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Merlin had a secret.
Sometimes, when he’d been lazy about doing laundry and ran out of clean socks, he borrowed a pair from Arthur. Arthur never ran out of socks, because he had his laundry sent out like the posh git that he was and therefore Merlin felt it was only fair that he redistribute the wealth.
Merlin had another secret, a much more secret secret -- his magic. Arthur already knew about that though.
When Merlin had started interviewing for a flatmate, he promised himself that he would tell his preferred candidate about his magic before they signed the lease. His sexuality he wasn’t as fussed about -- he put “gay friendy!” in the advert and assumed that would keep any homophobes from applying -- but bringing up the magic had been a bit more nerve wracking. Magic was no longer illegal, but that didn’t mean that everyone approved of it and Merlin usually waited until he had a read on someone before mentioning it. To Merlin’s relief, Arthur had just shrugged and told him that his step-sister had a bit of magic, so it wasn’t a big deal to him.
Merlin felt certain that he had more than just a bit of magic, although he hadn’t been officially evaluated, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind so he didn’t either. Arthur had also told him he was bisexual but didn’t have time to date due to a busy work schedule, and Merlin didn’t mind that either.
Arthur definitely didn’t know about the socks though, so Merlin had to be stealthy.
The shower had started up just a moment ago, so Merlin knew he’d have about seven minutes before Arthur came bursting out in a cloud of steam and with a towel wrapped around his waist. As soon as the change in the sounds of the water splashing signaled that Arthur had stepped into the spray, Merlin dashed down the hall in his boxer briefs and bare feet. Arthur’s room was spotlessly clean and smelled of Arthur’s aftershave and the green scent of the succulents that he carefully tended in the windowsill. Merlin took a moment to breathe it in before he crossed to the mahogany dresser and carefully pulled the sock drawer open.
The white of the paper tucked in the back corner was what caught his eye first, because Arthur Pendragon did not own white socks. Then his eye snagged on his own name printed on the corner of white peeking up from the corner and he couldn’t help carefully extracting it from where it was lodged behind Arthur’s gym socks. Which was how he found himself standing mostly naked in Arthur’s room, a pair of black dress socks in one hand and the list in the other.
Because it was definitely a list. A list of exactly what Merlin couldn’t quite tell, but his name was clearly there at the top.
Thing…….e about Merlin
He frowned at the missing words as his brain tried to complete the puzzle. It looked as if the list had been written then hastily ripped off the pad, the flimsy paper leaving behind the missing words. The sensible part of Merlin’s brain screamed at him to put the paper down, go back to his room and put the entire incident completely out of his mind, but well. Merlin wasn’t exactly sensible. So he read the list.
- The way he steals socks from my drawer when he runs out and thinks I don’t notice.
Merlin felt his face turning pink and couldn’t help looking over his shoulder for a secret camera or to see Arthur glaring at him. Finding nothing, he continued.
- The way he does a voice for the cat and makes him talk to me.
- His ridiculous first of the month celebrations.
- The way I can always feel his magic when we’re both in the flat.
- The way he walks around the flat barely dressed half the time.
- How he tucks his cold feet underneath my legs on the sofa.
- When he crawls into my bed at night when one of us has had a bad day.
- His stupidly big ears.
- The way he follows me into my room to talk to the plants.
Merlin didn’t know how long he’d been standing frozen in the middle of Arthur’s bedroom, but the sound of the shower falling silent snapped him back to reality. He knew he only had two minutes at the most, so he ran lightly back to the kitchen and grabbed his mobile. He took a photo of the list, returned it to its spot and made it back to his room before the bathroom door opened.
He closed the door and sat down hard on the bed. He opened the photos and stared at it helplessly, his hands shaking and his body still flooded with ugly adrenaline at seeing Arthur deriding so much of their life together. He could feel the blood rushing uncomfortably to his face and horrifyingly he felt his eyes prickling with tears. He moved to sit at his desk and pulled a piece of paper and a biro toward him.
Things I dislike about Merlin . He turned his mobile lengthwise and enlarged the photo until the handwriting was about the same size as his print, then tried to fit it against the title of the list. Merlin frowned when the words didn't quite line up. So something shorter than “dislike” … ending in “e”. Merlin wracked his brain for a solution, but in the end he swallowed and picked up the biro again with an unsteady hand.
Things I hate about Merlin , he printed carefully.
It fit perfectly.
Merlin sat back and took a shaky breath. Because the thing was -- Merlin had a third secret.
Even though he knew it was a corny rom-com, fairytale fantasy -- he’d really thought that he and Arthur would wind up together. Sure, Arthur was a posh investment banker and Merlin a nurse, and Arthur was a neat freak while Merlin prefered a nice, cozy sloppiness, and Merlin was a cat person while Arthur prefered his pets non-sentient. Merlin knew all that, but still. He had been so certain after nearly a year of living together that they were inching toward the inevitable, ever so slowly. And even more amazing, for the first time in his life Merlin -- who usually dove into relationships head first, consequences be damned -- had been content to just wait and let things play out in their achingly sweet way. He’d quietly stopped dating and had been waiting patiently for the moment that Arthur’s lingering gazes and casual touches turned into something more.
But now Merlin was holding proof in his hands that he had been reading the situation wrong the entire time.
He heard Arthur whistling cheerily from the kitchen and realized that he normally would have left for work by now. He debated calling in for a solid minute, but instead texted Gwen that he was running late and begged her to cover for him. She replied with a string of angry-looking emojis but no refusal. He took a deep breath, then another, and tried to think things through logically instead of getting swept into a whirlpool of bad feelings.
Why would Arthur make a list like this? Well, clearly because he hated Merlin so much that he felt the need to enumerate it. But why?
Something occurred to Merlin that he stupidly hadn’t considered before -- was Arthur thinking about moving out? They were coming up on their lease renewal, and there had never been any question in Merlin’s mind that Arthur would sign on for another year. But what if he was using this list as a sort of pros and cons exercise to decide whether to move out?
Considering the list from the practical I don’t want to lose my roommate stance as opposed to the wistful but I kind of wanted to shag my roommate stupid was what unfroze Merlin. He sat back in his chair and considered his plan of action. Arthur may not want to shag him -- apparently Arthur didn’t even like him all that much -- but he paid his half of the rent on time, did more than his fair share of chores, rarely invited guests over and always treated Merlin when he got a take away. Plus, he was okay with Merlin’s magic. Merlin could not afford to lose him.
He took another more critical look at the list and felt himself relax a little. Most of these complaints would be relatively easy to correct -- nothing but the overly familiar behavior of long-term flatmates. He could see how it could get annoying after a while. Most of these things could be easily corrected as long as he was thinking about it. He felt a little bit embarrassed about the first of the month celebration and coming into Arthur’s room at night. Sure, Arthur had seemed a little taken aback by both the first time, but he’d never given any indication that either annoyed him. Still -- they would be easy enough to stop doing.
Merlin carefully tried not to think too much about the ears comment. Not because it actually upset him -- he had a pretty thick skin when it came to his ears; he had heard every joke by the time he was five years old. No, what hurt was that he did notice who made fun of them and who didn’t and he was positive that Arthur had never -- even playfully -- teased Merlin about his ears before. Merlin wondered idly whether that just meant Arthur had been making fun of them behind his back? But then he was determined to put it out of his mind -- it was none of his business what people thought of how he looked, after all. He knew from experience that growing his hair out a bit helped, and that was easily enough done.
The only item on the list that truly gave him pause was the fourth -- “ The way I can always feel his magic when we’re both in the flat. ” Merlin frowned. Arthur had never mentioned this to him and it made him feel weirdly self-conscious.
For lack of a better metaphor, Merlin thought of his ambient magic as a well-trained but excitable retriever. When he was out in public or at work he could always bring it to heel, but when he was home and relaxed he didn’t mind letting it wander through the flat a bit. He was well aware that his magic loved Arthur, that every time he came home it bounded toward the front door to greet him. But Merlin hadn’t realized that Arthur could feel it. No one else could, as far as Merlin knew. But now he wondered who else might be politely not mentioning it. He realized that he had already subconsciously drawn his magic closer into himself and sighed. He may as well start straight away.
Merlin closed out of the gallery of his mobile and glanced at the time on the display. If he hurried he would only be a little late for work and Mithian wouldn’t murder him. He jumped at a knock on his bedroom door and remembered that he never heard Arthur leave. He shoved the stolen socks under his pillow and he called for Arthur to enter.
Arthur, looking devastating as usual in his perfectly tailored suit, leaned in looking concerned.
“Everything alright? Aren’t you usually gone by now?”
“Oh, yes, just running a bit late,” Merlin replied, feeling his ears turn red.
“Okay,” Arthur said slowly, “It’s just that-- well I felt --”
He seemed to hesitate over the words so Merlin rushed on to save him.
“Just fine! No worries. I’m just on my way now, actually.” He looked down and realized that he was still barefoot. “Just need some, uh.” He looked around to where he had cast aside yesterday’s socks and made a grab for them.
Turned so he was half-sheltered from Arthur’s curious gaze, he whispered a spell to magic the socks clean, then sat on the bed to pull them on. Arthur looked on curiously, as he always did when Merlin performed these little domestic spells.
“Why don’t you do that with all your clothes, instead of spending all that time at the launderette?”
Merlin, who had felt a tendril of errant magic break free to twine around Arthur’s wrist, almost missed the question.
“Huh?” he said, looking up in time to catch Arthur trailing his fingertips over his wrist with a fond half-smile. “Oh, because they itch something horrible when I do them this way. But I’m out of clean socks so … only option really.”
Merlin remembered in a flash that Arthur knew about the bloody stolen socks, because it had been the first thing on the list. He very studiously avoided Arthur’s eye as he pushed past him, but couldn’t miss the knowing smirk on his lips.
He thought about it the entire way to work, burning up his battery and almost missing his stop because he couldn’t stop pulling his mobile to look over the list again. When he finally arrived on his floor, he almost ran into Gwen coming out of a patient room. She glared at him.
“I covered for you, but you’re taking Ms. Evans in 409 -- she is in a right mood this morning.”
Merlin winced internally, but thanked Gwen effusively as he got logged into his station. He hesitated, but as she was about to walk away from the station he blurted out, “Do you think I’m a bad roommate?”
Gwen had lived with him for five years after university, right up until she had got engaged, so he thought that she would be able to tell him the truth about the worst of his behavior. But she just looked surprised.
“Merlin! Of course not -- I loved living with you, you know that. Where is this coming from? Did Arthur say something?”
Merlin kept his eyes carefully on his laptop, “Not exactly.”
A buzzer indicated that someone had pressed their call button and Gwen sighed and shot him a look.
“Take lunch at one. We’re discussing this further.”
Shortly after one, Merlin and Gwen’s knees were pressed together at one of the tiny cafeteria tables. Merlin quickly explained how he found the note and handed over the photo on his mobile. He picked at his salad whilst sending longing looks at Gwen’s pizza slices as Gwen scanned the list with a little smile.
“Oh, the first of the month parties! Gosh, I miss those. Can I come over and join you for the next one?”
“ ‘M not doing them anymore,” Merlin mumbled with his mouth full.
That actually made him a bit more melancholy than he liked to admit. The first of the month parties were a tradition that his mother had started after his father had left them. Merlin at barely twelve had been surly and depressed at turns and one morning his mother had woken him up early and told him they were having a first of the month party. She had made a proper fry up breakfast instead of forcing him to eat something healthy and cheap like porridge. She had leftover Christmas crackers on the table, which gave Merlin a warm, holiday feeling. As they ate their breakfast, Merlin’s mum had rabbited on about the best and worst things from the previous month, then coaxed Merlin to do the same. Then they gave each other challenges for the coming month -- Hunith challenged Merlin not to slam any doors, he challenged her not to curse out any of the bill collectors that had been calling. The whole playful meal had made him feel cheerful for the first time in weeks and so it had become a monthly tradition -- one he’d carried over into university and beyond.
Gwen -- who had taken to the first of the month parties with gusto and excelled at coming up with weird challenges for Merlin -- shook her head at his dramatics. Then her smile turned to a frown.
“What’s this about magic in the flat?” she asked, keeping her voice pitched low.
“I was actually going to ask you about that,” Merlin said, carefully picking a cucumber out of his salad and depositing it on Gwen’s plate. “Because this is the first I’ve heard about it. Could you feel my magic when we lived together?”
Gwen chewed thoughtfully.
“I think I could usually feel when you were using your magic for something … well, ‘feel’ is too strong a word actually, it was more like. Oh, it’s hard to explain,” she complained, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Kind of like when it’s windy outside and someone opens a window on the other side of the flat. You can just feel the air shift around you a little.”
Merlin nodded, trying not to feel terribly self-conscious that he hadn’t known about this until now. “That makes sense, I guess, when I’m drawing the magic up to do something. But you didn’t feel it all the time -- right?”
Gwen shook her head.
“No, it was definitely only when you were using it. But it sounds like for Arthur it’s all the time?”
Merlin nodded miserably.
“I know--” he started, then stopped, realizing how stupid this was going to sound. “Well … I think my magic likes him.”
“‘Your magic,’” Gwen said, making air quotes.
“Shut up! Obviously I like him too, I never said I didn’t,” Merlin glanced at his watch and shoved another forkful of salad into his mouth. “But I’ve liked lots of people. None of them made my magic act like this.”
Gwen hummed thoughtfully. She returned to reading through the list.
“Do you really get in bed with him some nights?” She said with a pleased smile. “That is adorable.”
Merlin turned pink and snatched the mobile away from her.
“Apparently he doesn’t think so.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and bit into her pizza.
“You know, you’ve no proof that these are things he hates about you. Couldn’t they just as easily be things he likes about you? The spacing would fit.”
Merlin scoffed. “Gwen, in case you haven’t noticed, these are nearly all annoying things that I do around the flat. I hardly think anyone could like my voice for Kilgharrah.”
“Love is blind,” Gwen said, and it was Merlin’s turn to roll his eyes. “Anyway, it mostly makes me miss living with you. Although perhaps not the walking around half-naked part.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “That must be new – showing off the goods?”
Merlin gave up on the salad and pushed his chair back to leave. “I don’t know why I tell you anything,” he complained without heat. But Gwen’s hand darted out to grab his wrist.
“Okay, listen – you want my honest advice? You,” she tugged him back into his chair, “do not know what this,” she gestured broadly at his mobile, “means. It wasn’t meant for your snooping eyes and it’s none of your business. I think you should do your best to put it out of your mind and not try to change who you are just for a flatmate. Even a fit one who pays the rent on time. You are perfect exactly as you are and you deserve to be comfortable in your own flat. If Arthur wants to leave because of this,” she gestured to the mobile again, “he bloody well can. Or he can talk to you about it like an adult instead of leaving cryptic little lists about the flat.”
Merlin wanted to protest, but the words died on his lips. He knew Gwen was being completely sensible as always, so he just nodded and gave her a tight smile. She patted his arm encouragingly and let him dash back to the ward. He spent the rest of his shift turning over her words and mentally reviewing the items on the list.
On the way home, he stopped at a department store to buy a proper dressing gown and several pairs of warm house socks -- and some dress socks as well, just to be on the safe side. He knew Gwen was right, but couldn’t risk giving Arthur a reason to move out -- he just couldn’t.
The first time he wore the silk dressing gown in front of Arthur, he’d laughed so hard he’d choked on his tea.
“Protecting your virtue, are you?” Arthur asked, eyes shining with mischief.
“What, you don’t like it?” Merlin put his hands on his hips with a mock glare.
“You look like someone’s demented grandfather,” Arthur said gleefully, grabbing at the tie around the waist and pulling it undone as Merlin huffed past him. “Or Hugh Heffner.”
“Well, at least I’m covered up,” Merlin said, batting away Arthur’s hand and redoing the tie tighter. “Figured you were getting sick of seeing me flitting around practically starkers.”
Arthur’s playful smile immediately turned into a frown. He looked at Merlin for several seconds as if he wanted to say something, but just went back to sipping his tea.
The next time Merlin wore the dressing gown, Arthur didn’t comment. But after that, Merlin caught him glaring at it whenever he thought Merlin wasn’t looking.
Several days later, Merlin had just gotten home and was conducting his double shift ritual -- sprawling across the sofa and not moving for a solid twenty minutes. As usual, the second he was prone Kilgharrah had sensed it from somewhere in the flat and appeared from nowhere to leap onto his back. Merlin groaned but didn’t have the energy to bat him off. Kilgharrah walked carefully up Merlin’s spine and started to knead at his shoulder. Merlin huffed a laugh into his arm.
“Thanks for the massage, Killy,” he said, and then immediately answered for the cat in a deep voice, “Silence human! I’m attempting to make your bony body comfortable enough to nap on.”
“Oh, well don’t let me--” Merlin snapped his mouth shut when Arthur suddenly emerged from his room holding a watering can.
Normally the can was a cue for Merlin to follow Arthur back into his room and visit with the plants whilst he watered them, but today he remained on the sofa. Partly because he was genuinely exhausted, but he also reminded himself morosely that talking to the plants was another seemingly innocuous thing that Arthur apparently hated about him. Arthur filled the can at the kitchen sink and crossed back to his room, then poked his head out and frowned.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Nah,” Merlin said, “I’ve got twelve more minutes on the sofa before I can move.”
“I can wait for you?” Arthur offered, gripping the watering can tighter.
“The cat’s on me though.”
“So I see,” Arthur said, a hint of a smile playing around his lips. “And what does Kilgharrah say about it?”
“Nothing. He’s a cat,” Merlin said dully, turning his head and pillowing it on one arm so he could see Arthur better.
The smile slipped from Arthur’s face and his ears turned just the slightest bit pink. Merlin wasn’t sure what that was about, but he turned his face back toward the cushions. “I know I just get in your way anyway.”
“What are you talking about, of course you don’t.”
“What about last month? You said my nattering distracted you and you couldn’t remember whether you had already fertilized the spiral aloe or not. You had to redo your entire spreadsheet.”
Despite feeling a bit melancholy over the whole Arthur hating him thing, Merlin was not going to miss an opportunity to make fun of him for his plant care spreadsheet.
“That was once!” Arthur protested, “And it’s fine now!”
“Still,” Merlin said, stretching then folding his arms under his head. “Best not to risk it.”
There was a long pause. Merlin assumed Arthur had already returned to his room when he heard his cool voice say, “Suit yourself.”
The door shut sharply behind him. Merlin groaned into the pillow.
A week later Merlin was again lying on the sofa, this time congratulating himself on how well he’d been conducting Project Stop Being Obnoxious So Arthur Doesn’t Move Out. He still had to catch himself from doing the voice for Kilgharrah, but he’d greatly improved from the nightly conversations they’d been having previously. He’d put a reminder in his mobile to make sure he always had clean socks. The dressing gown and house socks actually weren’t half bad, and he was growing his hair out to at least cover his ears a bit.
Just as he was thinking cheerfully that he’d ring up the landlord next week and – with his new and improved good behaviour – get Arthur secured on the lease for another year, Arthur himself barged into the flat and slammed the door behind him and sent all of Merlin’s resolve straight to hell.
This was the item on the list that he had been most dreading. Because despite what Gwen thought, Merlin didn’t get into bed with Arthur to be adorable or pervy. It was because Merlin had learnt over the course of the last year that when Arthur got into a foul mood like this, what he really needed was to talk it out with someone. If he didn’t, he’d be in a terrible mood all week and eventually take out the frustration on his body -- either through excessive alcohol or working out until he hurt himself. Merlin knew that if he could get Arthur to talk through what was bothering him that he would settle and only be mildly moody for a few days. But god forbid Arthur, English to his bones, could actually sit down and have a conversation about his feelings unless he was half asleep and in a pitch black room.
Merlin was aware that it was not his responsibility to look after Arthur’s well-being – Merlin had convinced him to see a therapist, but knew that due to his schedule their meetings were sporadic at best -- but after they had talked about Arthur’s emotionally repressed upbringing, Merlin could help but take pity on him. In contrast, Merlin had been raised by a licensed family counselor and had learned how to express his emotions in a healthy manner while he was still in the nursery, so he was happy to help Arthur navigate his feelings as long as he was feeling up for it himself.
As casually as he could, Merlin slipped off the sofa and headed into the kitchen to make some tea.
“Bad day?” he said lightly, trying to catch Arthur’s eye as he threw his briefcase and suit coat at the kitchen table. He wheeled around with a glower but when he saw Merlin filling the kettle he seemed to deflate a bit.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and muttered, “Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Arthur snorted and collapsed into a kitchen chair. “Dunno. Maybe later.”
Merlin was glad his back was to Arthur because he didn’t think he would have been able to school his surprise. That was a new one – typically Arthur just grumbled and refused to talk about it until Merlin crept in to check on him after they had both ostensibly turned in.
He didn’t know what had compelled him to go to Arthur the first time – actually, that wasn’t exactly true. It had been his magic, which had tugged at Merlin all evening until he had been half asleep and barely aware of what was happening himself as his feet carried him down the hall. Arthur had seemed surprised, but barely put up any resistance and had instead confessed to Merlin a whole flood of issues with his father at the bank. Merlin knew now that it was almost always something to do with Arthur’s father when he got like this. He’d never met the man, but he felt for sure that if he did he wouldn’t be able to resist giving him a shake for what he was doing to his son.
Even now Merlin could feel his magic pushing out from his skin and leaning toward Arthur like iron filings toward a magnet. Merlin shifted uncomfortably at the worktop as Arthur let out another sigh and pulled out his mobile to scroll through his messages. His magic had never felt quite this persistent before and when his stomach began to cramp slightly he finally thought sod it. He unleashed the magic so it could rush to swarm Arthur, as it clearly wanted to.
Merlin felt instant relief physically but kicked himself mentally. He’d been doing so well and here he was, about to ruin everything. But to his surprise, Arthur just let out a small hum of contentment. He looked over his shoulder to see Arthur’s eyes closed and his head tilted back a bit.
He whipped his head back around before Arthur could catch his eye. Neither of them acknowledged it, but Merlin was almost positive he heard a quiet “thank you” from Arthur. He didn’t know how to respond, since Arthur had never actually told him that he could feel his magic so he wasn’t supposed to know. Or did Arthur assume that Merlin knew he could feel the magic? Merlin felt his ears turn pink and was relieved when the kettle clicked off and he could fuss around with their tea bags.
“I have one of those frozen pasta bakes -- if you want I can just make that for us for dinner?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. Arthur had returned to his previous position hunched over his mobile at the table. He grunted and then rubbed his face with one hand.
“Yeah, actually … that would be great. Thank you, Merlin.”
“Of course.”
Merlin pushed frozen bags of veg and half-eaten pints of ice cream around in the freezer until he could dislodge the frozen meal. He started the oven then shoved the bake in without waiting for it to pre-heat. Arthur had taken his tea to the sofa so Merlin joined him, stretching out his legs and stopping himself just in time from shoving his cold feet under Arthur’s warm thigh. God, it really had become second nature without Merlin even realizing. The aborted motion caught Arthur’s eye and he actually gave Merlin a small smile through the thundercloud expression he had been wearing.
“Go on then, I don’t mind,” he said quietly, looking straight ahead and taking a sip of tea.
“But –“ Merlin said, then remembered that he couldn’t actually blurt out You hate it! It was on your list! “Sorry. It’s rude of me.”
Arthur snorted. “Never stopped you before.”
Merlin, carefully balancing his tea, twisted and tucked his feet under him and well away from Arthur, whose expression only grew more thunderous. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment and then without warning Arthur launched himself from the sofa and stalked to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Merlin sighed and stretched his feet out to where Arthur’s spot was still warm.
Arthur’s mood didn’t improve much over dinner, where he responded to Merlin’s attempts at small talk in grunted monosyllables. Near the end of the meal, Kilgharrah wandered in, no doubt to express his displeasure that he hadn’t gotten his dinner yet. He strolled to the centre of the kitchen, wrapped his fluffy tail around his feet and fixed his piercing gaze on Arthur. Arthur glanced up just as Merlin opened his mouth to demand the human pass him a morsel of food. When Arthur’s gaze fell on him, he shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth instead. Arthur immediately scowled and after that Merlin gave up trying to draw him out. They finished the meal in silence.
While Arthur was taking out his anger on the washing up, Merlin slipped away to his room and flopped onto the bed. Out of habit, he pulled out his mobile and brought up his photo of the list.
He was so confused. The list was right here in front of him, all the annoying things he did to Arthur on nearly a daily basis -- but this evening it seemed like Arthur had been more angry when he didn’t do them. Or maybe he’d been reading the situation wrong and Arthur was annoyed that he had even started to do the cat’s voice? But no, he had said it was okay to put his feet under his legs, hadn’t he? But, well, no – he hadn’t said it was okay , he had just told Merlin to go on and that he didn’t mind.
Merlin rolled onto his stomach unhappily. He didn’t want to risk making Arthur more angry by doing something that was clearly on the list, but if he didn’t go talk to Arthur tonight would he be able to get out of this funk by himself? His magic rippled languidly as he felt Arthur moving around the kitchen, tidying up and getting his things together for the next day. Merlin tentatively tried pulling his magic back into himself, but it clung to Arthur so he gave up and let it stay where it wanted to be. He sighed and pulled his laptop toward him, looking for some distraction.
Several episodes of an American cooking competition show later, Merlin pushed the laptop shut and went down the hall to clean his teeth. The flat was dark and he could see that even the lights in Arthur’s room were off already, despite the fact that it was only half nine. On his way back to his room, he stood outside Arthur’s room for a long moment, fingertips brushing the door and wavering with uncertainty of whether he would be welcome. Finally he sighed and returned to his own room. He turned off the lights but left his door open as he stripped to his boxer briefs and crawled into the bed.
Merlin laid in the dark, listening to the sound of his own breathing and Kilgharrah’s rumbling purr. He held the thread of magic that connected him and Arthur like a lover’s hand. He tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as he sent soothing pulses through the flat, hoping if he wasn’t allowed to comfort Arthur himself, that surely this would be allowed.
Despite being certain that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, Merlin had just started to doze when a jolt of pain shot through him. He was on his feet and down the hall before he could even register what was happening, stumbling over Arthur’s trainers in the hall and ricocheting off the end table. When he got to Arthur’s door he didn’t even knock, just breathlessly pushed his way in. He froze in the doorway, some of his senses finally coming back to him, and assessed the situation.
The room was dark, but there was enough light from the streetlamps outside for him to see Arthur curled onto his side facing away from Merlin. Merlin watched for a moment, unsure whether Arthur was awake or asleep, then he heard the tiniest hitch of breath.
“Arthur?” Merlin said, keeping his voice as soft and calm as he could. “Is it okay if I come in?”
Arthur didn’t say anything, but shuffled closer to the far end of the bed in silent invitation for Merlin to do what he usually did -- crawl in behind him. Merlin hesitated, torn between wanting to comfort his friend and thoughts of the list of things that Arthur hated him doing. Finally he crossed the room and settled on the carpet with his back propped against the bed, drawing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around them.
From the doorway this had seemed like a good compromise, but in practice he realized how much closer it put him to Arthur than if he had laid beside him on the bed. Arthur’s entire body was curled around Merlin’s head. From this close, he could hear Arthur’s ragged breaths. He made sure to keep his eyes carefully trained on the window.
For a moment Merlin was silent. He’d never felt self-conscious about comforting Arthur before, and he silently cursed the list. But surely it’s the actual act of being in the bed with Arthur that he didn’t like, so as he’s on the floor and not the bed he tried to put it out of his mind. He took a breath to speak but before he could, Arthur extracted a hand from where it was buried in the duvet and curled it warmly around the base of Merlin’s skull.
“Didn’t think you were coming,” he murmured sleepily, stroking through Merlin’s hair with his thumb.
“Could have just asked me, you prat,” Merlin replied quietly. His mouth had gone dry at the touch. It felt so good that he was trying not to push back into it. Arthur chuckled and Merlin could feel the way the heat of his pleasure washed out through his magic to fill the room. He bit back a satisfied sigh but found that one escaped from Arthur’s mouth instead. Merlin felt his cheeks grow warm, but neither of them acknowledged what was happening with Merlin’s magic between them.
“Your father then?” Merlin asked softly when Arthur’s hand stopped moving.
Arthur exhaled shakily.
"Yeah."
"What he's done now?"
There was the period of silence that Merlin had been expecting, but he was surprised when he felt Arthur's hand resume its stroking. This time he gave in and leaned back into the caress.
“There was a mistake at work. A bad one. Father gave me a total dressing down in front of the entire board. All but said I was too stupid to be his son. Was on the phone with investors for hours apologizing,” Arthur’s voice sounded tired and hollow to Merlin’s ears. Merlin lolled his head to the side and caught his eye.
“So who really made the mistake?”
Merlin was close enough to feel Arthur’s soft huff of laughter against his cheek. He shifted even closer and reached his hand around to brush across Merlin’s cheek. Merlin’s swallow sounded loud in the dark room and he closed his eyes at the touch, trying not to give anything away with his breathing.
“How did you know?” Arthur asks softly, keeping his fingertips pressed intimately to Merlin’s skin. Now it was Merlin’s turn to laugh.
“If it was actually your fault, you wouldn’t be this upset,” he shifted forward slightly, casually dislodging Arthur’s hand before he forgot himself and crawled into Arthur’s lap. If Arthur noticed him move away, he didn’t comment, but he did go back to his sleepy stroking of Merlin’s hair.
“You’re growing it out,” Arthur said absently.
Merlin just shrugged and waited for him to go on.
“It was Percy,” Arthur said at last, with a miserable sounding sigh. “It actually was quite a bad mistake, but it wasn’t his fault. Well, it was but … his wife -- she was pregnant, 31 weeks I think, and she went into labor early. Their son -- well, the prognosis is good now, but it was touch and go for a while. He’s still in the NICU. Obviously I told Perce to take all the time he needs, but … well, long story short, something urgent came up and he was the only one who could pull the numbers, only he transposed one. An important one though.” Arthur’s hand had paused and his voice grew soft again.
“If my father knew it was him, he would have sacked him in a second. So I told him it was my error. And honestly -- it was. I should never have called him in to handle it, I should have figured out another way. But father is so antsy since we lost that high profile investor and … well, he can’t sack me. Honestly, I think a sacking would have been preferable. God, he said the worst things”
Merlin leaned back to look at Arthur again. He had curled back into a miserable ball and was staring toward the window. He took a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to listen to this--”
“Stop that. You know I don’t mind, or I wouldn’t be here,” Merlin said firmly. “And you’re being too hard on yourself. You know Percy is perfectly capable of telling you no -- if he agreed to help then he wanted to, so you can put that right out of your mind.”
Arthur was silent, but Merlin could tell he was considering his words.
Merlin turned his body so that he was facing Arthur and curled so that his head was on the mattress, close to Arthur’s.
“I’m sorry about your father though,” he said softly. “That’s utter crap and you know it. How much longer, do you think?”
Arthur sighed and pulled one hand up to rub at his face, then rolled onto his back.
“Six more months, a year at the outside. Once we get past the trade meeting I’ll hopefully have managed to do enough to prove myself. After that I can start putting out some feelers and seeing what kind of offers I could get. But honestly -- this is going to set me back. Half the board thinks I can barely wipe my own arse after father’s tirade today. It makes me wonder if he knows that I’m thinking about leaving.”
Merlin gave a sympathetic hum and the two were silent for a moment in which Merlin became acutely aware of the cool temperature in the room. He tried to suppress a sudden shiver, but Arthur must have felt his body convulse against the bed. He craned his neck down, his frown turning into a grin when he realized that Merlin had completely forgotten his dressing gown.
“Cold down there?” he teased, his voice low in a way that made Merlin shiver for an entirely different reason.
“No,” Merlin replied stubbornly, wrapping his arms around his knees again.
“Idiot,” Arthur said fondly. He scooted over on the bed and reached for Merlin’s arm, hauling him up despite his protests.
Lying in the warmth of Arthur’s recently vacated spot made Merlin feel dizzy. Just for a moment he closed his eyes and let himself sink into the warm, heady feeling of being utterly wrapped up in Arthur Pendragon. His heat, his scent, his breaths coming softly and steadily from across the pillow -- it was all so perfect that he could feel his magic rising up again and he barely had time to snatch it back so it didn’t envelope Arthur and give all his secrets away.
When Merlin had gotten himself somewhat under control, he opened his eyes to find Arthur watching him fondly. And in that moment he knew -- he just knew with absolute certainty -- that this would have been it. The moment when Merlin finally said fuck it and for the first time moved closer to Arthur instead of pushing him away.
But the list.
Merlin flinched, remembering miserably that getting into bed with Arthur had been one of the things that Arthur apparently hated Merlin doing.
But why? his brain screamed. Why did he pull me into the bed if he doesn’t want me here? Why would he look at me like--
Merlin shut down this line of thought and rolled over to face the window. He pulled his magic back into himself, trying not to think about the confused and hurt look on Arthur’s face as he turned away. Merlin started out holding himself stiffly, but exhaustion quickly began to win out. He knew he should make sure Arthur was okay, then go back to his own bed, but he was so comfortable and warm. His mind started to slip back under to sleep until he was startled awake by Arthur’s soft voice close to his ear.
“What about you?”
Merlin’s sluggish brain struggled to understand. “Hmm?”
“Is everything okay? I feel like you’ve been acting … oddly lately. Different.”
Arthur’s voice was so unsure that Merlin immediately came back to full awakeness.
“What do you mean?” he asked carefully, risking a glance at Arthur over his shoulder.
Arthur sighed and flopped onto his back, looking a bit miserable.
“I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve been acting differently around me and I wanted to make sure …. well, nevermind, it’s stupid.”
Merlin felt his pulse pick up as he let the silence stretch out. Arthur shifted back onto his side facing Merlin, who could practically feel his eyes on him. Finally, the pressure of the unspoken words outweighed Merlin’s nervousness at the line of questioning.
“What?” he asked softly.
“I just wanted to be sure you aren’t … you know. Uncomfortable with me.”
Merlin couldn’t help laughing because in the last weeks he had been anything but comfortable around Arthur. But definitely not for the reasons Arthur was thinking. He rolled onto his stomach and shoved his arms up under the pillow with a sigh. In the shadows he could see Arthur’s brow furrow and wanted to reach over to smooth it.
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Okay," Arthur said, still sounding unsure. Merlin kicked him in the ankle.
"Do I seem like I'm uncomfortable with you right now?"
"Okay, point taken." Merlin could hear the smile in his voice. He curled to face Arthur, who nudged his ankle back gently. “It’s just … I know the lease is coming up so I just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t your way of … you know. Telling me you didn’t want me here.”
Merlin raised his head from the pillow and looked at Arthur with genuine surprise.
“What? No, of course not! I mean -- yes, I want you here. God, I thought that you were the one who wanted to leave!”
Arthur laughed.
“What on earth would give you that idea? I plan on staying as long as you’ll have me.”
“Good. Oh Arthur that’s -- it makes me so happy to hear you say that.” Merlin felt such happiness and relief in the moment that a strand of magic once again broke loose and curled down Arthur’s forearm and around his wrist.
“You could have just asked me about it, idiot.” Arthur’s hand reached across the space between them and his fingers traced lightly down Merlin’s forearm and across his wrist, mirroring the magic’s touch. Merlin was grateful for the dark as the blood rushed to his face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I think it likes you.”
“I think I like it,” Arthur replied sleepily as he drew back his hand. Merlin was wondering where else Arthur would touch if he let his magic touch him there first, but Arthur just rolled onto his stomach with a sigh.
“Of course, we’ll see if I have a job on Monday to pay the rent with.”
Merlin remembered with a jolt that he was here to comfort Arthur, not for ill-advised flirting. He reached over to pat Arthur on the back, but found his hand lingering and stroking wide circles across his shoulders.
"Stop it, you’ll have a job. Uther would never go so far as to fire you. Who would he use to make an example of then?” Merlin winced at his idiotic words, but Arthur chuckled softly.
“I don’t know whether that’s reassuring or not.”
Merlin decided to err on the side of silence, but he kept rubbing Arthur’s back absently.
“You think you’re going to be okay though?" Merlin asked at length.
Arthur let out a long breath.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Good," Merlin said around a yawn, thinking he really ought to go back to his room before he passed out. But before he could make his excuses and push himself up, he felt movement at his feet. Arthur's foot insinuated itself into his territory and he felt Arthur's instep rub against the sole of his foot.
Merlin closed his eyes against the flood of emotion rushing through him and pressed his face into the pillow. He knew he should shift away, but somehow he couldn't make himself pull his foot back. Arthur paused his stroking, but left his foot pressed intimately against Merlin's.
"Thank you," he said with an earnestness that made Merlin's heart ache. Merlin remained frozen in place until Arthur withdrew his foot and rolled so he was facing away from Merlin.
"I'm sorry," Arthur's voice was low, "You shouldn't have to come babysit me when I've had a bad day."
"Hey," Merlin protested, finally able to find his voice now that Arthur didn't have parts of his body pressed to Merlin's. “You’re my mate, and if I didn't want to I wouldn’t, okay?”
Arthur was silent for a moment, and then whispered back, “okay.”
The silence stretched out and Merlin could feel the moment that Arthur drifted off, his body going slack under the soothing movements of his hand. He carefully made the circles smaller and smaller until his hand rested warmly between Arthur’s shoulder blades. He let out a small sigh and returned to his own bed, where he laid awake for a long time.
By the morning Arthur seemed back to his cheerful self, whistling as he got ready for work and calling a laughing goodbye as Merlin zoomed out of the flat already running five minutes late.
As for Merlin -- he felt more confused than ever about the state of his friendship with Arthur, but the knowledge that Arthur wouldn’t be moving out cheered him considerably. On the ride to work, Merlin swayed bleary-eyed and considered. The first of the month was approaching and his breakfast celebration was the one item on the list that hadn't been addressed. He debated just getting up and doing it himself without waking Arthur, but he knew from the couple of months between Gwen moving out and Arthur moving in that it just wasn’t as fun by yourself. Apparently Arthur had never thought it was fun at all.
Merlin grimaced and decided that he’d better err toward caution. Yes, things were good with Arthur right now, but hadn’t actually signed the lease yet, and Merlin didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind.
Two nights later, for the first time since he had moved out on his own Merlin didn’t set his alarm early for the first of the month. Although it made him a bit sad to be giving up the tradition, he was also thankful that at least the first was a Sunday this month so he could enjoy proper lie in. Merlin sighed as he turned down the bed and crawled in. Maybe he could at least suggest going out to brunch if Arthur seemed up for it – hopefully his gratitude for not having to put up with Merlin’s ridiculousness would put him in a good mood.
Merlin woke the next morning to the front door shutting with a bang. He pulled his mobile from under his pillow and squinted at it. Half six. Where in the world had Arthur gone this early? Shouldn’t he be enjoying Merlin not bouncing into his room? Could be going for a run, Merlin thought vaguely as he slipped back into sleep.
Ten minutes later the door shut loudly for a second time. Merlin rolled onto his back and frowned at the ceiling. A moment later he heard muttering and the sound of pans being rattled around in the cabinet and pushed himself up on his elbows to hear better. He heard Arthur shut both the refrigerator and the cabinets a little harder than necessary, and the sound of pans banging on the hob.
Merlin crawled out of his bed -- making sure to grab his dressing gown and tie it carefully around his middle -- and ventured down the hall.
In the kitchen, Arthur was clearly cooking breakfast and looking more than a little pissed off about it. When he saw Merlin he glared from where he was tossing rashers into a frying pan.
“Oh, so you are alive,” Arthur said waspishly.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked, confused. The delicious scent of frying bacon curled into the air as Arthur tackled a can of beans with the can opener.
“You hadn’t even bought any of the supplies! I had to run to the shops. Did you forget? Or were you just not going to do it?”
Merlin could tell that Arthur was going for a teasing tone, but he overshot so far that he just sounded cross. And -- Merlin wasn’t sure, but maybe -- a little hurt? Either way, Merlin didn’t answer, his half-asleep brain racing to parse the situation. Arthur glanced over his shoulder. Merlin had no idea what his face was doing, but whatever Arthur saw there made his shoulders slump in defeat.
“You weren’t going to do it, were you?” he searched Merlin’s eyes then turned back to the hob, where he dumped the beans into a pot dejectedly and started the flame.
“I wasn’t, but Arthur –”
“I just don’t get it, Merlin,” Arthur interrupted, focusing his attention on slicing a small pile of mushrooms. “I don't understand what all this is about.”
Merlin stared at Arthur’s back for a moment then turned to grab the kettle and bring it to the sink.
“I have no idea what you’re on about, but either way I’m not caffeinated enough for this conversation,” Merlin muttered, a trickle of fear running down his spine. After he had filled the kettle and clicked it on, he ventured, “What what is about?"
“You,” Arthur said morosely, chopping the mushrooms and tossing the lot of them in with the rashers. He turned to face Merlin, leaning back against the worktop and crossing his arms. "I know you said you were trying to, I don't know, be on your best behaviour since the lease renewal was coming up, but I already told you I wanted to stay! So why are you still --"
Arthur let out a frustrated growl and ran a hand through his hair.
"I just don't understand what’s changed. It's almost like everything I --"
Arthur froze, his eyes glazing over slightly as they focussed on the wall behind Merlin's head. Then the color drained from his face. Merlin looked down at the table, gripping the back of one of the kitchen chairs to keep his hands steady.
"Fuck," Arthur whispered, his voice unsteady. "You found it, didn't you? That list?"
Merlin was silent, but he knew that was answer enough.
Arthur exhaled shakily and rubbed his hands over his face. “Christ. So that’s why you …”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin blurted. “I didn’t set out to snoop, but I saw my name and well. I’m sorry. I’ve been trying not to … do the things. Well, most of them.”
Arthur crossed his arms again and kept his eyes trained on the ground.
“Yeah,” his voice sounded utterly dejected. “I’m sure.”
A silence stretched between them and Merlin groped for the words that would make things okay again.
“I mean ... it’s okay, you know.”
Arthur’s head shot up and his hopeful eyes met Merlin’s.
“It is?” he asked uncertainly.
“Of course!” Merlin tried for a self-deprecating laugh. “I mean, I certainly don’t blame you for … you know. Feeling how you do.”
Arthur’s brow began to furrow.
“Feeling how I …?”
“I mean,” Merlin stumbled to clarify. “For being annoyed.”
Arthur stared at him as he had sprouted wings.
“Why would I --” Arthur interrupted himself to stare very hard at Merlin. “Merlin,” he said slowly. “What did you … what did you think that list was?”
“Well,” Merlin said. For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to use the word hate , even though Arthur had. “It was things you … well, that you dislike about me … right?”
A look of bewildered confusion overtook Arthur’s face, making Merlin feel suddenly wrong-footed. Before he could make another attempt at detangling the conversation, Arthur turned on his heel and marched to his room. Merlin sighed into the empty kitchen and gave the bacon a poke for lack of knowing what else to do.
It wasn’t long before Arthur was storming back into the kitchen. He pulled the spatula out of Merlin’s hand and shoved something else in it.
“Here,” he said brusquely, taking his place in front of the hob and turning off the burner under the frying pan. Merlin looked curiously at his back, but when Arthur didn’t turn around right away, he shifted his gaze to the objects in his hand.
One was the list, looking exactly as Merlin remembered. The other was a cheap pad of paper, folded open to a jagged quarter page. For a fleeting moment Merlin thought only of how Gwen was going to gloat when he told her that the word had been “like” after all, but then he read the disparate letters at the top of the page and his mouth went dry. He stared at the page in silence for a long moment before bringing a shaking hand up to match the torn page to its missing piece.
Things I love about Merlin
Merlin stared at the piece of paper unblinkingly. His mind spun, trying desperately to make sense of what was in front of him. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from the word “love” written in Arthur’s messy script.
Arthur … loved him?
Before his heart even dared to hope, his brain crashed in assuring Merlin that Arthur meant platonic, brotherly love. Merlin’s swallow sounded loud in the silence of the room and he let out a shaky laugh.
“Oh, well that’s --” The words died on his lips when he looked up to see that Arthur had crossed the room and was standing quite close with a decidedly unplatonic gleam in his eyes.
“Arthur?” he wasn’t exactly sure what question he was asking, but the answer was written all over Arthur’s face.
“Oh,” Merlin breathed in wonder, then Arthur’s lips crashed into his.
They kissed frantically for far too short a time before Arthur broke off breathlessly, gripping Merlin’s biceps too tightly.
“Sorry, sorry -- I mean -- Merlin? Do you--”
Merlin hauled him back in, hands twisted tightly into the front of his thin cotton shirt, and let the kiss answer Arthur’s stupid question. Arthur seemed content with this and let his hands slide down to rest on Merlin’s hips. Then Merlin started laughing. It had finally fully sunk in that Arthur didn’t hate him! Arthur loved him! The emotion was so overwhelming that he felt drunk with it.
“I thought -- Arthur , why did you even make that ridiculous list?”
Arthur, who had moved on to Merlin’s neck when he started laughing, broke off and let out a chuckle of his own.
“God,” he said, resting his forehead against Merlin’s shoulder. “I was drunk and trying to talk myself up to ask you out. Don’t you remember? You burst in and I had to scramble to hide it”
“Oh my god,” Merlin said, casting back in his mind and coming up with a memory of knocking on Arthur’s door only to be told frantically to wait a minute. “I thought you were wanking!”
“I mean, I did -- just not until you had gone to sleep.”
Merlin threw back his head and laughed again -- Arthur took the opportunity to return to his ministrations. He wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and lifted him onto the worktop, where Merlin used the height advantage to wrap his arms around Arthur’s neck and pull him in for another bruising kiss. Merlin scooted up to the edge of the worktop and dragged Arthur closer with his legs until he whimpered breathlessly into the kiss. His hands returned to Merlin’s waist where he fumbled with the tie of the dressing gown, finally losing patience when he couldn’t undo the knot.
“Off,” he growled between kisses, pushing the fabric open at Merlin’s chest and shoving it down over his shoulders. “This ridiculous thing.”
“Arthur, God,” Merlin breathed. He shimmied under the heat of Arthur’s touch until he could slip his arms out of the soft fabric, bearing his chest to Arthur as the fabric pooled around his waist. Arthur immediately attached his mouth to Merlin’s exposed collarbone, biting down lightly. Merlin’s fingers twisted into Arthur’s hair as he arched his back.
“Arthur can we -- oh, the beans.”
Arthur looked confused for a moment, the realization dawned on him and he whipped around to see the beans bubbling out of the pan and onto the hob. With a hissed shit he dashed across the kitchen, but Merlin’s magic beat him to it as he reached out to flick the flame off. Arthur smiled the half-smile he always did when Merlin did magic and it made something warm deep in Merlin’s belly.
“I think our breakfast is ruined,” Arthur said ruefully, poking at the burnt bottom of the pot. Merlin, feeling a bit self-conscious, laughed as he slid his arms back into the dressing gown and pulled it over his shoulders.
“That’s alright. I was going to see if you wanted to do brunch later anyway.”
“Yes, of course,” Arthur replied quickly. He looked uncertain, which just made Merlin roll his eyes. He gestured him back over to the worktop and when he was close enough, draped his arms over Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur looked relieved and moved closer to wrap his arms around Merlin’s waist.
“Hi,” he said, looking up with a soft smile.
“Hi yourself,” Merlin replied. He pulled his hands back to cup Arthur’s face, marveling that he was allowed to. “I’m sorry … I promise I’ve wanted this for a long time, but I’ve also spent the last two weeks thinking you secretly hated me and wanted to move out. My brain’s just going to need a moment to catch up.”
“Idiot,” Arthur said fondly. He twisted his head to press a kiss into Merlin’s palm. “How on earth could you think that I hate you?”
“How on earth do you love such weird things about me?” Merlin replied indignantly, reaching over to pluck the list from where it had been discarded on the worktop.
“The way he steals socks from my drawer when he runs out and thinks I don’t notice,” Merlin read, raising one eyebrow. In their time living together, Merlin had learned that it took a lot for Arthur to blush but he could already see pink creeping up his cheeks. Arthur groaned and buried his face in Merlin’s chest.
“It’s cute. What do you want,” came his muffled voice. Merlin just laughed and ruffled the hair at the back of his head.
“How did you even know? I thought I was being sneaky.”
Arthur raised his head.
“I have a rotation,” he said, his voice serious. “When you put them back in, you mess it up. Also, you fold them wrong.”
Merlin shook his head.
“You really are mental, aren’t you? Ta, by the way, for having that at the top of the list -- nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Arthur smirked in a way that told Merlin he absolutely wasn’t. Arthur released Merlin’s waist but stayed close, let his hands trail down to rest on Merlin’s thighs. Merlin scanned the list, trying not to let the warmth from Arthur’s hands distract him from his task.
“The way he does a voice for the cat and makes him talk to me,” he read, and Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Are you really going to read every single one of them out? I told you, I was drunk! I wasn’t exactly being sensible.”
“So you like the Kilgharrah voice?”
“Merlin, I laugh every time you do it, of course I like it! It’s hilarious. I feel like I’ve lost a friend the last couple of weeks, if I’m being honest,” Arthur said sincerely, just the hint of a twinkle in his eyes.
Merlin felt his ears flush with pleasure, but kept his eyes trained on the paper.
“Well, we’ve established that you have strong feelings about the first of the month celebration … I can tell from your cruel treatment of my dressing gown that you weren’t kidding about that,” his eyes skimmed down the list and he paused for a moment before reading, “His stupidly big ears.”
Arthur, who by now had accepted that this was an exercise that he was going to be put through before they could get back to snogging, raised his hands and pushed into his shaggy hair to cup his ears.
“I love your ears,” he said solemnly.
Merlin, who had likewise accepted that he was going to pink throughout this interrogation, sputtered.
“You called them stupidly big!”
“They are , and I love them,” Arthur replied, sliding his warm thumbs along the earlobes. “You’ll get your hair cut now, yeah? I miss them.”
Merlin made a non-commital noise, but he couldn’t stop the little smile that tugged at his lips.
“So you love my cold feet? And me talking to the plants?”
“I’ll admit the feet were any acquired taste,” Arthur said, his hands skimming down Merlin’s flanks and legs to pull behind his knees. Merlin obediently wrapped his legs around Arthur, pulling him even closer. “But I got used to having you touching me. I craved it, to be honest. And as for the plants, well. I suppose I should have just said that I liked having you in my room. It feels ... intimate.”
Arthur’s voice had been growing steadily lower and Merlin was leaning in as if hypnotised by his words. When he got close enough, Arthur captured his lips again. They kissed for a long moment, the soft noises of their mouths coming together the only sound in the room, until Merlin broke away feeling a bit dazed again. Arthur just smiled, his hands moving restlessly over Merlin’s thighs again.
Merlin took a final desperate look at the list and decided there was really nothing else he needed to question Arthur on later, except …
“You can feel my magic?” he asked, his face still near Arthur’s and his words barely a breath.
“Mmm,” Arthur hummed, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against Merlin’s. “I’ve always been able to feel it when you’re home.”
“What does it feel like?” Merlin murmured, leaning down to press kisses into Arthur’s neck.
“It feels … mmm … warm. Safe. Like a hug. Like home.”
“God, Arthur,” Merling breathed, and then they were kissing again. With a stuttered breath, Merlin reached out to touch Arthur with his magic deliberately for the first time. He could feel his magic licking up Arthur’s back, caressing and echoing the intensity of Arthur’s feelings back to him. With a desperate little gasp, Arthur broke out of their kiss and buried his face into Merlin’s neck. Merlin pressed his cheek into the side of Arthur’s head and ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You know what I think?” Merlin murmured close to Arthur’s ear.
“Mmm?” replied Arthur, sounding drunk on the intimacy.
“I think I need to make a list for you now.”
He could feel Arthur grin into his neck before pressing a kiss there and pulling back to face Merlin.
“Oh yeah? What would be on the list?”
Melin pretended to think, one hand stroking the side of Arthur’s face.
“Definitely how he leaves his trainers sprawled around the flat so that I’m always tripping over them.”
“Oh really?” Arthur said with raised eyebrows. “What else then?”
“He way he mashes teabags when he’s in a hurry.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “It tastes the same. I’m not fussy.”
“You’re an abomination.” Arthur just grinned.
“What else?”
“The way he keeps a plant watering spreadsheet. And apparently a sock rotation.”
“It’s just sensible! How else would --” Arthur protested, but Merlin cut him off.
“The way he purposefully hums Phantom songs in the morning just to get them stuck in my head all day.”
“I do no such thing,” Arthur said with a completely straight face, only his eyes giving him away.
“Shhh, this is my list,” Merlin scolded, letting his hands roam Arthur’s broad shoulders. Arthur fell quiet obediently and Merlin cocked his head to observe him.
“What a loyal friend he is,” Merlin said softly. Arthur opened his mouth as if to protest, but Merlin laid two fingers against his lips to silence him. “The way he takes care of all his employees, no matter what.”
Merlin removed his fingers and leaned in for a soft kiss.
“What a good man he is,” he whispered against Arthur’s lips. Their lips met again for a long, languid moment, and when Merlin pulled back Arthur’s face had gone completely fond, which just made Merlin kiss him again.
This kiss started out gentle and exploratory, and Merlin was completely swept up in how amazing it felt to have those lips that he’d admired so long against his own. He broke off a moment to trace a finger over that perfect lower lip, swollen and pink from their snogging, then dove back in with more heat this time.
Merlin was glad he was sitting down when Arthur’s tongue brushed against his for the first time, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin. As it was, he let out an embarrassing little whimper that only seemed to encourage Arthur to move closer, kiss deeper.
Some moments later, Arthur broke off and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s. He laughed a little breathlessly and asked, “Anything else on that list then?”
“Hmmm … how strong he is,” Merlin with a grin. He hooked his legs around Arthur’s waist and hitched his hips a little, hoping Arthur would get the hint. Luckily, he got it quickly and lifted Merlin off the worktop.
“Christ you’re heavy,” Arthur complained, taking an unsteady step backward.
“I did say strong,” Merlin laughed, tightening his arms around Arthur’s shoulders to support himself. “Mmm ... how close his bedroom is to the kitchen.”
Arthur laughed, causing Merlin to slip down a bit, but Arthur hitched him up and tilted his head up for a kiss.
“Shall we continue this conversation in there then?”
Merlin grinned.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
