lady_ragnell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lady_ragnell) wrote2010-08-25 04:48 pm
lady_ragnell) wrote2010-08-25 04:48 pm
Entry tags:
Flies With Honey, Flies With Vinegar
Title: Flies With Honey, Flies With Vinegar
Summary: When Arthur meets Merlin after several years, he discovers that while he thought his teasing was friendly, Merlin does not feel the same.
A/N: I had lots of fun writing this one. For this kinkme_merlin prompt: They went to school together, and Arthur used to tease Merlin a lot, but he didn't take it too seriously and thought of them as almost friends. Once they leave school, they don't see each other again.
Then one day they meet by chance, but when Arthur says hello, Merlin freaks out and runs away. It turns out he was terrified of Arthur and genuinely hurt by his insults.Cue massive guilt on Arthur's part and trying to make amends.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
“God, Emerson, could you be more useless?” Arthur grabs the lanky boy’s arm and hauls him off the floor while Gwen grabs his books before they fall out of his bag. “Can’t you stay on your feet for more than five seconds at a time?”
Merlin blushes and looks miserable, probably because everybody in the hallway is looking at his inspired moment of clumsiness. “I--I just. I tripped. There was something there.”
“Course there was,” says Arthur. “It was just invisible.”
“I’ve got to go,” Merlin replies, and grabs his bag out of Gwen’s hand and flees. Gwen shakes her head at Arthur and trots after him, picking up a paper he drops on the way..
Morgana shakes her head. “You ought to be nicer to Merlin, you know.”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “He knows it’s all in good fun.”
She looks at him for a second before wheeling around and walking towards the parking lot. “If you say so.”
*
Arthur is, in general, pretty happy with his life. He’s two years out of college, living in London and very glad to be out of Camelot, since his father practically owns the whole town, working in marketing in a company he got into on his own merits, and helping his friend Leon coach kids’ rugby at the weekend. He sees Morgana a few times a week, mostly when she drags him out to whatever unnervingly trendy club she’s heard about that week.
This week, it’s a gay club. Morgana takes him to them periodically. She says it’s because she supports him unconditionally, but he mostly thinks it’s because she’s one of those odd women who thinks it’s hot to see two men making out. He’s nursing a pint at a table in the corner while every woman in the place checks her out (because of course her dress is showing an absolutely indecent amount of skin) and she looks around as if she’s looking for someone.
As if she’s ... “Oh, Morgana, no, you aren’t trying to set me up with someone, are you? You know what happened the last time. He had a snake fetish!”
“Hush, you. I’m waiting for Gwen.”
“Wait, Gwen-Gwen?”
“Of course Gwen! What other one would I mean?” Morgana rolls her eyes at him. “She got married last month and he works in London, so they’re finally moving here, and he’s working tonight, so she’s meeting us here.”
Arthur is about to say something polite and pleased, but Morgana is up and waving frantically at Gwen, who comes over looking wonderful, all soft curls and dimples, and kisses Morgana on the cheek, which makes several women sulk. They exchange greetings.
It takes Arthur far longer than it should to realize that Gwen has a companion. A tall, skinny companion with a soft-looking t-shirt and jeans so tight they’re probably illegal in several countries. He has messy dark hair and cheekbones sharp enough to get cut on, and Arthur feels a sharp spike of arousal before he recognizes the ears and cuts across the girls’ conversation in his delight. “Holy shit, Merlin Emerson! How are you? It’s been ages!”
All three of them snap to look at him. The girls both look an odd combination of pained and nervous, and Merlin ... Merlin looks absolutely terrified, but he’s the first one to speak. “Arthur. Morgana, it’s lovely to see you and we’ll have to catch up, but I just promised Gwen I would stick around with her until she found you and I’m busy, so I’ve got to go now.”
“Merlin, wait--” Gwen calls, but he’s already disappeared into the crowd.
Arthur stares at the two of them. “What the hell,” he asks, “was that?”
*
“Emerson!” Arthur claps his hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder, and he jumps practically out of his socks. “Good lord, one would think that with those ears you would have heard me coming. What are you doing?”
“Revising.” Merlin’s voice is, as it always is, small and terrified. “Sorry, Arthur, but I’ve really got to ...”
“Nonsense,” says Arthur. “You’re always doing work, you could take five minutes off. If you don’t know it already, I can’t imagine you’ll figure it out before the test. I just want to know if you’re coming to Morgana’s do on Friday.”
“Oh. No. Morgana’s lovely, of course, but my mother doesn’t like me out late, even on the weekends. You know how it goes.”
No, Arthur doesn’t, since his father has Eyes Everywhere and knows what he’s up to whether or not he stays in on the weekends, but he keeps that to himself. “One of these weekends you ought to get out, Emerson, before you turn into an old man.”
Merlin turns pink, and Arthur wonders how someone that shy can possibly exist in the modern world without exploding.
*
“I’m sorry,” Morgana says to Gwen, which Arthur thinks is rich. “If I’d known you were thinking of bringing Merlin, I would have warned you that Arthur was coming. I just assumed you would have realized ...”
“No, no,” says Gwen, “I should have known that if you were going to go to ... this sort of club that Arthur would have--I mean, not that you’re homophobic, just the opposite, of course, but you know, Arthur would make a better impetus for--not that I’m assuming ...”
Gwen, Arthur remembers from secondary school, can go on like this indefinitely, so he cuts her off before she can continue to dig herself deeper. “I still don’t understand what’s going on.”
Morgana rolls her eyes. “Well, you can’t exactly blame Merlin for not wanting to see you.”
“I ... can’t?”
“You bullied him shamelessly, you can’t expect to be friends just like that,” says Gwen, wide eyes full of reproach, and Arthur instantly feels as if he’s kicked a puppy even while he tries to battle confusion. “Not that I think you’re a bad person, I know it’s just your way, but still, you were awfully cruel to him, and it’s no wonder he ran off like that.”
“I was ... what?” Arthur blinks. “I mean, I teased him, but that’s just what’s to be expected. We were mates of a sort.” The girls stare at him. “Weren’t we?”
“Arthur,” says Gwen, sounding poleaxed. “He was absolutely terrified of you. Thought you hated him. Thought you were a complete arse, really. I mean, you had to know he was sensitive about his ears, and you wouldn’t shut up about them, and calling him thick and clumsy and teasing him when he couldn’t afford to come out with us at nights ...”
Arthur does his best impression of a stunned codfish for a few seconds as several key assumptions about his latter years of secondary school reconfigure themselves and land facing a neat 180 degrees away from where he thought they’d been. “But I was just teasing!” he protests helplessly. “It wasn’t like I meant it! And it’s not like he didn’t dish it right ...” Arthur stops, because Merlin didn’t dish it right back. Once he had, when Arthur had been teasing him about his “girlfriend,” a new girl named Freya (who, it turned out, had been kicked out by her family and taken in by Merlin’s mother, so fair play to Merlin for stopping him), but other than that he’d just gone red and tried to ignore Arthur while Arthur treated him just as he might one of his other close acquaintances. “Shit, I’m an awful person, aren’t I?”
Gwen looks torn between sympathy and agreement, but Morgana just smirks and pats his hand. “Well, the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one.”
*
The new boy at Camelot Secondary makes a grand entrance by making it up the steps without a hitch, turning to wave at whoever dropped him off, and walking right into the doors, which pull instead of push. Arthur, lounging against the wall outside the building with Morgana and considering taking up smoking because he feels it would make his lounging look better, bursts out laughing when he flails and falls over. “You all right there, new kid? That’s got to smart.”
“I--I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m Arthur Penn, and I pretty much run things around here, just so you know.”
“Merlin Emerson,” offers the boy. “I’m going to take myself away from the scene of the accident now, before ...”
He’s smiling tentatively, and Arthur grins back, pleased. “Oh, don’t run away! I didn’t have you pegged for a coward.”
“I’ve got to go to the office,” says Merlin, turning pink, and for the first time, he turns and flees.
*
“Arthur, if you are waking me at ten in the morning to continue last night’s existential crisis, I will come to your flat, take down that rusty old sword from your wall, and beat you mercilessly about the head with it.”
Arthur rapidly invents another reason to be calling Morgana. “No. No, of course not. I--I wanted to let you know, I met this amazing bloke at the coffee shop this morning, and--”
“Bollocks. You woke up three minutes ago, and you haven’t put pants on yet let alone gone to the coffee shop because you spent those three minutes first of all remembering what happened last night, and then wondering why Merlin doesn’t worship your glorious self.”
“Well. Close. Most of that I did after I got back here last night, actually.”
“My God, you’re pathetic. What have you been doing for the past three minutes, then?”
“Wondering how to make it up to Merlin, actually. I feel sort of awful, thinking for all these years that we were sort of mates while all the while he was feeling well rid of me after we graduated. And if he’s in London, and Gwen’s in London, and you’re good friends with Gwen ... well, I don’t want anyone to have to choose between anyone else. So I’d like to make a fresh start with him.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Morgana sounds a bit surprised when she speaks. “That’s surprisingly mature of you, Arthur. Do you swear to me you aren’t trying to get into his pants?”
“I--do I--what?” Morgana cackles, and Arthur remembers how he looked at Merlin when he thought he was a stranger and decides that okay, she may have a point there. “Look, I can’t promise to keep my hands out of his pants forever, because I’m only human and he’s got a bit gorgeous, but that is not my immediate intention.”
“Very well. I’ll confer with Gwen later and see what can be done. Now go brush your teeth, I can almost smell your morning breath and it’s disgusting.”
Arthur does, and grumbles a bit to himself about Morgana knowing him far too well, but mostly he spends his morning thinking about what on earth he can do to make Merlin like him. An apology might be a good way to start, but Arthur is aware of his own failings and apologies have never exactly been his strong suit. He tries valiantly, but tends to end up getting defensive. So perhaps he ought to apologize by e-mail.
Morgana and Gwen seem to come to the same conclusion, because Morgana calls back that afternoon with Merlin’s e-mail address, a promise that Merlin will actually read the e-mail, and the stipulation that she read the apology before he sends it. Arthur says yes, and spends most of his Saturday evening typing and deleting drafts.
*
“London,” Arthur says with relish. “I’m going to uni in London. I’ve got my offers, and it’s looking good. Maybe it’s not Oxbridge, but it’s something, eh?”
Merlin is looking long-suffering and staring at his English composition, which he’s been doing throughout Arthur’s attempts to converse with him. “London. Cheers, Arthur, that’s great.”
“And where are you headed, Emerson? Been bloody closemouthed about it all.”
“Erm. Scotland.”
Arthur laughs. “God, Emerson, you would! As far away from civilization as you can get. Going to become the British Thoreau, are you? Wild man of the woods. Are you going to grow a beard? Get some robes, take after the other Merlin?”
“Something like that,” says Merlin, not looking at Arthur, and a second later he’s slammed his books shut and stuffed them in his bag and left the library.
*
This is the e-mail Arthur ends up sending:
Merlin-
I imagine you don’t much want to hear from me, and I can’t really blame you. After you left the other night, Gwen and Morgana gave me a bit of perspective on what things must have been like for you in school. I know this probably doesn’t help, but I never meant to be cruel to you. I was used to teasing with my other friends, and I suppose I thought that’s what I was doing with you. I apologize for making you unhappy and being insensitive.
I won’t ask that we be friends or that you forget everything I said or did. But Morgana is very dear to me, and I think Gwen is very dear to you, so it would be nice if we could start over somehow, if only for their sake. I promise I’ll try not to be a prat.
All my best,
Arthur
Morgana calls him an idiot, but she does so fondly, so Arthur supposes there are worse things. And all is well when she calls him the day after he sends the e-mail and says “We’re going out for coffee. All four of us. You’re on your best behavior, understood?”
Arthur dresses with care for what his brain insists upon calling the coffee date but isn’t entirely surprised when he shows up at the coffee shop to find Merlin sitting next to Gwen looking sullen in a hoody and jeans far baggier than the ones he’d been wearing at the club. Arthur marches up to the table and Morgana pats the seat next to her, diagonal to Merlin. He sits down, produces his most charming smile, and reaches across the table. “You must be Gwen’s friend. I’m Arthur Penn.”
The girls roll their eyes almost in unison, but it seems to be the right thing to say. Merlin’s tension eases almost imperceptibly. “Merlin Emerson. Morgana’s told me so much about you.”
“And I imagine none of it was good.” There, that was a neat way to acknowledge their situation. “I understand you’re new to the city?”
“Just down from Scotland,” Merlin admits. “Gwen’s husband’s firm needed someone new in Human Resources, and I’m doing some graduate classes nights, looking to become a social worker.”
Arthur wants to ask if that’s because of the wayward youths his mother was known for taking in back in Camelot, from Freya to the hellion Nimueh to little Mordred, but they’re supposed to be starting with a clean slate. “That’s amazing,” he says instead. Merlin unbends a bit more. “I’m just doing marketing. Nothing glorious, but I quite like it.”
“You would,” says Merlin with a roll of his eyes before freezing. “I mean, that sounds very interesting.”
The girls step in to rescue them then, but Arthur decides it’s a start.
*
They’re all a little bit stoned, because it turns out Merlin’s mother’s latest refugee knows how to get really good weed. Or maybe she grows it. Nimueh seems the sort to grow her own. But whatever, Arthur doesn’t care, because he’s decided that being stoned is the best thing since sliced bread and oh, now he’s quite hungry. “I’d like a sandwich,” he decides.
“Make your own, your Highness,” says Gwen, whose backyard they have all crashed in. She lives on the outskirts of town and her father’s working nights at the ironworks lately, so her place is the safest to do illegal things at.
“Don’t want to move.”
“Lazy git,” comments Merlin, who is actually hanging out with them for the first time in Arthur’s memory. He didn’t talk much until they’d smoked a bowl, but then, he never does talk too much unless he’s alone with Gwen. Or with his mother. Or with anyone but Arthur, really, but Arthur thinks maybe that’s because Merlin might like him a bit. Which is more than fine, really, and is actually quite flattering, because Arthur thinks he might like Merlin a bit too. Not that he would mention that sober, because he doesn’t particularly want his father to castrate him. “You’re a prat, Arthur Penn, did you know that?”
“‘m not,” says Arthur, without heat. “And you’re an idiot, Emerson. Jus’ so you know. And your ears are enormous.” He’s quite pleased with himself for making all those words come out.
Merlin goes silent after that, but Arthur doesn’t notice because the stars are so very lovely, and the girls are giggling about something, and it’s too much effort to keep up a conversation.
*
“Hey, Arthur!”
The words penetrate Arthur’s headphones and he stops jogging and tugs his earbuds out, turning around to find Merlin sitting on a park bench, cross-legged with a book propped open on his lap. Arthur can’t help the huge stupid grin that suffuses his face because he hadn’t even noticed Merlin, never notices anything when he’s out for a run in the park, so Merlin had to actually want to speak to him. “Hello, there. Lovely night,” he offers, getting his breath back.
“It is. I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone I know.”
“I go running here most evenings I’m free,” Arthur explains. “I was just heading back, but do you mind if I sit here with you for a few minutes?” He hesitates. “Uh, feel free to give an honest answer to that, as the girls aren’t around. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Merlin beams, the same sunny smile from school, only Arthur now realizes that he never had it directed at him, rarely even saw it when Merlin was around him, mostly only from afar or when he didn’t realize Arthur was about. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but I really am fine with you sitting down.” Arthur sits, and wracks his brains for anything to say. “Look, Arthur, I really don’t believe in holding grudges. You apologized.”
“I’m very glad. It’s just ... even then, I can’t exactly be your choice of companion.” Arthur winces at how awkward he sounds. Several ex-boyfriends have called him “charming.” He wishes they could see him now.
“You’re forgiven, okay? Yes, you made school a bit of a misery sometimes, but it means a lot that you didn’t actually know you were doing it. I should have called you on it anyway. My mother was always telling me I need to be more assertive.”
“I should have called myself on it,” Arthur corrects, because he may not be good at apologizing, but thanks to his father he is very good at blaming everything on himself. “I was far too old by that point to be acting like I was seconds away from pulling your pigtails or putting a spider in your lunchbox.”
“You did pull my ears a few times,” Merlin says, and Arthur winces. “Wait--pull my pigtails? You didn’t ...?”
Arthur hopes that he can write his red face off as being due to his vigorous run. “Yes, well,” he replies intelligently. No one would ever guess that he’d won a speech competition back in sixth form. “You were out and quite brave about it, and I wanted to be, so.”
“Funny,” says Merlin, and looks away, which only serves to highlight how closely he was staring at Arthur before. “That was the one thing you never teased me about.”
*
For once, Merlin is not studying during their mutual free period, but texting on his phone (forbidden on school grounds--Emerson, you dog!). “Who’s important enough for the great and illustrious Merlin to talk to when he could be revising?” Arthur asks in his most snotty tone of voice, because Merlin is even less easily distracted than usual, and it’s annoying. “Somebody got a new girlfriend, perhaps?”
“No.” Merlin turns red, and opens his mouth and shuts it again several times. Arthur prepares himself to mock Merlin for his inability to form coherent sentences when he speaks again. “New boyfriend, actually. Will.”
His shoulders are hunched, defensive, and Arthur has the sudden and inexplicable urge to give him overly hearty congratulations, because Camelot isn’t the most liberal of places and Arthur sure isn’t brave enough to admit he’s gay before leaving for uni. And then he realizes that this means that Merlin is gay, and that takes up all his concentration for a minute. “That’s ... that’s really great, Emerson,” he says after a bit too long, and hopes it sounds sincere.
Merlin gives him a startled look, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Arthur is all the more honored that he’s been trusted with this. “Thanks, Penn. That’s ... decent of you.”
*
Arthur had always been quite confident, but somehow Merlin has completely undone him, and it’s embarrassing. He leaves awkward pauses in conversations while Merlin is around while he double- and triple-checks his comments, making sure that he won’t say anything offensive. He learns how Merlin likes his coffee and can tell Merlin is surprised that Arthur no longer asks when it’s his turn to buy a round. He asks Merlin about work and classes and his mother’s latest waif. Increasingly, the girls have to shush them when they want to get catching up of their own in.
He keeps running into Merlin, and he suspects that Merlin is doing it on purpose, which baffles him. He never dares try to arrange a meeting for them, but Merlin shows up while he does his grocery shopping, when he’s finishing up his runs in the park, when he’s reading his paper in the coffee shop before work ... Arthur, thankful that Merlin seems to have gone mad and actually forgiven him, does his best to be extra entertaining and extra nice. Merlin lets this last about three weeks. “Stop treating me with kid gloves, Arthur,” he says after Arthur has resisted a golden opportunity to mock Merlin about a mistake at work. “We aren’t sixteen anymore, I’ve already forgiven you, and I’m not going to have a breakdown if you call me an idiot.”
“Sorry.”
“And for God’s sake, stop apologizing. If this were an actual clean slate, you wouldn’t be this nice to me, I’m pretty sure. I just want you to be yourself, Arthur, okay? Teasing and all. Being teased all the time wasn’t fun, but it is honestly frightening to have you acting like I’ll faint if you insult me. Call me an idiot.”
“What?”
“Call me an idiot.”
“You’re an idiot?”
“That’s a start.”
After that, things are a bit easier, although Arthur sometimes thinks he’ll explode, trying to keep the right balance of teasing and wondering what he’s allowed to tease about (ears? No. Fashion sense? Yes). It doesn’t help that the first time he mocks Merlin for his clumsiness in front of Morgana and Gwen, Morgana hits him with her menu and Gwen gives him her best disappointed expression. Merlin just beams and calls him an arse, though, and they both relax.
They even start to do things on their own, which Arthur hadn’t expected: they have the same taste in movies (though not in television. Merlin has an inexplicable love for Blackadder that Arthur does not share, and Merlin does not understand the genius of Torchwood), and they like the same bar, and the same sort of curry, so it seems natural to share all those experiences. Arthur finds his schoolboy crush on Merlin returning tenfold, but Merlin never even comes close to mentioning the word “date,” so he keeps his mouth shut.
One night, Merlin is drunk and giggly, and when Arthur tells him he’s a cheap date, he tilts his head to the side as he thinks. “Did you really have a crush on me, in school?”
“Well, yes,” says Arthur, and since he doesn’t know if Merlin’s the sort to forget what happens while he’s drunk, doesn’t say that the crush has returned.
Merlin smiles at him and pats his hand. “You’d think it would be the other way ‘round.”
*
Morgana throws a huge bash after graduation, of course. Most of their class and quite a bit of the class below them shows up, but Arthur doesn’t really feel like talking to a lot of them. He grabs a bottle of cider and goes to hide in the kitchen, where he runs into Merlin. “Cheers, Emerson,” he says, and sits on a counter. “We survived.”
“I suppose we did.” Merlin is drinking a glass of water. “Aren’t you supposed to be out there making out with Sophia?”
“She’ll try to drown me in the pool or something,” he says with a flap of his hand. “You may be an idiot, but at least you won’t try to murder me. Besides, the whole thing’s making me feel a bit blue. I mean, can you imagine? We won’t see most of these people again.”
“That’s true. At least a few will be in London with you--Morgana’s going there, and all.” Arthur nods. “I’m glad to be getting off for my adventure, though.”
“What, Emerson, you aren’t going to miss me?”
Merlin just laughs.
*
Merlin invites Arthur back to his place after dinner one night because he’s got a movie Arthur’s been wanting to see. Arthur jumps at the chance to see Merlin’s flat, which turns out to look just like he would expect--the bookshelves are pristine and organized, and everything else is a mess. “You need a maid, Emerson,” he calls into the kitchen while Merlin pours them a cuppa.
“Sorry, I didn’t clean this week. Toss anything that’s on the couch on the floor.” Arthur does so, and Merlin carries in their tea with exaggerated care and deliberately slops a bit of Arthur’s onto the coffee table. There are a few minutes of silence while he sets the film up and they both drink a few sips of tea. “Okay,” says Merlin at last, like he’s come to a very weighty decision. “I’ve been hesitant to mention, but just to be sure: you do sort of realize that we’re dating, right?”
Arthur spits out a mouthful of tea. “We’re--I--what? I hope you don’t think I’m trying to coerce you or something, because I promise that wasn’t my--”
“You’ve been around Gwen too much. I’ve been the one suggesting all our outings, remember? Honestly, I’ve been a bit afraid that I’m being pushy since you never suggest anything, but you always seem overjoyed to accept.”
“But I was awful to you!” Arthur protests, and then stops to wonder why he’s protesting.
“You were awful to me six years ago, Arthur. You certainly aren’t now. You’ve been ...” He grins like he has a private joke. “You’ve been rather wonderful, actually. So. Do you have any particular objections to dating?”
“What? No!”
“Oh, good. I can jump you then,” says Merlin, quite calmly given the circumstances, and then he’s grabbed Arthur by the collar and tugged him across the couch to snog the life out of him.
Five minutes later, they’re staggering to the bedroom, and Arthur is half-laughing. “God, Emerson, can’t you stay on your own two feet for more than five seconds at a time?”
Summary: When Arthur meets Merlin after several years, he discovers that while he thought his teasing was friendly, Merlin does not feel the same.
A/N: I had lots of fun writing this one. For this kinkme_merlin prompt: They went to school together, and Arthur used to tease Merlin a lot, but he didn't take it too seriously and thought of them as almost friends. Once they leave school, they don't see each other again.
Then one day they meet by chance, but when Arthur says hello, Merlin freaks out and runs away. It turns out he was terrified of Arthur and genuinely hurt by his insults.Cue massive guilt on Arthur's part and trying to make amends.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
“God, Emerson, could you be more useless?” Arthur grabs the lanky boy’s arm and hauls him off the floor while Gwen grabs his books before they fall out of his bag. “Can’t you stay on your feet for more than five seconds at a time?”
Merlin blushes and looks miserable, probably because everybody in the hallway is looking at his inspired moment of clumsiness. “I--I just. I tripped. There was something there.”
“Course there was,” says Arthur. “It was just invisible.”
“I’ve got to go,” Merlin replies, and grabs his bag out of Gwen’s hand and flees. Gwen shakes her head at Arthur and trots after him, picking up a paper he drops on the way..
Morgana shakes her head. “You ought to be nicer to Merlin, you know.”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “He knows it’s all in good fun.”
She looks at him for a second before wheeling around and walking towards the parking lot. “If you say so.”
*
Arthur is, in general, pretty happy with his life. He’s two years out of college, living in London and very glad to be out of Camelot, since his father practically owns the whole town, working in marketing in a company he got into on his own merits, and helping his friend Leon coach kids’ rugby at the weekend. He sees Morgana a few times a week, mostly when she drags him out to whatever unnervingly trendy club she’s heard about that week.
This week, it’s a gay club. Morgana takes him to them periodically. She says it’s because she supports him unconditionally, but he mostly thinks it’s because she’s one of those odd women who thinks it’s hot to see two men making out. He’s nursing a pint at a table in the corner while every woman in the place checks her out (because of course her dress is showing an absolutely indecent amount of skin) and she looks around as if she’s looking for someone.
As if she’s ... “Oh, Morgana, no, you aren’t trying to set me up with someone, are you? You know what happened the last time. He had a snake fetish!”
“Hush, you. I’m waiting for Gwen.”
“Wait, Gwen-Gwen?”
“Of course Gwen! What other one would I mean?” Morgana rolls her eyes at him. “She got married last month and he works in London, so they’re finally moving here, and he’s working tonight, so she’s meeting us here.”
Arthur is about to say something polite and pleased, but Morgana is up and waving frantically at Gwen, who comes over looking wonderful, all soft curls and dimples, and kisses Morgana on the cheek, which makes several women sulk. They exchange greetings.
It takes Arthur far longer than it should to realize that Gwen has a companion. A tall, skinny companion with a soft-looking t-shirt and jeans so tight they’re probably illegal in several countries. He has messy dark hair and cheekbones sharp enough to get cut on, and Arthur feels a sharp spike of arousal before he recognizes the ears and cuts across the girls’ conversation in his delight. “Holy shit, Merlin Emerson! How are you? It’s been ages!”
All three of them snap to look at him. The girls both look an odd combination of pained and nervous, and Merlin ... Merlin looks absolutely terrified, but he’s the first one to speak. “Arthur. Morgana, it’s lovely to see you and we’ll have to catch up, but I just promised Gwen I would stick around with her until she found you and I’m busy, so I’ve got to go now.”
“Merlin, wait--” Gwen calls, but he’s already disappeared into the crowd.
Arthur stares at the two of them. “What the hell,” he asks, “was that?”
*
“Emerson!” Arthur claps his hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder, and he jumps practically out of his socks. “Good lord, one would think that with those ears you would have heard me coming. What are you doing?”
“Revising.” Merlin’s voice is, as it always is, small and terrified. “Sorry, Arthur, but I’ve really got to ...”
“Nonsense,” says Arthur. “You’re always doing work, you could take five minutes off. If you don’t know it already, I can’t imagine you’ll figure it out before the test. I just want to know if you’re coming to Morgana’s do on Friday.”
“Oh. No. Morgana’s lovely, of course, but my mother doesn’t like me out late, even on the weekends. You know how it goes.”
No, Arthur doesn’t, since his father has Eyes Everywhere and knows what he’s up to whether or not he stays in on the weekends, but he keeps that to himself. “One of these weekends you ought to get out, Emerson, before you turn into an old man.”
Merlin turns pink, and Arthur wonders how someone that shy can possibly exist in the modern world without exploding.
*
“I’m sorry,” Morgana says to Gwen, which Arthur thinks is rich. “If I’d known you were thinking of bringing Merlin, I would have warned you that Arthur was coming. I just assumed you would have realized ...”
“No, no,” says Gwen, “I should have known that if you were going to go to ... this sort of club that Arthur would have--I mean, not that you’re homophobic, just the opposite, of course, but you know, Arthur would make a better impetus for--not that I’m assuming ...”
Gwen, Arthur remembers from secondary school, can go on like this indefinitely, so he cuts her off before she can continue to dig herself deeper. “I still don’t understand what’s going on.”
Morgana rolls her eyes. “Well, you can’t exactly blame Merlin for not wanting to see you.”
“I ... can’t?”
“You bullied him shamelessly, you can’t expect to be friends just like that,” says Gwen, wide eyes full of reproach, and Arthur instantly feels as if he’s kicked a puppy even while he tries to battle confusion. “Not that I think you’re a bad person, I know it’s just your way, but still, you were awfully cruel to him, and it’s no wonder he ran off like that.”
“I was ... what?” Arthur blinks. “I mean, I teased him, but that’s just what’s to be expected. We were mates of a sort.” The girls stare at him. “Weren’t we?”
“Arthur,” says Gwen, sounding poleaxed. “He was absolutely terrified of you. Thought you hated him. Thought you were a complete arse, really. I mean, you had to know he was sensitive about his ears, and you wouldn’t shut up about them, and calling him thick and clumsy and teasing him when he couldn’t afford to come out with us at nights ...”
Arthur does his best impression of a stunned codfish for a few seconds as several key assumptions about his latter years of secondary school reconfigure themselves and land facing a neat 180 degrees away from where he thought they’d been. “But I was just teasing!” he protests helplessly. “It wasn’t like I meant it! And it’s not like he didn’t dish it right ...” Arthur stops, because Merlin didn’t dish it right back. Once he had, when Arthur had been teasing him about his “girlfriend,” a new girl named Freya (who, it turned out, had been kicked out by her family and taken in by Merlin’s mother, so fair play to Merlin for stopping him), but other than that he’d just gone red and tried to ignore Arthur while Arthur treated him just as he might one of his other close acquaintances. “Shit, I’m an awful person, aren’t I?”
Gwen looks torn between sympathy and agreement, but Morgana just smirks and pats his hand. “Well, the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one.”
*
The new boy at Camelot Secondary makes a grand entrance by making it up the steps without a hitch, turning to wave at whoever dropped him off, and walking right into the doors, which pull instead of push. Arthur, lounging against the wall outside the building with Morgana and considering taking up smoking because he feels it would make his lounging look better, bursts out laughing when he flails and falls over. “You all right there, new kid? That’s got to smart.”
“I--I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m Arthur Penn, and I pretty much run things around here, just so you know.”
“Merlin Emerson,” offers the boy. “I’m going to take myself away from the scene of the accident now, before ...”
He’s smiling tentatively, and Arthur grins back, pleased. “Oh, don’t run away! I didn’t have you pegged for a coward.”
“I’ve got to go to the office,” says Merlin, turning pink, and for the first time, he turns and flees.
*
“Arthur, if you are waking me at ten in the morning to continue last night’s existential crisis, I will come to your flat, take down that rusty old sword from your wall, and beat you mercilessly about the head with it.”
Arthur rapidly invents another reason to be calling Morgana. “No. No, of course not. I--I wanted to let you know, I met this amazing bloke at the coffee shop this morning, and--”
“Bollocks. You woke up three minutes ago, and you haven’t put pants on yet let alone gone to the coffee shop because you spent those three minutes first of all remembering what happened last night, and then wondering why Merlin doesn’t worship your glorious self.”
“Well. Close. Most of that I did after I got back here last night, actually.”
“My God, you’re pathetic. What have you been doing for the past three minutes, then?”
“Wondering how to make it up to Merlin, actually. I feel sort of awful, thinking for all these years that we were sort of mates while all the while he was feeling well rid of me after we graduated. And if he’s in London, and Gwen’s in London, and you’re good friends with Gwen ... well, I don’t want anyone to have to choose between anyone else. So I’d like to make a fresh start with him.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Morgana sounds a bit surprised when she speaks. “That’s surprisingly mature of you, Arthur. Do you swear to me you aren’t trying to get into his pants?”
“I--do I--what?” Morgana cackles, and Arthur remembers how he looked at Merlin when he thought he was a stranger and decides that okay, she may have a point there. “Look, I can’t promise to keep my hands out of his pants forever, because I’m only human and he’s got a bit gorgeous, but that is not my immediate intention.”
“Very well. I’ll confer with Gwen later and see what can be done. Now go brush your teeth, I can almost smell your morning breath and it’s disgusting.”
Arthur does, and grumbles a bit to himself about Morgana knowing him far too well, but mostly he spends his morning thinking about what on earth he can do to make Merlin like him. An apology might be a good way to start, but Arthur is aware of his own failings and apologies have never exactly been his strong suit. He tries valiantly, but tends to end up getting defensive. So perhaps he ought to apologize by e-mail.
Morgana and Gwen seem to come to the same conclusion, because Morgana calls back that afternoon with Merlin’s e-mail address, a promise that Merlin will actually read the e-mail, and the stipulation that she read the apology before he sends it. Arthur says yes, and spends most of his Saturday evening typing and deleting drafts.
*
“London,” Arthur says with relish. “I’m going to uni in London. I’ve got my offers, and it’s looking good. Maybe it’s not Oxbridge, but it’s something, eh?”
Merlin is looking long-suffering and staring at his English composition, which he’s been doing throughout Arthur’s attempts to converse with him. “London. Cheers, Arthur, that’s great.”
“And where are you headed, Emerson? Been bloody closemouthed about it all.”
“Erm. Scotland.”
Arthur laughs. “God, Emerson, you would! As far away from civilization as you can get. Going to become the British Thoreau, are you? Wild man of the woods. Are you going to grow a beard? Get some robes, take after the other Merlin?”
“Something like that,” says Merlin, not looking at Arthur, and a second later he’s slammed his books shut and stuffed them in his bag and left the library.
*
This is the e-mail Arthur ends up sending:
Merlin-
I imagine you don’t much want to hear from me, and I can’t really blame you. After you left the other night, Gwen and Morgana gave me a bit of perspective on what things must have been like for you in school. I know this probably doesn’t help, but I never meant to be cruel to you. I was used to teasing with my other friends, and I suppose I thought that’s what I was doing with you. I apologize for making you unhappy and being insensitive.
I won’t ask that we be friends or that you forget everything I said or did. But Morgana is very dear to me, and I think Gwen is very dear to you, so it would be nice if we could start over somehow, if only for their sake. I promise I’ll try not to be a prat.
All my best,
Arthur
Morgana calls him an idiot, but she does so fondly, so Arthur supposes there are worse things. And all is well when she calls him the day after he sends the e-mail and says “We’re going out for coffee. All four of us. You’re on your best behavior, understood?”
Arthur dresses with care for what his brain insists upon calling the coffee date but isn’t entirely surprised when he shows up at the coffee shop to find Merlin sitting next to Gwen looking sullen in a hoody and jeans far baggier than the ones he’d been wearing at the club. Arthur marches up to the table and Morgana pats the seat next to her, diagonal to Merlin. He sits down, produces his most charming smile, and reaches across the table. “You must be Gwen’s friend. I’m Arthur Penn.”
The girls roll their eyes almost in unison, but it seems to be the right thing to say. Merlin’s tension eases almost imperceptibly. “Merlin Emerson. Morgana’s told me so much about you.”
“And I imagine none of it was good.” There, that was a neat way to acknowledge their situation. “I understand you’re new to the city?”
“Just down from Scotland,” Merlin admits. “Gwen’s husband’s firm needed someone new in Human Resources, and I’m doing some graduate classes nights, looking to become a social worker.”
Arthur wants to ask if that’s because of the wayward youths his mother was known for taking in back in Camelot, from Freya to the hellion Nimueh to little Mordred, but they’re supposed to be starting with a clean slate. “That’s amazing,” he says instead. Merlin unbends a bit more. “I’m just doing marketing. Nothing glorious, but I quite like it.”
“You would,” says Merlin with a roll of his eyes before freezing. “I mean, that sounds very interesting.”
The girls step in to rescue them then, but Arthur decides it’s a start.
*
They’re all a little bit stoned, because it turns out Merlin’s mother’s latest refugee knows how to get really good weed. Or maybe she grows it. Nimueh seems the sort to grow her own. But whatever, Arthur doesn’t care, because he’s decided that being stoned is the best thing since sliced bread and oh, now he’s quite hungry. “I’d like a sandwich,” he decides.
“Make your own, your Highness,” says Gwen, whose backyard they have all crashed in. She lives on the outskirts of town and her father’s working nights at the ironworks lately, so her place is the safest to do illegal things at.
“Don’t want to move.”
“Lazy git,” comments Merlin, who is actually hanging out with them for the first time in Arthur’s memory. He didn’t talk much until they’d smoked a bowl, but then, he never does talk too much unless he’s alone with Gwen. Or with his mother. Or with anyone but Arthur, really, but Arthur thinks maybe that’s because Merlin might like him a bit. Which is more than fine, really, and is actually quite flattering, because Arthur thinks he might like Merlin a bit too. Not that he would mention that sober, because he doesn’t particularly want his father to castrate him. “You’re a prat, Arthur Penn, did you know that?”
“‘m not,” says Arthur, without heat. “And you’re an idiot, Emerson. Jus’ so you know. And your ears are enormous.” He’s quite pleased with himself for making all those words come out.
Merlin goes silent after that, but Arthur doesn’t notice because the stars are so very lovely, and the girls are giggling about something, and it’s too much effort to keep up a conversation.
*
“Hey, Arthur!”
The words penetrate Arthur’s headphones and he stops jogging and tugs his earbuds out, turning around to find Merlin sitting on a park bench, cross-legged with a book propped open on his lap. Arthur can’t help the huge stupid grin that suffuses his face because he hadn’t even noticed Merlin, never notices anything when he’s out for a run in the park, so Merlin had to actually want to speak to him. “Hello, there. Lovely night,” he offers, getting his breath back.
“It is. I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone I know.”
“I go running here most evenings I’m free,” Arthur explains. “I was just heading back, but do you mind if I sit here with you for a few minutes?” He hesitates. “Uh, feel free to give an honest answer to that, as the girls aren’t around. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Merlin beams, the same sunny smile from school, only Arthur now realizes that he never had it directed at him, rarely even saw it when Merlin was around him, mostly only from afar or when he didn’t realize Arthur was about. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but I really am fine with you sitting down.” Arthur sits, and wracks his brains for anything to say. “Look, Arthur, I really don’t believe in holding grudges. You apologized.”
“I’m very glad. It’s just ... even then, I can’t exactly be your choice of companion.” Arthur winces at how awkward he sounds. Several ex-boyfriends have called him “charming.” He wishes they could see him now.
“You’re forgiven, okay? Yes, you made school a bit of a misery sometimes, but it means a lot that you didn’t actually know you were doing it. I should have called you on it anyway. My mother was always telling me I need to be more assertive.”
“I should have called myself on it,” Arthur corrects, because he may not be good at apologizing, but thanks to his father he is very good at blaming everything on himself. “I was far too old by that point to be acting like I was seconds away from pulling your pigtails or putting a spider in your lunchbox.”
“You did pull my ears a few times,” Merlin says, and Arthur winces. “Wait--pull my pigtails? You didn’t ...?”
Arthur hopes that he can write his red face off as being due to his vigorous run. “Yes, well,” he replies intelligently. No one would ever guess that he’d won a speech competition back in sixth form. “You were out and quite brave about it, and I wanted to be, so.”
“Funny,” says Merlin, and looks away, which only serves to highlight how closely he was staring at Arthur before. “That was the one thing you never teased me about.”
*
For once, Merlin is not studying during their mutual free period, but texting on his phone (forbidden on school grounds--Emerson, you dog!). “Who’s important enough for the great and illustrious Merlin to talk to when he could be revising?” Arthur asks in his most snotty tone of voice, because Merlin is even less easily distracted than usual, and it’s annoying. “Somebody got a new girlfriend, perhaps?”
“No.” Merlin turns red, and opens his mouth and shuts it again several times. Arthur prepares himself to mock Merlin for his inability to form coherent sentences when he speaks again. “New boyfriend, actually. Will.”
His shoulders are hunched, defensive, and Arthur has the sudden and inexplicable urge to give him overly hearty congratulations, because Camelot isn’t the most liberal of places and Arthur sure isn’t brave enough to admit he’s gay before leaving for uni. And then he realizes that this means that Merlin is gay, and that takes up all his concentration for a minute. “That’s ... that’s really great, Emerson,” he says after a bit too long, and hopes it sounds sincere.
Merlin gives him a startled look, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Arthur is all the more honored that he’s been trusted with this. “Thanks, Penn. That’s ... decent of you.”
*
Arthur had always been quite confident, but somehow Merlin has completely undone him, and it’s embarrassing. He leaves awkward pauses in conversations while Merlin is around while he double- and triple-checks his comments, making sure that he won’t say anything offensive. He learns how Merlin likes his coffee and can tell Merlin is surprised that Arthur no longer asks when it’s his turn to buy a round. He asks Merlin about work and classes and his mother’s latest waif. Increasingly, the girls have to shush them when they want to get catching up of their own in.
He keeps running into Merlin, and he suspects that Merlin is doing it on purpose, which baffles him. He never dares try to arrange a meeting for them, but Merlin shows up while he does his grocery shopping, when he’s finishing up his runs in the park, when he’s reading his paper in the coffee shop before work ... Arthur, thankful that Merlin seems to have gone mad and actually forgiven him, does his best to be extra entertaining and extra nice. Merlin lets this last about three weeks. “Stop treating me with kid gloves, Arthur,” he says after Arthur has resisted a golden opportunity to mock Merlin about a mistake at work. “We aren’t sixteen anymore, I’ve already forgiven you, and I’m not going to have a breakdown if you call me an idiot.”
“Sorry.”
“And for God’s sake, stop apologizing. If this were an actual clean slate, you wouldn’t be this nice to me, I’m pretty sure. I just want you to be yourself, Arthur, okay? Teasing and all. Being teased all the time wasn’t fun, but it is honestly frightening to have you acting like I’ll faint if you insult me. Call me an idiot.”
“What?”
“Call me an idiot.”
“You’re an idiot?”
“That’s a start.”
After that, things are a bit easier, although Arthur sometimes thinks he’ll explode, trying to keep the right balance of teasing and wondering what he’s allowed to tease about (ears? No. Fashion sense? Yes). It doesn’t help that the first time he mocks Merlin for his clumsiness in front of Morgana and Gwen, Morgana hits him with her menu and Gwen gives him her best disappointed expression. Merlin just beams and calls him an arse, though, and they both relax.
They even start to do things on their own, which Arthur hadn’t expected: they have the same taste in movies (though not in television. Merlin has an inexplicable love for Blackadder that Arthur does not share, and Merlin does not understand the genius of Torchwood), and they like the same bar, and the same sort of curry, so it seems natural to share all those experiences. Arthur finds his schoolboy crush on Merlin returning tenfold, but Merlin never even comes close to mentioning the word “date,” so he keeps his mouth shut.
One night, Merlin is drunk and giggly, and when Arthur tells him he’s a cheap date, he tilts his head to the side as he thinks. “Did you really have a crush on me, in school?”
“Well, yes,” says Arthur, and since he doesn’t know if Merlin’s the sort to forget what happens while he’s drunk, doesn’t say that the crush has returned.
Merlin smiles at him and pats his hand. “You’d think it would be the other way ‘round.”
*
Morgana throws a huge bash after graduation, of course. Most of their class and quite a bit of the class below them shows up, but Arthur doesn’t really feel like talking to a lot of them. He grabs a bottle of cider and goes to hide in the kitchen, where he runs into Merlin. “Cheers, Emerson,” he says, and sits on a counter. “We survived.”
“I suppose we did.” Merlin is drinking a glass of water. “Aren’t you supposed to be out there making out with Sophia?”
“She’ll try to drown me in the pool or something,” he says with a flap of his hand. “You may be an idiot, but at least you won’t try to murder me. Besides, the whole thing’s making me feel a bit blue. I mean, can you imagine? We won’t see most of these people again.”
“That’s true. At least a few will be in London with you--Morgana’s going there, and all.” Arthur nods. “I’m glad to be getting off for my adventure, though.”
“What, Emerson, you aren’t going to miss me?”
Merlin just laughs.
*
Merlin invites Arthur back to his place after dinner one night because he’s got a movie Arthur’s been wanting to see. Arthur jumps at the chance to see Merlin’s flat, which turns out to look just like he would expect--the bookshelves are pristine and organized, and everything else is a mess. “You need a maid, Emerson,” he calls into the kitchen while Merlin pours them a cuppa.
“Sorry, I didn’t clean this week. Toss anything that’s on the couch on the floor.” Arthur does so, and Merlin carries in their tea with exaggerated care and deliberately slops a bit of Arthur’s onto the coffee table. There are a few minutes of silence while he sets the film up and they both drink a few sips of tea. “Okay,” says Merlin at last, like he’s come to a very weighty decision. “I’ve been hesitant to mention, but just to be sure: you do sort of realize that we’re dating, right?”
Arthur spits out a mouthful of tea. “We’re--I--what? I hope you don’t think I’m trying to coerce you or something, because I promise that wasn’t my--”
“You’ve been around Gwen too much. I’ve been the one suggesting all our outings, remember? Honestly, I’ve been a bit afraid that I’m being pushy since you never suggest anything, but you always seem overjoyed to accept.”
“But I was awful to you!” Arthur protests, and then stops to wonder why he’s protesting.
“You were awful to me six years ago, Arthur. You certainly aren’t now. You’ve been ...” He grins like he has a private joke. “You’ve been rather wonderful, actually. So. Do you have any particular objections to dating?”
“What? No!”
“Oh, good. I can jump you then,” says Merlin, quite calmly given the circumstances, and then he’s grabbed Arthur by the collar and tugged him across the couch to snog the life out of him.
Five minutes later, they’re staggering to the bedroom, and Arthur is half-laughing. “God, Emerson, can’t you stay on your own two feet for more than five seconds at a time?”