlin interrupted in a fit of inspiration. “Along with the favour you owe me, you’re never allowed to tell the ramen story again.”

“What!” she cried.

“Promise, or I walk.”

The kettle beginning to whistle was the only sound for several seconds. He reached over and flicked it off.

“Fine,” she huffed, and Merlin smiled. He could put up with a few dates with Arthur The Prat Pendragon until he found The One if it meant Morgana never told that story again in their lives.

Chapter 2

2.

The cafe where Morgana had sent Merlin and Arthur for their ‘blind date’ was a little more upscale than Merlin tended to go for, but he figured he wasn’t buying so it didn’t matter. Either his temporary new boyfriend would do the gentlemanly thing on his own, or Merlin would claim Morgana had said Arthur would pay and that would be that. Ethical shmethical.

He hadn’t made much of an effort at his appearance, vaguely running his fingers through his hair after his shower and pulling on yesterday’s jeans and a t-shirt. This wasn’t a real date, nor a real relationship, so putting the time in seemed stupid.

Arthur was already there when he arrived, and Merlin really had to admire the Pendragon gene pool as he approached. Morgana was gorgeous, of course, all unapproachable ice queen until you got to know her and found out she was one of the most caring people on the planet. Arthur seemed to be the opposite. He was all warm tones, golden hair, bit of a lingering summer tan, still fit, a jawline to die for, Apollo aesthetic all the way, but his grumpy frown and slouchy posture screamed My Bad Attitude Is Your Problem. Wonderful.

Merlin went up to the table. “Arthur, yeah?”

Arthur looked up, startled. Merlin hadn’t noticed that his eyes were blue when they met at graduation—because Arthur hadn’t looked at him then—and it was bloody unfair how bright and pretty they were. “Ah,” he said, and his voice was low and smooth and attractive. “The Soulmate Fairy.” What was it straight girls said? All the hottest guys were taken or gay? Being gay wouldn’t knock a man off Merlin’s list, but being a huge prat would. And was currently doing so.

“People generally call me Merlin if they want me to pay attention to them,” he said archly, taking the seat opposite Arthur, draping his coat over the back.

Arthur crossed his arms. “So Soulmate Wizard would be more accurate?”

“I don’t have to do this,” Merlin reminded him sharply. “I agreed so that Morgana would owe me a favour, but there is a threshold and I will leave if you cross it.” He would hate to give Morgana license to tell the ramen story again, but even that wasn’t enough to persuade him to put up with too much of this nonsense.

Arthur pursed his lips. His unfairly full, appealing lips. “I agreed because of Morgana too.”

Merlin corralled his attention back where it was supposed to be. “I thought you agreed because you want to find true love?”

This time a scowl reshaped Arthur’s mouth and he gaze went off to the side. “Yeah, well, if that doesn’t work out I’ve still got a marriage and white picket fence to fall back on.”

“Vivian, yeah? I hear she’s a catch.”

“It would make my father happy,” Arthur said mechanically, like he was reciting by rote.

“Right…” Merlin said, unhappy to feel real concern creeping up. “But it’s your life. Surely you should have a say.”

Arthur’s gaze snapped up to him. “Of course I have a say,” he retorted, and Merlin realized he’d accidentally hit a sore spot. “And why do you care anyway? Hasn’t your longest relationship only been eight months? I bet you’d love an arranged marriage.”

Merlin’s body reacted before his brain even accepted that Arthur had really said that. He surged to his feet and yanked his coat off the back of the chair. “Threshold hit,” he snarled. He could hardly hear himself over the angry roaring of his pulse in his ears. “Have a lovely life making Daddy Pendragon happy.” He was halfway to the door, shoving his arms through his coat sleeves, when Arthur caught his wrist.

“Wait, I’m sorry!”

“Save it for when you’re miserable with Vivian.”

“I am sorry! Merlin, please, wait!”

Merlin came to a stop a few steps from the door and turned to glare at Arthur, who, to his credit, did look truly contrite. “Yes?” he said coldly.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur repeated. “I was out of line. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t even have thought that. It wasn’t fair. I’m… you’re right, about what I want, and I’m nervous—” This seemed to cost him dearly to admit, the little vindictive corner of Merlin’s heart was glad to see. “—and, and this is weird, right? I mean, on the one hand there’s my father shoving me at Vivian, and on the other there’s Morgana sending me to you, saying you’re like a matchmaker but more woowoo.”

“She said that?” Merlin asked, stung.

“Well, no, but to be honest I don’t really understand what you do, so…”

Merlin released a frustrated breath and turned around a little more. “I don’t do anything, it just—” His shift in stance made him aware that many of the patrons of the swanky coffee shop were looking at them with avid glee, and a hot blush rose up his neck. “Come on, let’s sit back down.”

This seemed to remind Arthur that he was still holding Merlin’s wrist, and he dropped it at once and they retreated to their table. Merlin kept his coat on though.

“You were saying?” Arthur said tentatively. There was still contrition on his face, but the underlying curiosity was stronger.

Merlin grimaced and rolled his eyes. “I was saying, I don’t do anything. It’s just something that seems to happen. Anyone I date inevitably meets someone they feel, you know, ‘this is The One’ about, and that’s that. Did Morgana call it a superpower to you?”

“Yeah. That’s sort of why I didn’t believe it,” Arthur said, sounding sheepish.

“Trust me, I wish it weren’t true,” Merlin said flatly. “You weren’t wrong about my longest relationship being eight months. Morgana has a big mouth, apparently.”

“Er, yeah, sorry again… She said that’s what happened with you and her?”

“Yeah… She was the second person it happened with. The first was when I was seventeen, this girl Freya. She left me for my best mate Will.” Arthur winced. “So yeah, that one hurt. But they’re happy. Got married last year, I was best man. Then Morgana first year of uni. And she and Leon are made for each other, obviously. Expecting an engagement any day.” A bit of a smile hitched up Arthur’s cheek, and it was unfairly cute. Someone so handsome shouldn’t be allowed to be cute as well. Bloody unfair.

“Who next?”

“Oh, are we doing my CV of failed relationships?” Merlin asked, raising a brow. “Checking that the Soulmate Wizard is legit?”

Arthur looked chagrined. “Sorry.”

“It’s becoming a theme.”

His mulish frown was also unfairly cute.

Merlin sighed. It was actually sort of nice to complain to a new person. If Arthur was getting a soulmate in the deal, didn’t Merlin deserve a little catharsis? “Next was Lance. He was the eight month one, but he met Gwen three months or so before we broke up. I knew what was happening before they did, because three’s a pattern, isn’t it? I could have broken up with him, but… I didn’t want to. I really liked Lance.” He traced a pattern in the tabletop for a moment, letting residual feelings pass. “But they’re brilliant together, and we all made friends after a bit, so no harm done.”

“Maybe a bit of harm though,” Arthur suggested carefully.

“Hn.” Merlin was absolutely not opening the floodgates for Arthur, not after what he’d said earlier, no matter how wide and earnest his stunning blue eyes were now, no matter how perfectly concern crumpled his brow. “Gwaine was next, but I almost expected it and when he met Percy, well… It honestly was alright. Then Elena was really just a friend but we both needed an outlet in our last year of school… until she found Mithian. And since graduation I haven’t dated anyone. Too busy. So.” He crossed his arms and leveled a look at Arthur, who seemed at a bit of a loss for what to say. “Here we are. There’s the Soulmate Wizard’s CV. Do I get the job?”

“Morgana didn’t say I’d pay you, did she?”

“No, that was a joke. Maybe I should start a service though,” he mused. “Could get a better flat.”

“You’d be like Will Smith in ‘Hitch’, just pasty and British.”

Merlin felt several emotions warring for dominance, and amusement won. “You really are a sap if you know that movie.”

Arthur’s face went red—also unfairly adorable—and he muttered something Merlin didn’t catch.

“Sorry?” he prompted, since it was clearly embarrassing.

“I said at least Will Smith finds love at the end of that movie,” Arthur said crossly. “Don’t you want that? You said you liked Lance.”

Merlin leaned back from the table, regretting that he’d asked. But he didn’t feel prepared to lie, somehow. “Of course I do,” he said in a low voice. “Getting dumped over and over when people I lo—like find someone they prefer? I’m sick of it. But I’m luckier than most, I suppose. I know it’s real, the sort of love people talk about wanting. Maybe someday it can be mine too. But for now… seeing my friends, my… loved ones happy, that’s good. And if the prat brother of my best friend gets on the list somehow, well.” The wry smile he tried to summon felt terribly uneven, and Arthur didn’t smile in return, despite the jibe. “That’s not so bad.”

There was such a strained silence that Merlin started to wish he hadn’t said anything, but then Arthur cleared his throat and said, “I, er, didn’t really understand what Morgana was trying to tell me when she offered to set me up with you. I mean, not ‘set up’, you know, properly, just that, well if we, that is—” Merlin put him out of his misery by waving his hand to show he understood, doing his best to repress a smile. A mumbling, stumbling Arthur Pendragon was the best one so far. Arthur huffed, looking red and embarrassed. “What I mean is, I didn’t even think of what this might be like for you. I feel like if we do this, it would be like taking advantage of you somehow.”

Merlin sat up straighter, the grudge he’d been nursing loosening somewhat. “I wouldn’t say taking advantage,” he demurred, “since we’d both understand what we were doing, if we do this. I mean, I could certainly see it being weird. Like, fake dating so you can find your true love?” Merlin shrugged. “It does sound like a romcom plot. Only then we’d probably end up falling for each other, and that’s not going to happen.” They both shook their heads and made ‘no, definitely not’ faces at each other. “And besides, even if you didn’t make a great first impression, I don’t mind helping you find happiness. Good karma or whatever. But no advantages being taken.”

Arthur sighed. “I am sorry I called you a Soulmate Fairy, alright?”

“What? No, I meant at graduation.” Arthur blinked at him. “Morgana’s and my graduation? From uni? Last year? She introduced us and you didn’t bother looking at me?”

Arthur’s mouth fell open. “I was recovering from food poisoning that day! I could barely stand upright! Didn’t she explain?”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “No, she didn’t!” Arthur had looked that good while recovering from food poisoning? Mind-bogglingly unfair. But at least he could let go of the impression of Arthur as utterly rude and aloof. Now he was just sarcastic when he was nervous, which, while not great, was much more forgivable.

Arthur muttered furiously as he pulled out his phone and typed something at lightning speed.

“Giving her a piece of your mind?”

“A large one,” he said grimly. His phone dinged with a reply almost at once, and Arthur snorted when he read it and turned it so Merlin could see. so you and merlin are getting on then! ;) xo Merlin snorted too and rolled his eyes.

“Of course she’s not sorry,” Merlin muttered.

“She’s never been sorry for anything,” Arthur agreed.

They shared a grimace at Morgana’s expense. But then Merlin remembered what they were supposed to be talking about. “What do you think then?” he said, trying not to sound nervous or awkward. “Gonna give the Soulmate Wizard a shot?”

The corner of Arthur’s lips went up. “Is that your nickname now?”

Merlin feigned a scowl. “Only if yours is The Pratty Pendragon.”

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. His throat was entirely, utterly, unfairly gorgeous. “I could never steal Morgana’s title,” he said when he stopped laughing. “But to answer your question: I’d like to, yeah, if the Soulmate Wizard himself is alright with it.” He was still smiling, his blue eyes dancing with mirth, lips stretched in a wide smile that showed where his teeth were a bit crooked on the side. Merlin realized dismally that even if he wanted to say no, he’d never be able to. How the hell had a single conversation, which had started with him almost storming out, changed his opinion so thoroughly? Hell.

“I reckon I can deal with it,” he sighed. He held his hand out towards Arthur, who blinked at him, then smiled and shook it. “Dating, then.”

“Dating,” Arthur agreed.

Chapter 3

3.

“Well?” Morgana demanded when Merlin obediently called her an hour later.

“Yes, I’m ‘dating’ your brother, Morgana, are you happy?” he said, earning an odd look from another pedestrian waiting at the zebra crossing.

Her squeal nearly pierced his eardrum. “You’re saving me from a fate worse than death, Merlin!”

“Killing Vivian would be worse than dying?”

“No, but if I go to prison I’d hardly ever get to see Leon again.”

“He’d get himself locked up right along with you, don’t worry.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

Morgana eventually came out of her romantic reverie of joint hard time to ask, “Well, what did you talk about? What are you doing for your first date? Come on, details!”

“Well, Morgana, since you ask, we talked about you quite a lot!” Merlin said brightly. “He told me a number of fascinating stories from your childhood, and I might have shared a choice few from our uni days!”

“…Merlin.”

“Yes, Morgana?”

“I need to know you didn’t tell him the library story.”

“I didn’t tell him the library story,” he said solemnly. He interrupted her sigh of relief though. “But I could. Boyfriends tell one another important things like that, you know.”

“Merlin.”

“I just want you to know that in case you ever forget our deal about the ramen story. I’m dating Arthur. You swore. And if you keep to it, the library story will never make it to Arthur, not from me.”

There was a very long silence. “I understand, you devious freak.”

“Excellent. Now, you asked about our first date. Since we’re not really looking for common interests or anything, we’re just going to work through one of those cheesy ‘Best First Date Ideas’ listicles and see if we happen to bump into his true love at the ice rink or something.” That earned him another very strange look from his fellow pedestrian, and all Merlin could do was shake his head. There was really no explaining this situation.

Notes:

For those keeping score at home, we now have two stories being held hostage by various promises. I wonder what could possibly happen by the end...? ;)

Chapter 4

4.

The following Saturday, Merlin was to meet Arthur at a large park in the north of the city, with nice walking paths and a big pond with swans and cattails and other such picturesque elements. The list they were working off swore A nice walk in the park is an excellent way to get to know one another by chatting as you stroll, or if all else fails, judging other parkgoers. Merlin didn’t care very much whether they got to know one another, but they did have to set some ground rules that they hadn’t gotten to at the cafe.

The bus got him there a few minutes late, so Arthur was already waiting, looking the epitome of ‘casual but put-together and yes, still unfairly handsome’ in a red polo and light blue jeans. He waved when he saw Merlin approaching and came forward, at which point there was a terribly awkward moment where they didn’t know how to greet each other: they were ostensibly dating—did that require a hug? A kiss? But they also hardly knew each other—yet a handshake didn’t feel right either. They hovered at the edges of one another’s personal space, tension and pressure to do something building with every passing second.

Merlin finally laughed a little, a choked sound that somehow only compounded the awkwardness. “This is actually one thing I wanted to talk about,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “How, you know, physical we want to be.” Arthur nodded, settling back on his heels so that the space between them relaxed. Merlin tried to parse his expression, and couldn’t. But this was still important to establish, so he forged ahead. “We’re not really together, so there’s not reason to be physical at all if we don’t want to be. But if we’re trying to make people think we’re dating, or make the universe think so, or make whatever gave me my soulmate superpowers think so, then maybe some degree of touching should happen? I don’t know, Morgana told me you’re not very open about dating men anyway so I’m definitely not trying to make you do more than you’re comfortable with, so whatever you think is good is what we can—”

“Woah, Merlin, woah, good lord, slow down. Breathe, maybe?”

Merlin took a breath, and realized he’d badly needed it. “Right. Sorry.”

“Been thinking about this, have you?” His smile was wry and warm.

“Haven’t you been?” Merlin asked defensively.

“Sure,” Arthur admitted easily. “But I didn’t have a monologue prepared.”

Merlin scowled. “What do you think then?”

“Well, the baseline: nothing either of us is uncomfortable with, obviously. Otherwise, I’m a fairly tactile person, even in platonic relationships, so I wouldn’t mind hugging or just casual stuff like that. Does that sound alright?”

“Seems fine, yeah,” Merlin agreed, mentally resigning himself to pretending to date Arthur Unfairly-Fit-And-Fairly-Tactile Pendragon. This would be just brilliant. Really bloody brilliant.

“Kissing and everything…” Arthur went on thoughtfully, “yeah, we’re not really together, so that might be weird.” Merlin nodded, purposefully not examining his feelings to see if they were more relieved or more disappointed. “And as for my dating men… you’re right, I’m not fully out about being bi.” He shrugged and scuffed his toe on the ground as though this were somehow shameful. “But I’m sick of that.” He looked up and met Merlin’s eye, face set and determined. “I thought dating women would be enough, but it’s like trying to only see out of one eye when they’re both open, you know? I think… And I know we’re not really together, but if you’re okay with like, holding hands or something in public, I want to… make myself realize that’s okay. Does that make sense?”

His expression was so sincere and hopeful that Merlin’s breath caught in his chest. “Of course,” he managed. “I’d be honored.”

Arthur’s mouth quirked up. “Honored, eh?”

Heat rushed into Merlin’s face. “What, would you rather I just tolerate it? I’m saying I’m glad to help you find self-acceptance, you prat. Hold my hand and shut up.” He thrust his hand at Arthur, who did that annoying thing again where he laughed long and loud and only looked better for it. But he did take Merlin’s hand, and followed as Merlin led them to the path that wound around the pond.

“Do you even like parks?” he eventually asked when the silence had gone on too long.

“Sorry, I’ve been ordered by my boyfriend to shut up.”

Merlin snorted. “That’s another thing: I suppose we’ll be introducing one another as our boyfriends for the next little while, right? Is that going to be a big deal for you?”

When Arthur didn’t answer, Merlin looked over and found Arthur pointing at his own closed mouth.

“Are you serious?” Merlin exclaimed, making Arthur laugh all over again. “What do you want me to do, say your name three times? Here then: Arthur Total Prat Pendragon. Arthur Very Annoying Pendragon. Arthur Worst Boyfriend Ever Pendragon.”

“You wound me, Merlin,” Arthur said, laying his free hand over his heart. “Of all of your boyfriends, I’m the only one who hasn’t left you for someone else.”

“But you will,” Merlin reminded him frostily. “That’s rather the whole point here, lest you’ve forgotten.”

“Hm,” was all Arthur had to say to that.

They walked a bit further in silence, watching the swans paddle aimlessly. “Go on then,” Merlin eventually said. “The world is your oyster now. Anyone could be your true love. That guy could be your true love.” He pointed out a middle-aged jogger across the pond, sheathed in sweaty day-glo spandex and knee braces.

“I’d prefer someone who has all his hair, please,” Arthur said haughtily.

Merlin couldn’t help but smile a bit. “How about her?” A woman sitting on a bench a little way up the path, reading a book.

“I can’t stand people who read mystery novels.”

Warming to the game, Merlin pointed another woman out. “Her?”

Arthur shuddered so hard Merlin felt it through their loosely clasped hands. “She looks like my last step-mother minus thirty years.”

“No love lost between the two of you, I take it?”

“Catrina convinced my father to disown me when I was a teenager.”

“She what?”

“For thirteen weeks, to be precise. It was just before uni, so I mainly stayed with friends for the summer, and Morgana helped me sneak into the house when I needed things. Dad came to his senses when Catrina was arrested for embezzlement.”

Merlin could feel his mouth hanging open.

Arthur shrugged. “My father’s history with marriage oscillates between tragic and absurd. I’d give you the rundown, but the tragic stuff isn’t good first date material.”

“We’re not properly dating though,” Merlin pointed out, curious in spite of himself. “Let’s say we’re speedrunning getting to know each other. I’ll do my parental sob story after, if you want.”

Arthur made a face as though saying ‘you asked for it’. “His first marriage was to my mother, Ygraine, who died when I was born.” Merlin caught his breath. Arthur grimaced. “I told you. Then he married my nanny and they had Morgana, but Vivienne ran off with Dad’s lawyer when I was five. Last I heard, they live in Portugal now.” Merlin had known that Morgana wasn’t in contact with her mother, but not exactly why. He felt a bit uncomfortable finding out this way, but it was too late now. “Helen was alright, they got married when I was nine, only she was really fixated on her singing career, and when she tried to divorce him it came out that she’d married him with a false name anyway. Catrina was after that, and since then he hasn’t tried again. Thank god, honestly. At the rate he was going, a serial killer would have been next.”

“Christ,” Merlin muttered.

“I did warn you.”

“Sure, but… wow.”

“Go on then,” Arthur urged, bumping his shoulder against Merlin’s. “Your turn.”

“It’s nothing nearly so dramatic,” Merlin said, privately grateful. “My dad died a few months before I was born. He was a test pilot and one of the planes, well, failed the test pretty badly. My mum never remarried. And good thing too, if your step-parents are indicative of the options.”

Arthur was silent for a long moment. “Our parents can’t ever meet.”

That was so out of the blue that Merlin had to blink at him several times before his brain caught up. “Why? You think they’d—? Oh, no, no way, my mum is never going to—” He faltered. “They say never say never….” A shiver rolled down his spine. “No, they can’t ever meet. I couldn’t handle having two exes become step-siblings.”

“It’s already weird enough to be dating my sister’s ex,” Arthur agreed. “The board doesn’t need to get more crowded.”

“Definitely not.” That seemed to settle the issue to their mutual satisfaction, and since neither of them seemed keen to get back to parental absurdities or tragedies, Merlin returned to the game that had set them on the tangent in the first place. He pointed out a guy throwing bread to the swans. “So what about him?”

“You think my true love is going to be a ginger? Merlin. I thought you liked me.”

Chapter 5

5.

When Morgana called him that afternoon, he answered by saying, “You know, I’m beginning to be offended by how much more you talk to me now that I’m dating Arthur.”

“What did you do to him?” Morgana demanded. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you were fine in bed and everything, but this seems a little extreme. And on the first date as well, Merlin!”

“Wait,” Merlin spluttered. “You have to give me a lot more context before disparaging my sexual prowess. What have I done exactly?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to, but whatever it was, it’s put Arthur in a bloody good mood.”

“We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re saying,” Merlin said, feeling that he’d stepped into a different dimension somehow. Morgana was prone to jumping to conclusions, but this was a bit much even for her. “In fact we decided we’re not going to do any of that stuff since we’re not dating for real. So if he’s in a good mood, it’s nothing to do with me.”

“I beg to differ, I’m afraid.”

“And why is that?” Merlin asked reluctantly. The last thing he wanted was to get sucked into gossip—worse, gossip about himself—but Morgana was inexorable. Better to ask and get it over with.

“What time did you say goodbye to each other?”

“Bit after three, I reckon?”

“He rang me at three-twenty ‘just to say hello’. Arthur doesn’t do that, Merlin. What the hell happened on that date?”

“Nothing special,” Merlin protested desperately. “We went to a park and walked around and talked. Set some fake-relationship ground rules, like I said. We got along, I suppose, but that’s really it.”

There was a long silence on the other end. “If this is what happens when you’re just ‘getting along’ in a fake relationship, I suppose I’m glad you’re not really dating,” she finally said, resignedly. “If Arthur’s mood gets any better, I’ll have to have him tranquilized.”

“You do realize he’s going to be happier than this when he actually falls in love, right?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. ….You really didn’t sleep with him?”

“No, Morgana!”

Notes:

"No, Morgana!" should be the show's catchphrase.

Chapter 6

Notes:

This chapter includes brief discussion of biphobia. I've done my best to represent the subject fairly and accurately, but please please please let me know if I messed anything up and I'll fix it.

6.

For their fourth date (after a movie date and a trip to an art museum, both of which had been fun), Arthur suggested dinner at a nice restaurant. “After all,” he’d said on the phone call when he’d proposed it. “If this were real, we would be at the wining-and-dining stage.”

“Yes, I can feel myself being swept off my feet as we speak,” Merlin had laughed, not at all thinking what it would be like for Arthur to seduce him for real.

“The proper term is ‘wooed’, Merlin, come on, keep up.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon, I didn’t realize you were a walking Austen novel.” He affected a screechy voice. “Girls! Mister Pendragon with his ten thousand a year has taken Netherfield! Girls!” Arthur laughed harder than the joke deserved and Merlin felt far prouder than he should have too.

They’d agreed to meet at Chef Gregoir’s at eight on Friday, and none of Merlin’s preparations were going right. His building’s water had been switched off for emergency maintenance, so he couldn’t shower, his favorite dress shirt had somehow lost a button right in the middle, and his hair was just not cooperating. He didn’t strictly need a shower, and his second-best shirt would do fine, but sadly there was only one person to go to with a hair emergency.

“Take at least two thirds of that shite out,” Gwaine commanded at once when Merlin video called him. Skipped any salutations and got right down to the heart of the matter, as usual. “Who taught you style, Elvis?” Grumbling, Merlin squeezed most of the product out of his hair, and followed Gwaine’s instructions for a further five minutes until his head looked halfway decent.

“So who is it?” Gwaine demanded just as Merlin was preparing to thank him and hang up.

Merlin grimaced and seriously considered lying. “Did you ever meet Morgana’s brother?”

“Hoo, Merlin! Keeping it local! Does Morgana know?”

“Yes she knows: it was her idea!”

Gwaine whooped in shocked delight. “And you’re doing your hair? You’re head over heels, mate. When’s the wedding?”

“We’re only dating so that my ‘superpower’ works on him,” Merlin snapped, annoyed. “So his wedding might actually be sometime soon.”

“Oh, that’s tough.” He sounded sincerely disappointed. But he rallied quickly: he always did. “But! No reason you can’t have your fun with him in the mean time! Just like when you and I—”

“Yes, Gawine, I remember! I was there for it every single time, thanks. Don’t you have a doting boyfriend to spend the night with?”

“Sounds like you do too.” Gwaine waggled his eyebrows. “I hope his dick is worth—” Merlin hung up. He did not need to be thinking about Arthur’s dick. He already thought too much about Arthur’s throat when he laughed and the warmth of Arthur’s hand in his own and the blue of his eyes, eyes like the sky on a clear, sunny day, and—

Merlin shook himself out of it. No, definitely better to keep dicks out of consideration.

Of course Arthur looked unfairly amazing, as usual. He was waiting for Merlin outside the restaurant, and his hair was appealingly tousled without looking like he’d had to fight it for twenty minutes to get that way, he’d worn a plain grey suit jacket over a white buttondown and dark jeans, and his smile when he saw Merlin was warm enough to melt iron. He held out his hand, and Merlin took it, as had become their way to greeting each other since the park date. Well, that and insults.

“I think our next date should be to a clockmaker,” Arthur suggested as they stepped inside. “Reservation under Pendragon,” he told the young hostess. “Then we could get you a watch and you might actually be on time for once.”

“Actually, our next date ought to be to the local transit authority where we stage a protest until the buses run on schedule,” Merlin replied pertly, firmly not looking at how Arthur brought their linked hands to the small of his back so that he wouldn’t have to let go of Merlin as they wove single-file between tables.

“Tis a poor craftsman who blames his tools, Merlin.”

“What does that make me? A craftsman of public transport?”

“Not of being on time, that’s for certain.”

“You have no redeeming qualities,” Merlin complained as they sat down. “I don’t know why I’m with you.”

“Yes you do,” Arthur scolded.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Okay, aside from that.”

“Your-waiter-will-be-with-you-shortly,” the hostess squeaked, and rushed away, her cheeks red.

Realizing how that had sounded, Merlin sighed, “Oh, great. Now the staff will all think we’re perverts.” Arthur just laughed.

They chatted about nothing important, just work and the random nuisances of the week, like Merlin’s water being out, until the waiter came and asked about drinks.

Arthur raised his brows at Merlin in a question.

“Are you not ‘wining-and-dining’ me?” Merlin reminded him dryly.

“A bottle of the house red,” Arthur told the waiter, who tipped a small bow and went away. Merlin couldn’t tell from the waiter’s bearing whether the hostess had been spreading rumors or not, but after that little exchange there could be no doubts. If his superpower relied on word of mouth to know that Merlin was dating, Arthur would have a soulmate by the end of the night.

“Can I ask you something?” Merlin said as the waiter departed a second time, leaving wine glasses and the bottle in one of those skinny silver ice buckets and taking their menus and entree orders.

“Sure,” Arthur said, sniffing his wine.

“Would you really marry Vivian just to please your dad?” Arthur looked at him, startled. “I don’t mean to pry,” Merlin hastened to add. “It’s just… the better I know you, the more miserable I think you’d be, if you did that. Married someone you didn’t love, I mean.”

Arthur looked away and Merlin worried he’d made him uncomfortable, but he seemed to just be gathering his thoughts because he slowly answered. “It wouldn’t just be for my father. It would be for the company, and to just sort of… have it out of the way.” He flipped his hand dismissively, but his brow was deeply furrowed.

“Have what out of the way?” Merlin asked. Then, incredulously, “Marriage?”

Arthur grimaced. “They’ve done studies that say people who marry young tend to have more successful careers.”

“Morgana says you’re going to take over the company when your dad retires,” Merlin protested. “How on earth is marrying young going to help with that?”

“I didn’t say it was a good plan, okay?” Arthur’s face was red and he wouldn’t meet Merlin’s eyes. “But it’s a plan. And obviously—” He gestured between them. “—I’m doing my best to avoid it.”

Merlin subsided. It was probably the daftest thing he’d ever heard, but Arthur seemed to know that, so harping on it wouldn’t help. “Do you… Is there like, a timeline? When people are expecting you to make a choice on this? On her?”

The uncomfortable look appeared again. “Dad’s been implying I should take her to the company Christmas party.”

“Oh, that’s alright then.” Christmas was nearly four months away still. “No one’s ever dated me for that long without finding their person.”

“Well then, cheers to getting a soulmate for Christmas.”

“Cheers.” Merlin did not point out that he was actually toasting being single for Christmas. Arthur hadn’t meant to imply that, and pointing it out would only make things awkward. And if there was one thing Merlin was good at, it was knowing what not to say to make people feel bad about his ongoingly depressing relationship status.

They sipped their wine companionably until their food arrived.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Arthur asked as he cut into his swordfish steak and Merlin considered the best plan of attack on his lamb chop.

“Uh, sure?” Merlin said. Fair was fair, he supposed, but what would Arthur want to ask him? His life was boring and there was no possibility of him marrying anyone Morgana would end up murdering.

“You are bisexual too, right?” He shook his head when Merlin blinked at him, loaded fork poised halfway to his mouth. “I’m sorry, that came out more abrupt than I meant. I just meant… you said you’ve dated men and women, but do you prefer one over the other? How did you know you were bi?”

Merlin had learned how little Arthur liked asking things that made him vulnerable, and his heart lifted in sympathy and gladness to be trusted with this. “Because there’s the whole ‘you’re not bi, you’re just not ready to admit you’re gay yet’ thing?” Arthur shrugged and nodded. “For me, it was mostly an intellectual exercise, attraction and all that. I don’t mean to shock you, but I was terribly awkward when I was young.” Arthur favoured him with a broad, lovely smile. Merlin’s heart stumbled for a couple beats. He sipped his wine and cleared his throat. “Unbelievable, I know. So, it didn’t matter in the practical sense whether I liked boys or girls because I wasn’t acting on it, but I got used to thinking about it. Then we were fortunate to have a very progressive health teacher, and when he described bisexuality, it was like, ‘Oh, that’s me,’ and that was sort of that.” Arthur nodded, looking pensive. “What about you?” Merlin asked, trying to convey in his tone that Arthur didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to.

“I did do the whole ‘I must be gay if I like men’ thing for a while,” Arthur said slowly. “But I kept liking girls too, which didn’t make sense. My type didn’t really change either, it just also included men now. I didn’t know being bi was a thing until uni, and when I found out it was more like ‘that’s allowed?’ than an immediate recognition of my own life. So there was an… adjustment period.”

Merlin nodded. Lance had had a similar experience, but he didn’t think offering the same assurances he’d given him would help Arthur. Plus, it seemed he’d gotten through the thick of it already. So he zeroed in on something else he’d said. “What’s your type then?”

Arthur’s gaze flicked up to him, startled. “What?”

“You said your type didn’t change. What is it?”

Merlin would have sworn that Arthur looked almost panicked for a second, but if it was even true, he covered it at once. “Blond,” he said.

“Ah yes, you are a narcissist, aren’t you?” he quipped, privately amazed at the damage his heart had just sustained. A blind man couldn’t have mistaken Merlin for blond.

“And what is yours, pray tell?” The question was nearly aggressive, though still entirely within the realm of flirtatious interrogation, and dear god, why were they flirting? This wasn’t a real relationship, they’d bloody well agreed they weren’t going to fall for each other, but if things kept going this way, Merlin was just going to have another broken heart to add to his tally, and Arthur would never even know.

“Beautiful people,” he said with a grin that somehow didn’t sit right on his face.

“Oh? I must be on the leader board.” The glint in Arthur’s eye was well past unfair and into indecently enticing. It made Merlin’s pulse race, but it also made him annoyed. Arthur knew they weren’t truly dating! He’d said he was fairly tactile in platonic relationships, not fairly flirtatious!

He pretended to think. “Yes, but after Morgana.”

“You take that back!”

“She’s beautiful and nice! You could never compare.”

Arthur huffed with pure affront. “If I weren’t nice, I wouldn’t say that my real type is just that they be clever, and funny. And kind. I couldn’t care less about hair colour.”

Merlin’s heart perked back up from its swooning sofa. But still, that had hurt. Even if Arthur hadn’t meant it to. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how well they got along or how much they flirted. So he asked, mostly to make himself internalize it, “That’s what you hope your person will be like?” Then he made the mistake of looking at him.

Arthur was looking right back, and that glint was still there. “Ideally, yeah.” Merlin looked back down at his plate.

It turned out that getting the whole bottle of wine had been a grave error. Arthur was driving so he only had one glass, leaving Merlin with most of the bottle to do with as he willed or let it go to waste, which would be a shame. Merlin wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but wine made him talkative. He found himself talking about his mum, and Will, and trouble he and Will got into with their mums, and from there it was an easy hop to talking about Freya, and he was halfway through an anecdote about Lance before he realized that talking about exes was not the done thing, even if one wasn’t truly dating the person one was at dinner with. He stuttered to a halt and ducked his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Poor manners, going on about all that.” He could imagine how red his cheeks were based on their warmth. He must look a sight.

“No, don’t apologise,” Arthur said, sounding, for all the world, like he meant it. “It’s nice, the way you talk about people. You really care about them. Even after they’ve hurt you.”

Merlin dared to glance up through his lashes, and found Arthur was looking at him with an expression that was alarmingly near to admiration.

“I never stayed friends with anyone after we broke up,” Arthur explained sheepishly. “I always thought, ‘Oh, they’ve hurt my feelings, they don’t love me, so on and so forth, that means I won’t ever speak to them again.’ It’s not especially… mature, I suppose.”

“Morgana told me that you’d, er, had your heart broken a few times,” Merlin said, not at all sure if it was wise to say that. But wine was wine, and the words were out. “No particulars,” he answered Arthur’s sharp look.

Arthur huffed, making his fringe riffle. Merlin found the motion transfixing. “Yeah, well, she’s not wrong. They were all…” He waved a hand as though dismissing something minor. “I was young. Infatuated, drowning in hormones. I kept thinking ‘Yes, this time!’ But I couldn’t tell what sort of people they were, really.”

“Not good ones?” Merlin hazarded.

“Not good ones,” Arthur confirmed, setting his jaw.

“Maybe it’s alright you didn’t keep in touch then?”

“Or maybe the larger concern is my ability to choose romantic partners,” Arthur said, surprisingly bitterly.

“Well,” said Merlin bracingly. “At least you know how to delegate to the experts.” He gave a little salute, and Arthur laughed, startled.

“Is that what you are, Merlin?”

“Not just anyone can earn the title of Soulmate Wizard.”

“You said you hated that nickname. It’s a title now?”

“Quiet, we’re not here for continuity. Now tell me about them. Tell me all about how awful they were. It’s cathartic.”

“My exes?” Arthur looked dubious.

“Yes. Not one single nice thing is allowed to be said. Ready? Go.”

Arthur stared at him a second, then chuckled and shook his head. “Well, if the expert says so…” And he spent the next while talking about how awful Sefa, Cedric, and Lamia had all been in their various ways, and Merlin had a grand time making up insults for them all until Arthur was snorting with laughter.

“And then once I was out with Cedric and right out of the blue he asked, ‘When your dad dies, how rich are we going to be?’ and I—yeah, I made that face!” Merlin’s mouth had fallen open in pure appalled shock. Arthur was laughing, though whether at him or at the memory Merlin can’t tell. But then he grew serious. “And I realized then that what I’d thought was devotion was actually just covetousness and greed. He was my last serious relationship, just out of uni.”

“Well, here’s to hoping he trips in front of an oncoming train,” Merlin said fiercely, clinking his wine glass to Arthur’s water glass. Arthur grinned lopsidedly and Merlin was caught like a deer in headlights, utterly at a loss for what to say, what to do, how to summon his wits back and prevent Arthur from somehow seeing how smitten he was becoming. He hated these people Arthur was telling him about, because how dare they hurt Arthur, who was brilliant and kind and intelligent and funny and a huge prat, yes, but it all evened out. How dare they hurt him when Merlin couldn’t even have him?

Arthur’s smile changed as Merlin looked at him, changed to something warm and affectionate and all of Merlin’s important inside bits melted to mush. God, he was done for. “You hair looks good like that, by the way,” Arthur said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you with product in it before.”

In a masterful stroke of restraint, Merlin did not confess that he’d needed Gwaine’s help to make it look at that way. But that single instance ran out his quota and he blurted, “Well, I thought I might as well look the part, of someone who looks like they’d be dating you, I mean.” Maybe this was a bit self-deprecating, but he’d had most of a really quite large bottle of wine by then and his tone-modulation abilities were scant.

And he could have kicked himself, because Arthur frowned in response. “I hope this isn’t only about appearances,” he said diffidently. “I do like you, Merlin,” (damn his heart for jumping, damn it) “and I consider you a friend by now,” (and damn it for sinking too) “and I don’t think we have to put a lot of effort into making this ‘look real’, you know? They say the best relationships are based on solid friendships, so let’s just… have that, yeah?” (damn, damn, damn, damn)

“...Sounds tolerable I reckon,” Merlin mumbled.

Arthur snorted. “And with that resounding approval, do you want dessert?”

They shared a slice of the most decadent cheesecake Merlin had ever experienced, Arthur paid the cheque like a gentleman, and they went outside into the breezy night.

“Well, goodnight,” Merlin said, and turned smartly around and started walking.

“Um, and where are you going?”

Merlin didn’t want to turn back around, because he couldn’t look at Arthur without thinking of how nice kissing him would be, and the wine was giving him much too much encouragement. But he did anyway and the wind was tossing Arthur’s hair and the moonlight was doing devastating things to his cheekbones and jawline and god what Merlin wouldn’t give to have this be real—

“The bus?” he remembered to say as the silent seconds started to pile up.

Arthur snorted. “I’m not letting you on the bus like that. You’d be arrested for public intoxication.”

“I’m not that drunk!” Merlin protested.

“Merlin, you tripped on your own feet as we were coming outside.”

“There was a wrinkle in the carpet,” he retorted sulkily. He had hoped Arthur hadn’t noticed that.

“Uh-huh. Come on.” He came up and put his hand on the small of Merlin’s back and there was not a single thing Merlin could do but follow the gentle pressure. “You’d end up falling asleep and overnighting at the depot like in Stranger Than Fiction.”

“Emma Thompson could step on me,” Merlin said without thinking.

“Good Lord, you’re not fit for public. What’s your address?”

Merlin told him, and Arthur typed it into his phone. “You’re still a sap for knowing all the romcoms,” Merlin said as Arthur helped him into the passenger seat. (He didn’t need the help, but he wanted Arthur to keep his hands on him for another moment.)

“Fine, fine,” Arthur said, reaching over him to do his seatbelt. “There. You’re safe.”

“I know,” Merlin said comfortably.

Chapter 7

Notes:

I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone leaving such lovely comments! They really brighten my day and I’m so glad so many of you are enjoying the story! ^^ I have the whole thing written now, so updates should be more or less daily from now on!

7.

Morgana called him late the following evening while he was watching Much Ado About Nothing in bed. Before he could even say hello, she practically shouted, “Merlin, what in God’s name are you doing to Arthur?”

“Uhh…” he said. “Am I being accused of something specific? Because all this was your idea, remember.” Honestly, it was already getting old, this habit Morgana was developing of launching into conversations like he know what she was talking about.

“He told our dad he’s dating a man.”

Merlin’s eyebrows jumped way up his forehead. “Oh.” He shut his laptop. This was more important than Emma Thompson.

“Yes, oh. You had a date last night, didn’t you? Did you encourage him to do this?”

“No!” Merlin yelped. “I mean, he’s okay, right? Your dad wasn’t awful?”

“No, he was surprisingly civil about it actually. Arthur’s fine, or he seemed fine when we said goodnight just now.” Another voice murmured in the background. “Yes, exactly, he seemed more at ease than he’s been in a long time.”

“Hello, Leon,” Merlin said. Morgana relayed his greeting, and he got one back the same way. “Well listen, of course that’s amazing, but I don’t see why you think I had anything to do with it. Arthur’s a grown man, able to tie his own shoes and everything.”

“He’s just seemed different since you two started seeing each other,” Morgana said, an accusing edge in her voice.

Merlin’s heart flopped over and he grimly murdered all the butterflies in his belly. “He’s hopeful, I reckon,” he said. “Of finding love and all that. Changed his perspective.”

“Hmm.” Morgana packed a whole year’s worth of scepticism into a second and a half of sound.

“Should I call him?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice level. “Or will he be cross that you told me?”

“If he is cross, it’ll be with me, not you.”

“Right. Okay, goodbye.” And he unceremoniously hung up and called Arthur to tell him how proud he was.

Chapter 8

8.

Three weeks later, Merlin caught a massive cold off someone at work and had to raincheck the date he and Arthur had planned to the aquarium. “I’m really sorry, but I feel like I’ve got a wet sandbag in place of my brain,” he said when he called to explain.

“So no different from usual then,” Arthur quipped.

“Okay, wow, regrets rescinded, I hate you actually,” Merlin retorted, then closed his eyes against the pounding in his sinuses.

Arthur chuckled. “I’m sorry you’re not well. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Uh…” Merlin mentally replayed the conversation. “Did I hallucinate canceling on you just now?”

“You canceled going to the aquarium,” Arthur replied smartly. “But I see no reason our date can’t still happen.”

“Umm, besides the fact that you will catch my miserable cold?” His body was in too much of a state for him to tell if his pounding heart was because of Arthur’s loyalty or just—oh, who was he kidding, it was totally because of Arthur. Stupid wonderful Arthur and his stupid wonderful loyalty. Stupid stupid stupid.

“I’ve got sick leave to take from work.”

“Arthur…”

“Would you really deny me the pleasure of your company?”

“I’ll be no sort of pleasure with my entire sinus cavity full of goo,” he muttered darkly.

Arthur snorted. “You’re always a pleasure, Merlin.” And even though the words were wry, they still made Merlin flush with happiness. “See you soon.”

“I could just not let you into the flat, you know. It would be for your own good.”

“You could,” Arthur agreed. “But you won’t.”

Much to Merlin’s annoyance, Arthur was right. Arthur rang the bell not even two hours after their conversation and Merlin buzzed him up right away and then went back to being a vegetable on the sofa. Arthur laughed when he walked in a minute later. “Here, you lump. I brought soup.” He set a takeaway bag down on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen and started rattling things. Merlin opened the bag. It was just chicken noodle, but it was from a place they’d gone a couple weeks ago that would have sent Arthur probably forty minutes out of his way to get. They’d been on a walk by the river and it started to rain and they’d run for the nearest place that was open and ordered soup to warm up. Merlin had gotten the tomato basil and Arthur got the chicken noodle but they traded bowls and liked each other’s better. Arthur had gone all the way out there just to bring Merlin soup he would like.

Merlin’s stupid heart melted all over the stupid place. Stupid kind Arthur and stupid delicious soup and stupid stupid Merlin for letting it get this bad when he knew how it was going to end because it always ended the same way and he should have said ‘no’ to Morgana even if she told every single person they knew the ramen story because Arthur was too good and it was going to hurt—

When Arthur returned with a glass of water and a spoon, Merlin was curled into a ball under the blanket, struggling to reign in his rampant affection and anticipatory despair. “Are you having some sort of fit?” Arthur asked curiously.

“I wish,” Merlin rasped.

“Well, it’s still early, you’ve got time for one later. Here, sit up and eat.”

Merlin obeyed, aware that his hair was a disaster and his nose was red and gross and he was still in the rumpled t-shirt and pyjama bottoms he’d slept in even though it was close to noon, but he didn’t care until he glanced up at Arthur and found his expression far too fond and warm. The fucking butterflies started having a rave in his midsection. He did his best to drown them all in soup.

Arthur ended up flopped next to him on the sofa after a while, letting Merlin use his thigh as a pillow as they watched Love Actually even though it wasn’t even close to December yet and played Fuck Marry Kill with all the various sets of characters. (“Marry Keira Knightly, obviously, fuck the guy she marries, and kill the best friend who likes her.” “Yeah. What a creep.” “Right?” and “Marry Emma Thompson, kill Alan Rickman—” “You did not just say that!” “He emotionally cheats on her!” “So what are you going to do, fuck the secretary like he was planning to?” “I… hm. Wait.” and “Marry Colin Firth—” “Of course.” “Of course.” “God, can you imagine the combined power of his Darcy and Keira’s Lizzie?” “People would have died.” “All the love in the world to Jennifer Ehle though.” “Yes, and what’s his name who was Keira’s Darcy.” “He was good.” “He was really good.” “Didn’t care for his hairstyle though.” and “That kid looks exactly the same as he does in Game of Thrones, only smaller.”) Arthur spent the whole time carding his fingers through Merlin’s hair, and Merlin thought he knew how dogs must feel when someone scratched their ears just the right way, because he felt like he was dissolving a little more with every slow stroke of Arthur’s hand. He’d give anything to stay like that forever, with a horrible cold and someone he loved comforting him.

It was right around when everyone’s plots in the film started to look up—Mr Darcy was taking language lessons, Jojen Reed was learning the drums, Edward Ferrars was knocking on doors—that Merlin completely lost it. They all got their happy endings. They all got their perfect person. In spite of all his valiant efforts, tears rolled sideways from his eyes and were absorbed into the denim of Arthur’s pant leg. He sniffed wetly. He tried to be discreet about wiping his eyes. He sniffed again.

“Merlin?” Arthur sounded surprised and concerned. “You have seen this before, haven’t you? Don’t you know how it ends?”

“I know how it ends,” Merlin said thickly.

“Then what—? Good God, sit up, here.” Arthur manhandled him upright—gently though, terribly, wonderfully gently—and peered at him worriedly. “What in the world happened? What’s the matter?”

And Merlin wanted to explain, more than anything he wanted to, but if Arthur found out how he felt then he’d just feel guilty when he eventually found his person and left Merlin behind. Which was the plan. Had been the plan all along. Only, Merlin was stupid enough to let it become real. To top it off, he was properly crying now, big heaving sobs with big gloopy tears, and it was all only because he was sick and stressed and overwrought, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. And Arthur looked alarmed rather than concerned now and was frantically asking if he’d done something wrong. And that was so stupid that Merlin managed to unclog his throat enough to say, “You brought me soup.” And then he let himself tip forward until his forehead rested in the crook of Arthur’s shoulder and he could cry without having to look at Arthur’s stupid, handsome, confused face.

He cried for quite some time, grieving Arthur before he was even gone, because he wasn’t really his at all. Merlin would be glad when Arthur found his true love because he wanted Arthur to be happy, but he’d also be devastated to be left behind. He’d never fallen this hard for someone before, not even Freya, not even Lance. God, he was stupid. God, it already hurt so badly.

Arthur held him close and let him get it all out, and gently shifted them around til Merlin could lean more comfortably on his chest, and Arthur could have both arms properly around him. He was clearly uncomfortable—he kept awkwardly petting Merlin’s hair or patting his back—but he still held on, and Merlin was unspeakably grateful.

He cried himself out, and then exhaustion rolled over him like a slow motion tidal wave, and he succumbed to sleep gladly.

The windows showed a late evening sky when he woke. He felt heavy, like his body was full of warm water, but still refreshed somehow. And he was curled up against Arthur, with his legs across his lap and his head on his shoulder. There was a large drool stain on Arthur’s shirt—at least Merlin hoped it was just drool. He jerked upright, wiping at his face in embarrassment.

“Morning,” Arthur said, voice rough and soft, and all of Merlin’s attraction came flooding back. “Or, evening, rather. Sleep well?”

“Mmf,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur still had his arms looped around Merlin’s waist and they felt like they belonged there. “Sorry about your shirt. That’s gross.”

“It’s just a shirt. Are you feeling better?”

Merlin managed a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.” Which was to say, he was still miserably disappointed in himself, and already mourning the deepest love he’d ever known, but he thought that he was across the crisis point. He would be able to restrain himself from now on. Even though bad things were still to come, he was through the worst of the feelings.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Arthur’s voice was more tentative than Merlin had ever heard it. “You were… really upset earlier. It wasn’t actually the soup, was it?” He sounded like he was trying to joke and falling well short of the mark.

“No,” Merlin chuckled obligingly. “But… no. I’m feeling better now. Sorry for, like, melting down on you.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Arthur said quickly. “I just… you can talk to me, you know? I would like if we could do that.”

In the end, “I know,” was all that Merlin could come up with without sounding like he intended to take Arthur up on the offer.

They sat in silence for a while as the windows outside darkened to full night. Eventually, Merlin stirred. As much as he liked sitting there, snug against Arthur’s side and feeling so unbelievably warm and protected, he knew he mustn’t let it go on. “Is there more soup?” he asked, injecting a bit more rasp into his voice than there actually was.

That kicked Arthur’s protective caretaker side into action, as Merlin knew it would, and they disentangled themselves. Arthur warmed soup on the stove, made him tea, snugged a blanket around his shoulders, and took his temperature even though Merlin had never had a fever in the first place. When he was satisfied that Merlin had eaten and had enough fluids, he tucked him in bed, leaving water and decongestants on the bed stand and dropping a light kiss on his forehead before he left.

That kiss undid every single bit of Merlin’s conviction that he could get over this by willpower. It took him a very long time to sleep, what with all the crying.

Notes:

:[

Chapter 9

9.

Morgana called a bit after 10 the next morning, just as Merlin was dragging himself out of bed. “I hear you died,” she said, sounding less amused than Merlin would have expected.

“Reports of my death have been slightly exaggerated,” he replied, and chugged the water Arthur had left on the bed stand. “What can I do for you this fine, congested morning?”

“Well, normally these days I’d be harassing you about something you’d done to Arthur, but today I think we’re flipping the script.”

Merlin blinked. “Arthur hasn’t done anything to me,” he said. ‘On purpose,’ he didn’t add. Arthur certainly hadn’t meant to make Merlin fall in love with him. He’d only been himself, which happened to be lovable. Wholly Merlin’s problem, not Arthur’s fault. “And doesn’t that mean you should be calling him?”

“I suppose it’s not a perfect mirror,” she admitted. “But Merlin, are you alright? Arthur told me you were pretty upset last night.” Merlin groaned, dragging a hand down over his face. “Oh, that’s promising,” Morgana said, and he could positively hear her raised eyebrows.

“No,” Merlin hastened to say. “No, honestly, last night—last night, I was just kind of overwhelmed, okay? I’ve been stressed about work, and I hate being sick, and that stupid film just tipped me over the edge, alright? Whatever Arthur said, I’m sure he was overstating.” Not bad for an off the cuff lie, when half his brain was made of snot and the rest was still asleep. He shuffled out of his room, wondering vaguely if there was anything edible in the fridge.

“Oh? Well let me show you, and you’ll see how overstated you think he was being. Put me on speaker so I can send you screengrabs.”

Stomach plunging, Merlin obeyed. The screengrabs were of a message thread between Morgana and Arthur, timestamped to the day before around when Merlin would have been asleep and drooling all over Arthur’s shirt. True to character, Morgana had named Arthur ‘The Idiot’ in her phone.

The Idiot: I think I fucked up
Me: specifics please, brother dear
The Idiot: Merlin
Me: oh god, what did you do to him
The Idiot: Didnt mean to hit send yet
The Idiot: Hes really upset. Well hes asleep now, but he
was crying just before this
Me: I repeat, what did you do to him
The Idiot: I dont know?? We were watching Love
Actually and he just started crying?? It wasnt even the
sad part anymore
Me: you’re watching love actually? what year is it?
The Idiot: Shut up
The Idiot: I asked if I did something and he said it
was that I brought soup?
Me: why the hell did you bring soup
The Idiot: He has a cold
Me: ah
The Idiot: But why would soup make him cry?
Me: that’s really all he said?
The Idiot: Yeah! He said that and cried more and fell
asleep on me
Me: 1 that’s fucking adorable and 2 that’s very weird
The Idiot: Ok I thought so too!
Me: you’re really sure you didn’t say or do anything
else?
The Idiot: I dont think?? We argued about who to
fuck/marry/kill in the movie but that was an hour
ago. And he liked that kind of soup when we had it before,
thats why I got it
The Idiot: I just want to fix it if I did something wrong
Me: unless you said something really terrible in fmk
I doubt that’s it. but it would also be weird if soup
made him that upset. idk. ask him when he wakes up?
The Idiot: I had sussed that for myself, yeah. Thanks
for nothing
Me: text me later if you want an intervention xo

Arthur sent a thumbs up and that was it. Merlin read it all, repressing his irritation at being called ‘adorable’ and the weirdness that came of seeing himself spoken about in the third person, as an object almost. He couldn’t quite repress the pang in his heart that came from reading Arthur’s earnest desire to make up whatever wrong he’d done, not knowing that there was no wrong in the first place. And he had asked Merlin what the matter was once he’d woken up. And Merlin had shut him down.

“Well?” Morgana asked in a tone that could almost be called patient. “Was he overstating the case?”

Merlin pulled himself together. Morgana was his best friend, and they told each other everything, they always had (after a few months of touchiness about Leon, but that was years back now), but he couldn’t tell her the truth about this. For one, she’d feel bad for putting him in this position—or at least that’s how she would frame it, never mind that Merlin agreed with his eyes wide open to the possibilities—and for two, he didn’t want her pity. It had been bad enough after Lance, who was the next person to dump Merlin after Morgana. She had tiptoed around him for weeks, making him feel like he had some terminal illness rather than just a terminally (he had thought) broken heart. And she hadn’t set him up with Lance, hadn’t asked him to use his ‘superpower’ as a favour, hadn’t inadvertently caused that broken heart.

“Not so far as the facts are concerned,” he admitted, mentally scrambling. “I did just start crying randomly in the middle of the movie, and I think I did say something about soup.” He gritted his teeth, which made his head pound. Of all the stupid things he could have said, why had he chosen the soup? “But he’s reading too far into the rest of it. Like I said, I was just overwhelmed and it all hit me at once. I don’t need an intervention. Or he doesn’t need one. I can’t really tell what you’re offering to do there. I’m alright, promise.”

There was a very loud silence from her end of the line. Merlin tried to keep his breathing steady, and probably failed. “Alright,” she finally said, sounding not at all settled on the matter. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Well then,” she said sweetly. “Case closed.”

“Yes.”

“How long have you two been together now, by the way?”

“Erm…” Merlin took a second to follow the sudden left turn. “A couple months?”

“And he hasn’t met any likely candidates?”

Merlin quelled the ferocious tide of anger and pain that rose up inside him. “Not that he’s mentioned.” If there was a catch to his voice, it was only because he still had a cold.

She hesitated uncharacteristically before her next question. “And you don’t think things might just… keep going? As they are?”

That struck far to close to Merlin’s hopeless dreams. “That’s not how this goes, Morgana,” he said tersely. “That’s the whole reason you asked me to do this, remember?”

“I know, but Merlin, isn’t it possible that you’re someone’s true love?”

His temper flared dangerously, and this time he couldn’t quite curb it in time. “No, Morgana, never once in my life has it ever occurred to me to think of that, wow! Thanks so much! I’m sure that now I have, I’ll trip over my soulmate in the street next time I go out. No, you know, I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m invoking the favor you owe me: leave this alone.”

“Merlin—”

“I know you think you’re helping.” The words came out harsh even though he was trying to reign himself in. “But I don’t want this kind of help. I’m sorry if Arthur worried you last night, but I’m fine. Now, is there anything else? I haven’t eaten yet.”

A stiff silence ensued. “No,” Morgana said. “Nothing else.”

“Good.” Since he was already feeling guilty for snapping, he muttered, “Talk to you later,” before he hung up.

Properly miserable now, Merlin turned around and got back into bed. He slept for four hours, and when he woke up it was to see Arthur had texted him. Sure he was about to get chewed out for upsetting Morgana, he opened it reluctantly.

IVE ONLY HAD THIS COLD FOR 12 HOURS AND I HATE IT, Arthur yelled textually. YOU DID NOT TELL ME IT WAS THIS BAD.

Merlin smiled, more relieved than he should be. i tried! he wrote back. you came over anyway

Moments later, Arthur replied, Yeah yeah be logical then. Are you feeling better?

a bit

Thats good

They chatted back and forth some more before Merlin’s stomach reminded him that’d he hadn’t eaten when he was awake earlier, so he got up to do that. But being in the kitchen reminded him of arguing with Morgana, and guilt smote him anew. Grimacing, he pulled his phone out again and texted her, sorry for what i said earlier. i was still kind of in a weird headspace, but i didnt mean to snap at you. youre a good friend and i know you just wanted to help

He’d finished microwaving a plate of leftovers before she replied, and trepidation clutched his throat as he made himself open it.

it’s ok, she said, and Merlin sighed in relief. i’m sorry i overstepped

you didnt. i am ok though

thats all I care about. but you know you can tell me anything, yeah? even about arthur. if youre not happy with him you definitely shouldnt stay with him just because I asked you to help him

of course, i know, he typed hastily. thats not what’s happening at all

ok, just had to be sure Merlin smiled. Morgana always meant well, and he hated arguing with her. A moment later she texted again: want to get coffee tomorrow?

i doubt ill be over this cold. just ask Arthur, you dont want to catch it

OOOO is the poor wee mite miserable?? talk later, must mock him mercilessly xoxo

Merlin grinned and wolfed down his lunch. He still had an awful cold and he was still a stupid heartbroken wretch, but he had a great best friend. Based on that alone, he knew he’d be alright eventually.

Chapter 10

10.

A bit more than a month after the Worst Cold Of All Time, Merlin and Arthur were out in town, getting a late lunch and discussing a museum exhibit they’d just seen. It had to do with the history of aviation and was more up Arthur’s alley, but Merlin had still found it interesting and was enjoying listening to Arthur explain some details that hadn’t been included in the displays.

The past month had been good. Recovery from the cold gave Merlin some bloody self-possession back and he’d kept his poor stupid heart on a short leash. He still felt a lot more for Arthur than he should, but ironically by focusing on Arthur and his quest for true love, he saved himself from wallowing. Too much, at least. He always insisted they go out on dates, rather than stay in with takeout and a film as Arthur had taken to suggesting. He prompted Arthur to talk about his friends and people at work, to keep up to date on whether he had met anyone new. One thing he couldn’t quite bring himself to do anymore was talk explicitly about the ultimate goal of their relationship, but there was no way Arthur had forgotten. So Merlin had determined to just ride it out until the inevitable happened, and then leave. He wouldn’t let Arthur say the words. He couldn’t hear them, not this time. He’d break for real.

“...which is why that kind of riveting technique is so important, because at such low altitudes drag really matters, and—” Arthur burbled happily, only to be interrupted by a call from near the restaurant's entrance.

“Merlin!”

They both turned, and Merlin found himself looking at a grinning Lance and a smiling Gwen, as well as the rather cross hostess.

“Lance,” he said blankly, brain struggling to switch gears and react properly. But then he got there. “Gwen! Lance! Hi!” He waved them over, the hostess reluctantly trailing them. “It’s been forever! How have you been? Oh, introductions, god, right. Uh, this is my boyfriend, Arthur. Arthur, my friends Lance and Gwen.” Arthur, of course, knew more about Lance than that introduction implied, but the manners of the moment required the polite elision.

“Arthur Pendragon,” Arthur said, shaking hands with both of them.

“Oh, do you know Morgana?” Lance asked, smiling curiously.

“My sister, and please let me offer my sympathies if you’re at all acquainted with her.”

Lance laughed, and Gwen, who Merlin had never known to speak ill of her wayward brother, looked rather scandalised.

“Would you like to join us?” Merlin said without thinking. Then, realizing how bad of an idea that was, hastened to say, “Or, sorry, you’ve surely got plans of your own, I shouldn’t have—”

“Our only plans were to have lunch, and sharing that with such lovely people could only enhance the experience,” Lance declared with such sincerity that Merlin could only smile and give up. Lance helped the hostess drag another table over and set it up next to Arthur and Merlin’s, and Lance held the seat next to Arthur out for Gwen, and then sat by Merlin. Even though he was avoiding looking, Merlin knew Arthur was watching him carefully.

“So how’ve you been?” Merlin asked, determined to keep the conversation away from himself and Arthur. “Got any plans for the holidays?” The holidays which were approaching much faster than Merlin liked to think about. Arthur hadn’t mentioned if his father was still pushing Vivian at him since he knew Arthur was seeing someone, and Merlin didn’t ask anymore.

“We’ll be with Dad on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, then down to Lance’s family for the evening and Boxing Day,” Gwen explained. “Elyan’s in… Denmark, I think? We’re not sure if he’ll make it home.” She did an admirable stiff-upper-lip look, telegraphing her disapproval by just how well she hid it. Merlin grimaced sympathetically. But she shook it off and offered her usual bright smile. “How about you? Home with your mum as usual, or are you two doing something? How long have you been dating anyway?”

Merlin bit his tongue sharply to distract himself from the lurch of pain and dread in his stomach.

Thankfully, Arthur picked up the question, since Gwen had politely directed it at both of them. “It’s been almost five months now. As for the holidays, I’d never subject anyone I actually like to my company’s Christmas party.”

“So I’ll be going then,” Merlin joked, because he was an idiot and apparently had a death wish.

Arthur grinned and kicked his ankle lightly. Then he left his foot against Merlin’s. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said fondly. “We’ll do whatever you like.”

Merlin swallowed. “Normally I do go home, yeah, but I wouldn’t subject anyone I actually like to my mum’s Christmas pudding. I love her dearly, but the woman’s not a baker.” Arthur did his unfairly-gorgeous-laughing thing, and Merlin decided he had to change the subject. “Gwen, how’s your program?” For Arthur’s benefit, he explained, “Gwen’s getting her PhD in Political Science. She’s absolutely brilliant: definitely going to be Prime Minister one day.”

Gwen blushed and demurred, but at Merlin’s encouraging Lance got on the Praise Gwen Train too, and conversation went on happily from there. Arthur seemed somewhat hesitant on Lance (Merlin couldn’t help but assume it was because he knew Lance had once broken Merlin’s heart, but didn’t follow that thought anywhere), but he took to Gwen immediately and they fell into conversation about local politics without missing a beat after the waitress took Lance and Gwen’s orders. Merlin and Lance chimed in too, but Merlin didn’t have much to add, and Lance soon dropped out as well. Merlin asked Lance about work, the ultimate safe question, and got the latest on the nonprofit where he was a fundraising coordinator. But before Merlin could find another safe topic, Lance leaned a bit closer and murmured, “And how does Morgana feel about you poaching her brother?”

“Er, it was her idea, believe it or not,” Merlin said. He hated the idea of lying to Lance, even just by omission, but he couldn’t stand the look he knew he would get if he told the truth. Somehow he didn’t think Lance would approve of his ‘superpower’ being put to this sort of use. Plus, he knew Merlin well enough that he’d see straight through any attempt at nonchalance. “She thought we’d be… you know, good for each other.”

“Seems like she knew what she was about. You two obviously get along.”

“Mm.” Merlin took a gulp of his drink to avoid answering.

“I’m really happy for you, Merlin,” Lance said, more quietly still. “He looks at you the way it feels like I look at Gwen. You deserve that.”

Merlin gasped at the pain those words elicited in his heart, but he hadn’t quite got his drink all the way down, and choked quite disastrously.

“Merlin?” Arthur sounded alarmed, and Merlin dimly heard him scramble out of his chair and around the table to kneel at Merlin’s side. “Here, lean forward, let gravity help, come on.” Arthur’s hand on his shoulder was warm and reassuring as it pulled him down. He rubbed Merlin’s back until the coughing subsided and he could breathe more or less unimpeded, and then switched seamlessly to ribbing him. “Honestly, Merlin, we trust babies to drink and they get along just fine, but you?” He shook his head, but his smile didn't quite cover the worried knit that was fading from his brow.

Merlin stuck his tongue out at him, and made twice as much effort to be engaged in the conversation from there on out, making sure it didn’t have a chance to turn into two distinct pieces again. His heart still throbbed dully at Lance’s assertion, and he wished he could correct the misunderstanding his friend was labouring under. Because there was no way he was right. Arthur wasn’t that stupid. He was a fair moron sometimes, but Merlin was the idiot who’d lost sight of what their whole arrangement was about. Arthur was with him to find love, not fall in it.

The rest of lunch went well: no one else choked on anything, Gwen and Arthur exchanged contact details, and goodbyes were cheery. Arthur took Merlin’s hand as they walked down the street together, and Merlin laced their fingers because he couldn’t help himself. The air was cold, and their breaths made puffs of steam. When it first got cold enough to do that, Arthur had told Merlin of how he and Morgana used to pretend to be dragons, and had huge rows over who got to be Smaug. Merlin was saving that tidbit for when he needed something really good against Morgana. But in the here-and-now, Arthur said, “I’m glad I got to meet them. They seem like good people.”

“They are,” Merlin agreed. “Genuinely, they’re probably the best people I know.”

“Oi?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Present company included, you prat. I don’t see you fundraising for a nonprofit that rehabilitates former prison inmates and rescues dogs at the same time.”

Arthur was silent for a moment. “I can see why you fell for Lance,” he said, quite seriously. Merlin looked at him, startled. Where was this coming from? “Even after barely two hours, I can tell that he’s an honest, sincere person. But… is there a way to say ‘holier-than-thou’ without sounding nasty?” Merlin let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “I don’t mean he thinks he’s better than anyone,” Arthur explained hastily. “But if he’s like that all the time? Just permanently kind and thoughtful and putting others before himself and all that? Sounds bloody exhausting in a partner. I’d want someone who didn’t seem like they’d become their best self already, you know? I’d want someone I could grow with, and who I could help grow. I think you’re better off without him.”

Merlin stared at him. Maybe he stared a little too long, because Arthur’s face started to go pink (moreso than the cold had already made it) and he blurted something about Christmas shopping for his dad and Morgana and Leon and dragged Merlin into a bookshop they were passing. Merlin was happy to let him change the topic, and he liked finding silly gift ideas for Morgana, but the last thing Arthur said stuck in his mind and circled round and round no matter what else he was doing. Until Arthur, Lance was the best thing Merlin had ever had. He’d really loved him at the time, and had felt his loss as an unmitigated negative. Arthur’s perspective was new, and uncomfortable in its boldness. He didn’t know what to think about it.

So he just followed Arthur around the bookshop, laughing at his suggestions, like getting Leon a book called The Care And Keeping of Incredible Hair just to make Morgana mad. He decided to let himself enjoy it while it lasted.

Chapter 11

11.

Three weeks later, they were out ice skating at an open-air rink that had been set up at the park where they’d had their very first date. Merlin was not a very good ice skater, and of course Arthur was excellent, so Merlin had taken great pleasure in causing Arthur to topple over with him several times already. Arthur had solved the problem by linking their arms firmly together so that he could keep Merlin’s balance for him, and they’d managed a couple wobbly laps and even started making conversation at the same time.

“Is that thing your dad’s having you do at work still a nightmare?” Merlin asked when they eventually ran out of jokes to make about the film they’d been to see a couple of days ago. Saturday was ‘designated date day’, more by accident that design, but they met up during the week sometimes as well, in this case to see a weird art film on Thursday evening because Merlin got the tickets through work. It had been very weird and artsy.

Arthur sighed gustily, and Merlin would have regretted bringing it up if he couldn’t tell that Arthur needed to vent. “God, I can’t even tell you. He says it’s good practice for when I’m CEO, but the sheer politics involved in acquisitions like this are just unreal. Tir-Mor Corps isn’t large, but it is old, and the founder still runs it and is very proud. So I can’t talk about it as an ‘acquisition’, I have to say ‘merger’ or ‘cooperative venture’ or whatever. All this is still embargoed by the way, so I’m not telling you anything.” Merlin mimed zipping his lips, more pleased than he would ever admit to be trusted like this. “Plus, Mr Aulfric himself has had some health issues lately so he’s letting his daughter Sophia handle things, and she might be even younger than you, like barely out of school I reckon, so it’s just been very weird because of that too. Plus, she’s…. Well, I mean, she’s smart, don’t get me wrong, she knows what she’s doing, but it still makes it more time-consuming because he’s the one to officially decide everything so she and I have to meet twice as often so she can tell me what he thinks and we can renegotiate based on that…” Arthur continued to complain, but Merlin couldn’t listen anymore because he was dealing with the bottom falling out of the world.

It had finally happened.

He’d spent so long dreading this moment, yet he still felt utterly unprepared.

Sophia. Arthur’s person.

Arthur clearly didn’t know it was her yet, but none of Merlin’s other exes had when they first met their people either.

Was it possible to hate someone he didn’t know? Was ‘young and smart’ enough to base hatred on? He decided it was.

But he’d already decided what he was going to do. He knew he couldn’t bear to watch Arthur fall in love with this girl and gleefully declare the Soulmate Wizard a success. He and Sophia would ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after, being as perfectly matched as Lance and Gwen, as Morgana and Leon, as everyone else Merlin had ever ‘helped’. It would feel like dying.

“Merlin?”

He swam back to reality, blinking at Arthur’s bemused expression. They’d stopped skating and were just standing on the ice, letting others glide past them. “Yeah?”

“Alright? You had quite the spaced out look there. I didn’t mean to bore you with work talk.”

“You didn’t,” Merlin reassured him. “Sorry. I’m just… not feeling great for some reason.”

Concern creased Arthur’s face, and Merlin’s heart broke into even smaller bits. He just hoped that Sophia bitch knew how lucky she was. “Are you okay? You didn’t hit your head before, did you? That one fall was pretty bad.”

Merlin managed half a smile. “No, no. I think I’ve just been getting chilly out here.”

“I keep telling you you need a better winter coat,” Arthur scolded, turning them about and carefully guiding them to the edge of the rink, where Merlin was able to edge his own way to the gap, and out. “I’ll get you one for Christmas, how about that? But for now, I think they’re selling tea at the kiosk there, do you want some?”

“No, thanks though. I’ll be alright.” There was possibly no bigger lie he could have told in that moment, but there was no reason for Arthur to know that.

They retrieved their shoes and returned their skates at the little rental shed, and Merlin laced his feet into his frigid boots, using the time to gird his heart. It was foolish, of course: no amount of preparation would ever be enough. But he needed some kind of buffer before he took a sledgehammer to his own soul.

They started walking towards the gate of the park, Arthur saying something about getting some hot food into Merlin, and he’d slung his arm around Merlin’s back and was rubbing his hand vigorously up and down his bicep as though he thought he were about to catch hypothermia. It was all too tender and lovely for Merlin to bear.

“Arthur,” he said, stopping in the middle of the path. Arthur, caught momentarily off-balance by how his arm had stopped moving before the rest of him, looked at him curiously. His cheeks were pink and tufts of his hair stuck out unevenly from under his hat. His smile was mild and warm. Merlin bit the inside of his cheek savagely hard to keep the tears back. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

One second of confusion, followed by shock. “What?” Arthur said. He sounded breathless, like he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. His eyes—those unfairly gorgeous blue eyes that Merlin still wanted to drown in—were wide and stunned. His hand tightened on Merlin’s arm. “Why?”

“I—” How was it possible for his voice to waver so much on just one syllable? He had to look down to get the words out. “I think you’ll figure it out pretty soon.”

“I’ll—what? Merlin, what in the world does that mean? Did I do something? Just tell me and I’ll make it up, I swear, just tell me—” He turned about so they were facing each other and took hold of both of Merlin’s shoulders, and Merlin nearly broke at the pleading in his voice. He didn’t know that Merlin had already served his purpose in Arthur’s life. He thought he was losing his shot at true love. Of course he was frantic.

“I just can’t do it,” Merlin whispered, and stepped out of Arthur’s grasp. “I’m sorry.” He turned and walked quickly across the frosty grass to the other gate at the far side of the park, where he could catch his bus and go home and bury himself in blankets and never ever ever come out. Maybe if he was lucky he’d knock his head on something like Arthur was always teasing him about and go into a coma for ten years. That sounded okay. That sounded great, in fact.

The bus was nearly empty, and the gentle rocking eased enough of the tension out of him that silent tears started to slide down his cheeks. A little old lady in the seat across from his reached over and patted his knee. “Take it from one who knows, duckie,” she creaked benignly. “If she makes you feel this bad, she’s not worth it.”

“He really is though,” Merlin choked, and then there was no stopping the sobs.

He was still crying when he got home and fell face-first onto the sofa without even taking his coat and boots off.

Notes:

*sits back in a big leather armchair like a Hunger Gamesian gamemaker* May the angst commence.

Chapter 12

Notes:

Watching the first minute and a half of this video will save some confusion if you’ve never watched Blackadder: A Bout Of Insanity

12.

He was still crying half an hour later when Morgana called him. He ignored it, but she didn’t leave a message, just called again. And again. And again. And nine more times. The very small part of him that wasn’t busy falling apart made a mental note to change her ringtone to “resistance is futile”. Because it really was futile: the last thing he wanted to do was answer, yet he did.

“What,” he croaked.

“What?” Morgana repeated incredulously. “Really? What? That’s what you’re going with? Alright! Alright, I’ll give you three guesses, Merlin, to figure out why I might have happened to call you at this moment in time. First guess?”

“Arthur told you.”

“Bravo! A brilliant deduction! How have you not won a World Genius Award yet? Yes Arthur told me! As a matter of fact, he showed up on my doorstep in literal tears, Merlin, blubbering about you catching pneumonia and he was sorry his work stories are boring and he wanted to make it up if you’d only tell him why you unceremoniously dumped him—” An ugly, gulping sob tore free of Merlin’s throat and Morgana fell silent for a moment. Then she burst out, “Are you crying too? Merlin, what the fuck is going on!?”

“Nothing,” Merlin tried to snap, but it came out very thick and soggy.

“You two need to sort this out,” Morgana said decisively, and by the change in the quality of her voice, she’d put the phone on speaker. “Merlin, explain to my brother why you’ve made both him and yourself, from the sounds of things, so terribly miserable.”

From slightly further away, Arthur’s voice intruded, and Merlin curled in on himself to try and ease the pain that caused. “...don’t need you interfering in this, Morgana!”

“Then why did you come here?” Morgana retorted. “Besides, when my best friend is acting such a fool that it sends you over into tears, I’m morally obligated to stage an intervention.”

“I called in the favour,” Merlin protested, a bit more strongly. “You’re supposed to leave me alone about this.”

“Too bad,” she said. “Tell me why you’ve done this monumentally stupid thing, especially since it clearly hasn’t made you happy either.”

“It’s none of your business,” he muttered. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Wrong answer,” she said brightly. “Arthur, when Merlin and I had just started dating—”

“I really don’t want to hear about that!” Arthur exclaimed.

“Trust me, you do. We’d barely been together a week, and—”

Merlin jolted upright on the sofa. “No! Morgana, no!” He had just realized what she was talking about, what story she was telling. “You swore!”

She forged ahead, undeterred. “—we were having a nice little date night in his room, just a show on the laptop and microwave Cup Noodles so we didn’t have to go to the dining hall—”

“Morgana!” he cried desperately. “You fucking sadist, you’re just adding insult to injury!”

“If this is a Netflix-and-chill story, I really don’t want to hear it,” Arthur reiterated, but he sounded marginally calmer, and nearer the phone.

“Ew, never,” Morgana scoffed. “We were watching Blackadder, and our favorite idiot here laughs so hard at something that ramen noodles come shooting halfway out of his nose—”

“I’m going to hang up!” Merlin threatened hopelessly.

“—and instead of pulling them out like a normal human, he does an impression of Blackadder pretending to be mad, until things went in a more Baldrick-ish direction when he tripped on the chair and got his head stuck in the wastebasket, so if you want to know why he blushes if you say—”

“Fine!” Merlin shouted furiously. “Fine! I couldn’t watch it happen, okay? I couldn’t watch him realize he’d found his person and go ‘Ta Merlin, have a nice life’ and fucking leave me.” There was a choked sort of sound from the phone, but he talked over it. “Besides, mission accomplished, so who cares! Who cares if I’m upset about it? And even if he’s upset right now, he’ll forget all about it once he gets to know her better and figures it out. Everything will be fine. I’ll just… be alone. I get what the universe is trying to tell me: I can help people find love, but I can’t have it. So you don’t need to tell any more humiliating stories, thanks, because there’s nothing else to be said.”

There was a long moment of stunned silence.

But then, “When I get to know who better?” Arthur asked desperately. “What in the world do you mean, ‘mission accomplished’? Did we land on the bloody Moon?”

“Sophia!” Merlin yelled. “It fits the pattern! You’ll get to know her through these work meetings and it’ll go from ‘oh she’s smart and young’ to ‘oh, she’s pretty cool’ to ‘oh, I love her to bits and want to get married tomorrow’. And I don’t want to watch that happen, okay? Sue me.”

There were a series of several little sounds, like someone opening and closing their mouth, but which Pendragon was responsible for them was impossible to discern until Arthur snapped, “I knew you were an idiot, Merlin, but this is excessive. Sophia? She’s a right piece of work. I didn’t want to bad-mouth a colleague just right out in public, but I have never had the misfortune to meet anyone so entitled and snobbish and, and simpering in my entire life!” If Merlin were in any frame of mind, he definitely would have made a crack about her and Arthur sounding like a perfect match, but fortunately for all concerned, he wasn’t. “Sophia my true love? Don’t be absurd. You’re my—” He stopped short.

Merlin felt like he was made of cut glass, suspended in a moment that held an infinity of possibilities. The next words would shatter him, no matter what they were.

“Give me the phone, Morgana,” Arthur said gruffly, and there was a rustle as it changed hands. When Arthur’s voice returned, he’d turned speaker off and his voice was close and intimate. Merlin’s heart twisted. His empty living room seemed to be watching him in keen anticipation: the whole world was holding its breath for this. “Merlin, are you there?” he said.

It was a herculean task to speak, but he did because Arthur asked him to. “Yes.”

“I don’t think the universe was ever telling you that you weren’t worthy of love. I think the universe was getting all those other idiots out of the way so that I could have you. And you could have me. I don’t want a true love who’s not you, Merlin.”

There was something in his throat. It fluttered and throbbed and felt horribly like hope. Arthur wasn’t a liar: if he was saying this, it was true. Arthur loved him. In a True Love kind of way. He licked his lips and managed to whisper, “Lance did say—”

“Don’t talk to me about Lance right now!” Arthur interrupted incredulously, unaware that Merlin had been about to tell him what Lance said about how Arthur looked at Merlin. “Perfect Lance got perfect Gwen so that stupid I could have stupid you! I love you, you idiot!”

A hysterical laugh was beginning to bubble inside him, but he couldn’t let it out yet. “You—you never said…” he said haltingly.

“I was bloody well going to, wasn’t I! I had a big Christmas Eve thing planned where I’d throw a ‘meet my true love’ dinner and surprise, it’s you! And then we’d snog all night and go to your mum’s on Christmas and have bad pudding and tell my dad the car broke down on the road so we can’t make the company party.” Arthur stopped for a moment, breathing hard, and Merlin couldn’t help the smile that was spreading across his face. His nose was still running, but the tears and the need to laugh were both fading fast. “I know five months isn’t that long,” Arthur went on softly, “but I want to be with you in five years, and then fifty, and whatever more we have after that. I want to get horribly wrinkly and old with you. That’s what I want, okay? Do you believe me?”

Merlin took a deep, shaking breath. But speaking was no effort this time. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Arthur reiterated, hope and doubt warring in his voice.

“Yes,” he agree, laughing after all, wild and happy. “I love you too, you prat.”

He heard a squeal that definitely didn’t come from Arthur—which Arthur confirmed by yelling, “Sod off, you eavesdropping harpy!”

Distantly, he heard Morgana shout back, “You’re on my mobile!” as though that justified it.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Arthur said, apparently speaking to Merlin again. Merlin’s heart thumped in anticipation. “Are you at your flat?”

“Yeah?”

“Okay. I’m coming over there. And I’m gonna kiss you til you’re even stupider than you already are.”

“Oh my god,” Merlin whispered, thrilled.

“And then I’ll probably shout a bit. But then I’m going to kiss you again. Very thoroughly. Sound good?”

“Mm-hm,” was all he could manage.

“Okay. Great. Okay. See you in twenty minutes. Bye. I love you.”

Merlin laughed, helplessly glad. “Twenty minutes. I love you too.”

“Love you too,” Arthur said, as though he’d forgotten he already said it. Morgana laughed faintly just as the line went dead.

It took a few minutes for Merlin to get some self-control back from his utter joy, but then he scrambled off the sofa, shedding coat and boots as he rushed to wash his face. He got soap in his mouth because he couldn’t stop smiling, but Arthur didn’t care when he arrived a little while later.

Notes:

Ok, ya’ll got a choice:
OPTION 1: you get the epilogue tomorrow after I proofread it one last time
OPTION 2: you wait a few days while I write the plot-irrelevant, self-indulgent, spice-level-TBD makeout scene I just glossed over. Then you get the epilogue the day after that. LMK in the comments :)

Chapter 13

Notes:

Did I say a couple days? Apparently I meant like 12 hours :P

Anyway, this turned out way less spicy than I expected, lol. There’s still kissing, but it doesn’t get beyond a T rating, and there’s a lot more emotional hurt/comfort than I originally thought there would be. Turns out there’s still some fallout for Merlin to work through, who knew! (Also I’m a huge sentimental sop. *shrugs unapologetically*) So this is mostly denouement, and the epilogue, which will go up in just a minute, is mostly goofs. I’ll write smut in some other story, but in the mean time I hope you enjoy the fluff!

extra.

It was closer to fifteen minutes rather than twenty when the buzzer rang for the building’s front door, and Merlin couldn’t keep himself from hovering near the flat’s door, listening for Arthur’s footsteps in the corridor. Part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening. To go from utter devastation to soaring joy in the span of two hours was giving him a severe case of emotional whiplash, and the waiting had let doubt creep back in.

The others had cared for Merlin too. Not many had gotten so far as to say ‘love’, but a few had—Lance had—and then they’d found their people after all. Was Arthur just in denial about Sophia? Was he confused? Was he doing this to save Merlin’s feelings? Was he setting himself up for a life of dissatisfaction just so he wouldn’t have Merlin’s broken heart on his conscience? He was a good enough person to do that.

So by the time Arthur’s footsteps came hurrying up to his door, Merlin was trembling so hard he could barely get a grip to turn the doorknob. But he managed it, and there was Arthur, breathless and gorgeous, his coat open, his hat missing, his eyes bright and eager. “Merlin,” he gasped, and reached out and cupped Merlin’s jaw in his hands, and stepped closer. Merlin didn’t even think to warn him that his mouth still tasted like soap and barely remembered to shut the door after him.

The first press of his lips sent a shock up Merlin’s spine, and shook loose the last shreds of his emotional control. Arthur was fervent, his mouth warm and firm, better than anything Merlin had ever dreamed, but his uncertainty reigned unchecked. He exhaled shakily through his nose, and even as his hands rose of their own accord to make fists in the shoulders of Arthur’s jacket, he drew back. Kissing Arthur was the nicest thing in the world, but he had to ask. He had to know.

“Merlin?” Arthur murmured, a note of concern colouring his voice.

Despite himself, tears started tracking down his cheeks again. So much for washing his face. “Do you—” He had to clear his throat. “Do you really mean it?” he whispered.

It took Arthur a moment to catch on, but then his eyes widened and his fingers tightened against Merlin’s cheeks. “Yes, Merlin, god, yes, oh my god. I meant everything I said. Sophia can go live in Antarctica for all I care. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I love you.” He stroked his thumb over Merlin’s cheek, wiping a tear away. His eyes, those stunning blue eyes Merlin had noticed at their ‘blind date’ at that stupid swanky cafe, were piercing in their sincerity.

Hope started to throb behind his sternum again. Arthur was a good enough person to lie to protect Merlin’s feelings, but he was too honourable to actually do it. “Do it again?” he asked softly.

“Which: say I love you, or kiss you?”

A little smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Both?”

“I love you, Merlin. Let’s live happily ever after and be way more perfect together than anyone else.”

The smile grew a bit bigger. “You can’t have degrees of perfection, it’s a superlative.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he smiled too. “You’re not the Soulmate Wizard anymore, you’re the Word Wonk.” But then he kissed him again, more slowly, more deeply, and when they broke apart it was because Arthur pulled away to rest his forehead against Merlin’s. “I thought you knew,” he said softly. “I thought I was so obvious. How could all those idiots do that to you, make you think no one would ever love you, I just…”

Merlin sniffed hard, but tears streaked his face again anyway. “I was never—never what they… I wasn’t right for—”

“Didn’t you hear me before?” Arthur interrupted, hands sliding up so his fingers carded into the hair at the back of Merlin’s head. “They weren’t right for you. And I promise, it’s better this way. If Lance didn’t meet Gwen, or God forbid, if Morgana didn’t meet Leon, and you stayed with one of them and then met me, you’d be the one to break their heart. And you’re too much of a softie to be happy after having done that.” He smiled at Merlin crookedly. “This way, you’re mine and you have the moral high ground on all of them forever.”

“What are you, a supervillain?” Merlin spluttered, but he was beginning to chuckle too. “You’ve got the ego for one, that’s for sure.”

“And you love me for it,” Arthur said proudly. But Merlin went tense, so used to keeping his feelings secret that he didn’t know how to react when they were spoken of so plainly. “And I love you too, remember?” Arthur said, and if Merlin weren’t already sure he would love Arthur forever, that little bit of understanding and kindness would have done it. “I’m here. It’s real. I swear, Merlin.”

“Do it again?” Merlin whispered.

The kiss this time was sweet and long and full of promises of neverending tomorrows, of arguments worked through and forgiven, of stupid rom-coms on the telly and bottles of wine and too many kisses to count. If Merlin cried again it was with relief, because trust truly outweighed doubt now. Arthur was here. Arthur loved him.

Some time later, when Arthur had succeeded in kissing Merlin til he was even stupider than before, or at least kissed some of his inhibitions away, Merlin shyly asked, “When?”

Arthur nuzzled at his temple, and, thankfully, didn’t ask for clarification. They were tangled together on the sofa, in roughly the same positions as the time Merlin had his cold and fell asleep on Arthur’s chest. Only now they were kissing, not napping. Arthur’s arms were around Merlin’s waist again, and they still felt like they belonged there. And now they could stay. “Our first fancy date. Where you made the hostess think we were only together for the sex.” Merlin snorted at the memory, but the smile that spread over his face was huge and completely sincere. He was sure he looked dopey, but he didn’t care. “I mean, for one thing, you looked incredible that night.” Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder, and his whole head bounced when Arthur laughed. “But it was also that you were thoughtful, and sincere, and I could see your kindness in how you talked about your friends, even the ones who had broken your heart before. And you asked what my type was and I almost just said ‘you’ and I wouldn’t have cared what a horrible cliché it would have been.” He planted a kiss on the side of Merlin’s head. “But I should have known sooner than that.”

“Yeah?” Merlin asked, tipping his head a bit to the side so he could look up at Arthur’s face. His ears felt like they were a thousand degrees, but again, he didn’t care.

“Yeah. The very first time we met—at the cafe, I mean, not your graduation—after you explained how I was supposedly going to find my true love because of you and everything, I thought, ‘too bad it’s not him, he’s gorgeous.’” Merlin groaned in embarrassment and happiness. “Of course,” Arthur went on, and Merlin could hear his smile in his voice, “pretty soon that turned into ‘too bad it’s him, he’s an idiot.’”

“Oi!” Merlin laughed, lifting his head, but that seemed to be what Arthur had intended to happen, because he smoothly caught Merlin’s lips with his own, and they lost more time very happily indeed.

Chapter 14

epilogue.

Three months later, the whole pack of them were jammed into Morgana and Leon’s flat, celebrating their long-awaited engagement. There had been loads of people earlier, coworkers from both sides, non-uni friends, and family members (Uther was still rather chilly towards Merlin, what with Merlin having ruined Uther’s matchmaking attempts for Arthur, but Merlin was an optimist now and knew things would get better). But slowly, most of those extraneous people had taken their leave, until it was just the old crew from school. Several people had made jokes that really this was just a Merlin’s Exes Convention, but such quips no longer bothered him. He knew he would never have another ex again.

Everyone was happily drunk, and conversation had devolved into reminiscing and nostalgia, telling funny stories and remembering inside jokes. What was the deal with Gwaine and tequila again? Right, right, the tequila gods had a grudge against him because he’d said vodka was the better clear alcohol and now whenever he drank it they made him sick, of course. And why was it Elena couldn’t keep a straight face whenever anyone mentioned motorcycles? Ah yes, because in second year she misunderstood some wanker when he went up to her at a party and said, “Fancy a ride?”

Gwen was in the middle of recounting something Lance had done (silly, but ultimately wholesome, of course, it was Lance after all), when the perfect two neurons drunkenly stumbled into each other in Merlin’s brain.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one,” he said when the laughter at Lance’s expense died down. “Who remembers this? Way back in the beginning of first year, weedy little Merlin doesn’t know crap about talking to girls—”

“Still doesn’t!” Morgana interjected cheerfully.

Merlin tried not to let his smile get too manic as everyone else laughed. “—so when a really pretty one he’s talked to a few times—”

“Are you seriously going to tell a story in third person?” Gwaine complained, sprawled against Percy on the sofa. “That’s so uncool.”

“Quiet, you,” Merlin commanded. “—so this girl, right, goes all, ‘Oh, Merlin, I’m such an idiot, I’ve only gone and let my laptop get locked in the library, and I need to work on an essay that’s due tomorrow!’” Morgana jerked up straight, the glitter of her ring suddenly as dangerous as the glint in her eyes. “‘Won’t you help me break into the library to get it out?’ Did I ask her why she didn’t just use Google Docs like a normal person? No, because I am a gentleman.”

“Merlin,” Morgana said in very grave tones. “Death and dismemberment, Merlin. Not in that order.”

“Necessary evils, Morgana,” he replied, equally serious. “You told Arthur.”

“Merlin,” she repeated, now with a note of desperation.

“And because I am a gentleman, I agree to help,” Merlin went on, back in storytelling mode, and the attention on him was avid now that the others knew the stakes of what he was doing. “and we get in and get her laptop, no trouble. But as we’re climbing back out the window, a campus security officer notices—”

“I’ll say it, Merlin,” Morgana threatened, deadly serious. “I’ll say the word.”

Merlin locked eyes with her for a very long moment. He knew better than to think she was bluffing: no one took their pride more seriously than Morgana. But even if she had had the purest of intentions by telling the ramen story, that was still worthy of retribution. So, maintaining the strongest eye contact of his life, he said, “…and starts coming over, but Morgana’s only halfway out of the window—”

Morgana leapt to her feet, startling Gwen and Leon, who were on either side of her. “Wooble!” she shouted. “Wooble wooble wooble!”

Merlin jumped up too, and darted behind Arthur’s chair (Arthur was grinning like all his birthdays had just come early), and continued loudly even though he was blushing, “—and her skirt gets caught on the window latch, but the security guy is yelling and coming at us, so—”

“WOOBLE! WOOBLE!” She surged over the coffee table like an angry tidal wave and Merlin danced backwards towards the door to the kitchen while she tried to get through the maze of chairs and friends sprawled in them. Arthur may have gotten more in the way than necessary.

“—so when she finally got herself out, her skirt stayed behind and she ran from campus security in her skivvies, thank you and goodnight!” He knew no force on Heaven or Earth could keep her at bay now, and he turned and sprinted through the kitchen and down the hallway, pursued by the raucous laughter of his friends and the pounding of Morgana’s footsteps. “Arthur, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me!” he hollered. “Tell my mother I love her! Aaaahhhh!!”

“WOOBLE!” Morgana shrieked as she chased him.

And through the glee of his revenge and the terror of his impending doom, Merlin had space to realize that he’d do every single bit of his life all over again, even the really really stupid and painful bits, so long as it always led to this moment: surrounded by people he loved, with the most perfect boyfriend he could imagine, and a best friend who was about to murder him.

Notes:

I cannot say a big enough thank you to everyone who has read and commented and left kudos on this. Your enthusiasm has been so infectious and made me so happy I decided to start posting my work for this fandom (and there's a lot more coming, don't worry! *glances nervously at the dozen incomplete stories in my docs* No promises on when though lol). I hope the resolution is as satisfying to read as it was fun to write!