I Owe You a Love Song

[lady_ragnell]

Title: I Owe You a Love Song
Wordcount: ~10,200
Warning: character spoiler for 4x11
Summary: In which Arthur's courting Gwen by mix CD (and other means) and Merlin is a backwards Cyrano de Bergerac who builds robots.
A/N: So I've had the idea for this fic for ages, and I decided to write it for the holiday season for all of you to enjoy. I should say that all musical artists who are mocked are mocked with love since all of them are in my music library. All music links go to YouTube (my internet, alas, is too slow to make a fanmix for all of you). Title from Shiny Toy Guns, "I Owe You a Love Song." Further notes at the end of the fic. Let me know if any of my links are borked, there were a lot of them!
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor do I own any of the music, videos, or webcomics used in this story.

The problem, Merlin discovers, with having secret stupid crushes he doesn’t tell his best friend about because she would coo and then encourage him to do something brave that would only end in his complete humiliation and heartbreak is that things like this happen.

“This” being the fact that upon entering Gwen’s room for their afternoon study session she thrusts a mix CD into his hands, says “Arthur Penn gave me this today,” and stands there twisting her hands together and looking like she expects him to say something enlightening when all he wants to do is go somewhere and beat his head against a wall.

“So, is it,” he starts, because he has to say something, and then grasps for some sort of explanation, “is he just splitting the difference between your birthday and Christmas because he’s two months off both of them or something?”

“No? Well, I don’t think so.” Merlin shuts the door behind him and drops his bag on the floor. They’re meant to be doing physics, but mix CDs are serious business and there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep his mind on his problem sets now. “He just walked up to me today when I came out of my tutorial and handed it to me and said he hopes I like it in a sort of significant tone of voice, and then he walked away again.”

Merlin looks at the CD and then at her, and then back to the CD, and then back to her, and then he finally turns it over and looks at the track listing before he ends up in an Old Spice commercial and because he needs something to do. He can feel his eyebrows shoot up. For one thing, it’s all decorated and there are proper liner notes and he hadn’t expected Arthur Penn of all people to know the Art of the Mix CD, but for another it’s … well, Arthur’s broken out both the Death Cab and the Coldplay, so obviously he’s pretty besotted. Considering he didn’t even know he and Gwen knew each other beyond Gwen being Morgana’s old roommate that’s a bit surprising. “He likes you!” he manages, because he has to say something. “Aren’t you meant to tell me things like that?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. It could just be a thank you CD, totally platonic—you make me platonic mixes! I mean, we barely speak and then I saved him from having coffee spilled on him last week and …” She trails off, apparently noticing the way Merlin is blinking at her. “Did I not tell you that?”

“No, you definitely didn’t. You saved him from possible death by coffee and he makes you this CD?”

“Yes, so it could just be a thank you.”

Merlin brandishes it at her. “He gave you ‘The Scientist,’ Gwen, are you kidding me? This is not platonic. This is him already plotting to introduce you to his very scary dad.”

“I’ve already met his very scary dad,” Gwen points out, and rightly so. “So have you, come to that.”

Merlin flaps a hand. “Beside the point. The point is that Arthur has just declared his incipient love for you, and you have to respond somehow.” And he has to be a supportive best mate no matter what she chooses, and then he can reward himself by going back to his room and whining to Gwaine, who will find some way to get them drunk. “I guess it depends on what you want. Do you …” He tries to think of a way to ask the necessary question without mentioning Lancelot at all, because he and Gwen have not talking about Lance and his sudden disappearance into the Peace Corps down to an art. “Do you want to date him?”

“I don’t know. I think I could like him, I just don’t know him well enough to know yet. But I think I could, and it isn’t as if I can wait forever for—”

“So you give him a chance,” Merlin interrupts. “Respond somehow.”

“Right. I definitely should. And he’s nice, a lot nicer than Morgana always complained.” Gwen twists her hands and looks at the CD Merlin is still holding. “But what should I do?”

Merlin finally manages to compartmentalize his disappointment properly and leads her over to sit down on her bed. “Well, you can find him and thank him, or e-mail him and thank him, and maybe ask him out on a date.” He looks down at the playlist again and can’t help smiling—other than his occasional forays into the saccharine, Arthur has surprisingly good taste in music. “Or you could make him a mix in return,” he offers, because that’s what he would do.

Gwen laughs. “Well, I can tell what you think I should do.” She bites her lip and looks over at her laptop, sitting on her desk with what looks like notes for one of her engineering courses open on the screen, then back at the CD again. “You don’t think it’s too much too soon?”

Merlin looks pointedly at the track listing on Arthur’s again. “Coldplay, Gwen. The only thing that would be too much too soon is Celine Dion. Come on, I’ll help you.”

“We’re meant to be studying,” Gwen points out, but she doesn’t actually object, and judging by how jittery she is she’s still more worried about the mix than about their physics work, since they don’t have anything due for the rest of the week anyway.

“But we’re very smart and Dr. Gaius loves us,” Merlin reminds her with his most winning smile, and when she sighs and relaxes he pulls her laptop over into her lap.

They spend most of the afternoon sprawled on Gwen’s bed putting the CD together. Merlin mostly relegates himself to the music choosing side of things, since Arthur will notice if there are two sets of handwriting on the track listing and Gwen has a tendency to go for Josh Groban and Michael Buble and he suspects Arthur won’t appreciate them given his choices on the mix. He does allow her on track from Josh Groban because it’s her mix after all (and because, while he may have a stupid infatuation with Arthur Penn he also thinks it would be really funny to see his face while he listens to Josh Groban—plus it’s a good test of his sincerity. If he’ll listen to Josh Groban for Gwen he’ll do anything for her). In the end, though, they end up with mostly cheerful non-romantic songs that Merlin’s given Gwen over the years and a few about being infatuated, and Merlin figures it will do the trick, since if Arthur knows how to send such a clear message with a mix he’ll know how to receive one as well.

“It’s funny that it’s mostly music you gave me,” Gwen says as he sets it to burn, doodling a star on the track listing.

Merlin shifts a bit guiltily. He knows he has a tendency to get forceful where mixes are concerned. “You don’t mind though, right? I mean, you like it all?”

“Yes, it’s just funny.” Gwen scrutinizes the paper and nods, satisfied. “The whole thing is so odd. I mean, I never thought Arthur Penn would be the type to—not that you have to be a certain type to make a mix CD, but he always seems like such a footballer, you know? Like he would have just asked me on a date.”

And he really doesn’t need to think about how unexpectedly sweet that is when Gwen is looking more comfortable with the idea of being with him every minute. “Well, he’s being a gentleman. I approve.” Merlin puts his arm around her shoulders and listens to the hum of her computer making the CD. “You deserve one, plus I get to live vicariously through you.”

Gwen knows him well enough to know when he’s feeling a bit melancholy, but at least she misinterprets the reason and leans against him. “Only until you find yourself a geeky music-loving soulmate who will inundate you with mixes.”

“Yeah, I guess,” says Merlin, and pops the CD out of her laptop as it finishes. “Now come on, I suppose we ought to study.”

*

Gwen’s name lights up his mobile display two days later, and Merlin struggles to keep walking, juggle his books, and answer at the same time. “I’m five minutes away, what’s going on?”

“Arthur Penn e-mailed me! I was starting to think he hadn’t got the mix or something, but he e-mailed, to my student account, I should have given him my number or something, shouldn’t I?”

Merlin manages to get his belongings settled and his feelings under control. “Maybe, but it isn’t like he couldn’t just get it off Morgana or something. What does the e-mail say? Did he ask for your number, or a date or something?” There’s a sheepish pause. “Didn’t you read it?”

“No, I just saw his name and the subject line and called you.”

“What’s the subject line?” Merlin asks, and can’t help smiling, because even though he wishes she were having her romance with anyone but Arthur, it’s really nice to hear Gwen sound flustered like this again.

“It’s not … romantic or anything, I just got stupidly nervous. ‘Your mix’ with a little smiley face after it, though. I should open it.”

“You could wait till I’m there,” he offers. “Living vicariously and all, remember?”

Gwen laughs. “Honestly, I think you’re more invested in this than I am. Come on, then, hurry up, before I lose my nerve, and tell me about your day in the meantime.”

Merlin obligingly natters on about the Robotics Club meeting he’s been at while he works his way between the rest of the rushing students, and how he’s sure to win the annual Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robot Battle come spring, and lets himself forget about the whole situation until he can start hearing Gwen’s giggles down the hallway of her building and not just over the phone, at which point he hangs up and just knocks on her door. “Freya out?” he asks when she opens it up. “I didn’t think she had class Thursday afternoons.”

“In the art studio,” Gwen explains, letting him in and shutting the door after him. “Now things are gearing up and she keeps muttering about the new model for her figure drawing class, so she’s said she won’t be here much until the end of the term. It’s half the reason here is better for studying than your room.” The other half, of course, being that Merlin and Gwaine’s room is something of a disaster area and Gwen twitches a bit every time she has to go in it.

“Before we study,” says Merlin with his best smile, “we should read that e-mail.” Gwen rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Come on, I want to see.”

Luckily, it doesn’t take more convincing than that, and he sits down next to Gwen on her bed and watches her open the e-mail. You’ve got great taste, Arthur’s written. Thank you so much for the mix (and ha ha on the Josh Groban, by the way), and I’m glad you liked mine too. It’s a nice way to get to know someone, isn’t it?

They both stare at the e-mail, puzzled. He didn’t ask for Gwen’s number, or ask her out, or give any other indication of moving things forward, but it’s not like it sounds like he’s done with her either. “How am I supposed to respond to that?” Gwen asks at last. “And he thought the Josh Groban was a joke!”

“Then tell him it wasn’t,” says Merlin, and keeps staring at the e-mail, feeling a bit miffed, because of course his stupid secret crush feels about mix CDs the same way he does and of course he’s going after Gwen instead. “And say that it’s nice getting to know him too, or flirt with him a bit, or something, and let him make the next move since he’s being confusing.”

“Flirt.” Gwen looks dubious. “How should I do that?” Merlin raises his eyebrows, since he’s pretty notorious for pulling by failing at flirting rather than doing it properly. “Well, it’s not like I don’t know how, but there isn’t really much there to work with, you know?”

Merlin tilts his head to the side to think for a few seconds, then leans over to take the laptop. “May I? I promise I won’t press send.” Gwen nods, propping her chin in his shoulder, and he thinks for a second about what he would say if Arthur were writing to him and he didn’t get embarrassingly bashful when talking to him before starting to type. Is that what you’re trying to do? I’d wondered. He adds a little winking face to that, since Arthur set the precedent, and presses enter a few times. And I’m glad you liked it, but the Josh Groban wasn’t a joke. Problem with that? “There,” he says, and hands it back to her.

“It isn’t very nice,” Gwen points out, but she’s smiling.

“He wasn’t very nice either, insulting your music. But it’s just what I would say, you can say whatever.”

Gwen smiles at him. “It’s not as if I’m thinking of anything better, though.” She hums and looks at the screen. Eventually, she just signs it with her name and presses send, burying her face in her hands for a second before peeking at Merlin, who’s just blinking because he’d really expected her to write something different. “I would have overthought it all otherwise, and if he is offended, well, I won’t be losing much, since we’ve only just begun. You don’t mind?”

He smiles even though he’s feeling like some backwards, large-eared version of Cyrano de Bergerac. “No. We’ll just have to wait for his response and see what comes of it.” He looks over to his bag, which he left by the door, half-hoping that it would magically disappear while he wasn’t looking at it. It is unfortunately still there, though, and undoubtedly filled with all the coursework he ought to be doing. “And in the meantime we ought to get some work done. Gwaine’s been smugger than usual about something lately, and it makes it really hard to study in my room. I think he’s got some sort of new girl he’s chasing after, or something.”

“Is this going to end with him pretending to be a hen party stripper again?”

“I’m torn between really hoping the answer is no and really hoping the answer is yes,” Merlin admits. “I didn’t get to take pictures last time and I want something to blackmail him with when he’s trying to blackmail me.”

“What does he blackmail you for?” Gwen asks, laughing, and Merlin just grins and goes to grab his bag instead of explaining that Gwaine’s been trying to get him to ask Arthur out, since Arthur is bi, after all. He hasn’t told him about the Gwen thing yet.

When Freya comes in, unusually grumpy and only giving them a tired smile before plugging in her headphones and starting to do something with a notebook and watercolors, they give up on working and eventually end up talking about the Arthur Penn Situation again, which leads to Gwen checking her e-mail. Sure enough, there’s a response from Arthur, this one with a file attached—a large one, if the time it takes downloading is any indication. “Read it,” says Merlin when Gwen seems inclined to just dither.

Not a problem at all, as it means you might like this, is all it says, and when they open up the attachment and play the file Arthur’s sent, it’s James Taylor.

Merlin swallows his jealousy and ignores Freya’s sharp look while Gwen presses her hand to her chest and looks a bit besotted for the first time. “Well, he’s smooth, at least,” he says, and starts thinking about what Gwen ought to send him in return.

*

The next day, Arthur drops his bag on the floor with a clatter and sits at the seat diagonal to Merlin’s at the library table he’s been studying at for the past hour. Merlin jumps and just barely manages not to flail backwards in his seat. “Um, hello,” he says when Arthur just raises his eyebrows and starts rummaging around for whatever book he wants to study.

“Hi,” says Arthur once he’s got what looks like a copy of the Canterbury Tales and several other intimidatingly large books stacked in front of him.

Since Arthur isn’t getting right to work, that probably means he wants to talk, so Merlin wracks his brain looking for anything to say. They’re the tricky sort of acquaintance, where they have too many mutual friends and are in each other’s company enough that they can’t really ignore each other, but where they haven’t spent enough time together to have a proper conversation.

Thankfully, Arthur speaks again before Merlin can say something stupid, which is generally what he ends up doing. “You’re good friends with Gwen, right?”

Merlin shouldn’t be disappointed that this is about Gwen, because of course it’s about Gwen. He’s disappointed anyway. “And you’re making her mixes,” he says because he might as well be honest, and if he gets information about Arthur’s intentions along the way so much the better. “I’m Merlin.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Yes, I know that. Morgana introduced us, remember?”

“Yes, right.”

It takes a second for Arthur to speak again. “So you know about the mix?”

Merlin manages to stop himself before he announces that he’s the one who put the return mix together (or wrote all the return e-mails so far, come to that), because that would probably make Arthur think less of Gwen and he definitely doesn’t want that no matter how infatuated he is. “I helped her with hers,” he says instead, since Gwen will insist on at least that much honesty.

Arthur nods slowly, looking down at his textbook for a minute before he answers. “Well, it was a good mix.”

Merlin hates small talk. He especially hates it with people he’s got crushes on who he definitely isn’t supposed to have crushes on, because he always blushes and stammers and comes off a bit simple. He also hates it because he has a tendency to blurt things out. “So is that why you came to sit with me?” he asks before realizing that wasn’t the nicest thing to say.

Arthur, instead of getting offended, just rolls his eyes. “It was here or the table next to you, and I thought that would be awkward.”

“Right, yeah.” Merlin goes back to reading his course notes, and Arthur opens one of his books, so he expects that’s the end of conversation for a while.

Of course it isn’t. “So you and Gwen are good friends, then?” Arthur asks about five minutes later, just as Merlin is starting to relax.

Merlin squints at him suspiciously. “I’m not going to give you information or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m not!” Merlin tilts his head. “Honestly, I’m not, really I’m just wondering if you’re going to tell me you’ll break my legs if I fuck with her or something.”

“You came down and sat with me,” Merlin feels the need to point out, and then looks at Arthur, and all his muscles (there are a lot of muscles. Maybe not as many muscles as his friend Percival, who is built like the love child of a tree and a professional wrestler, but still) and back at himself. “I don’t think I could break your legs,” he says finally. “I could maybe punch you? Or I could have one of my robots run into you repeatedly, but that would really just bruise your shins …”

Arthur, he realizes, is laughing. “Of course you build robots. I am not in the least bit surprised.”

“But anyway, not going to threaten to beat you up or anything. Gwen’s brother—you know Elyan, right? Anyway, Elyan will probably take care of that for me anyway.” He’d punched Lancelot, at least. Only once, but that’s because everyone likes Lancelot even when he’s being a self-sacrificing twat and trying to leave without saying goodbye.

Arthur just keeps laughing. “Good to know. I’ll try to get on his good side.” Before he can continue, his mobile goes, making other students in the library glare. He sighs when he sees the display. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this quickly.” He flips the phone open. “What’s going on?” He pauses. “In the library. Are you—yes? And she … seriously? Christ. Do you want me to come get you or something?” Another pause. “Yes, I can always study later. Just trying to get ahead on my paper.” Pause. “Okay, Ellie, I’ll see you in a bit.” He hangs up and makes a face at Merlin. “Sorry, seems I’ve got to go.”

“No, it’s fine. Is everything okay, though?”

“Yes, just a friend of mine has it bad for her political science TA and apparently just got acknowledged by her and made a fool of herself and now I have to come buy her hot chocolate and listen to her wail.” He packs all his books back up and stuffs them in his bag. “Anyway, good talking to you, hope to see you again soon,” he says, and sails out of the library with a wink and a wave.

It takes Merlin nearly two minutes to drag his thoughts back to the task at hand.

*

“E-mail from Arthur!” Gwen exclaims in the middle of one of their study sessions, and Merlin rolls over to look at her screen, glad to leave his chemistry reading for a few minutes.

This time, unusually, there’s no big file attached to the e-mail, another song for them to listen to and try to find something to respond with (a few times Merlin has had to give Gwen the right song first, so she could send it on) alongside a short message. They open the e-mail anyway. No song today, it says. I thought I would save some of my music for the future, and while I’m not close to running out I thought I might save some up for another CD sometime. Anyway, in place of that, a friend of mine found this today and I thought you might enjoy it: Parephenalia.

“This,” Merlin decides, “is the oddest courtship ever.” And it seems all the odder when he considers that it’s Arthur, who doesn’t really seem the sort for careful wooing, especially since it’s been a week and a half of multiple e-mails a day and he still hasn’t even asked for Gwen’s number.

“We should watch it,” says Gwen, and clicks on the link. They spend five minutes enjoying the sweet little film (though Merlin can’t begin to figure out if Arthur means anything more by it like he usually can with the songs, which are still romantic these days but have moved away from the saccharine) and then sit back and look at each other again. “What do you think I should say this time?” Gwen asks, bewildered again as she tends to be by what Arthur sends.

“That you liked the film, maybe that it’s nice to get something a little different through the e-mails. You could send him something like it in return?”

Gwen nods and shrugs at the same time. “That would be good, except I can’t really think of anything. Do you have any ideas?”

Merlin thinks for a few seconds and then takes the laptop (he feels a little more guilty every time he ends up being the one to answer Arthur’s requests, but Gwen asks for his help and he wants it to go well for her, and, shamefully, it also gives him an excuse for a few seconds to pretend that Arthur is writing to him). “Freya showed me something recently, not as happy, but the animation is pretty.”

“Show me, then,” says Gwen, and after they’ve watched it, gives her approval.

Your film was lovely—it’s good to get something different from you for all I like the music, Merlin types into an e-mail when Gwen indicates that he should. In the same spirit, here’s something my roommate found: Thought of You.

If it’s something different you want, Arthur’s written back the next time they take a break, you should have told me. I can find you all sorts of things. There’s a whole list of pickup lines a friend of mine swears by, for instance! Then, at the bottom, all lower-case, as if he’d typed it in a hurry: it’s always good to get anything from you at all no matter what it is, gwen.

And that makes Merlin feel awful, even if Gwen is asking him for help, because Arthur thinks he’s having a private correspondence with her, or at least that they’re her words, and he may like doing it but it isn’t really fair either. “I should probably stop helping now that you’re conversing without the music,” he says when Gwen looks at him expectantly.

“Oh, no!” He blinks at Gwen, who is suddenly clutching his arm. She lets him have some bloodflow back, looking a bit sheepish. “I mean, not yet? I still feel as if I’m just getting warmed up and used to doing things like this again, and it really does help to have you helping.”

“Okay.” Merlin manages a smile. “In that case, I’ve got the perfect thing to send back, if you don’t mind?”

“Go ahead.”

To the pick-up lines, I have only this to say: the words “rock you like a hurricane” had better not be used And I’m always glad to hear from you too, he ends up sending, while Gwen giggles over the comic.

The next time they break, when Freya comes in to meet up with them and go to get some dinner, Arthur’s written back again. Oh, thanks, now I’ll be stuck in those archives for the rest of the night and I’m meant to be writing a paper on the Wife of Bath. However, I have to say—even though I know you don’t take chemistry, this comic makes me think of you.

And of course Merlin is taking chemistry, but Gwen isn’t, so he doesn’t mention that part at all. Instead, he fires off one last quick e-mail before dinner without even consulting Gwen, since it can’t hurt anything: If you’ve been reading the archive, then you know that this is all you have to remember about the Canterbury Tales.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Freya asks softly when they fall behind Gwen as they walk into the cafeteria.

Merlin winces. “I really am trying to help Gwen, I promise.”

She bumps their shoulders together. “Just be careful with yourself, okay? Gwen isn’t the one I’m worried about right now, and Arthur Penn sure isn’t either.”

He doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he just smiles and goes to get in the line for food.

*

It’s really weird running into Arthur now, because he’s getting to know him well through the correspondence but Arthur isn’t getting to know him at all, at least except when Gwen makes him write that he’s the one who found something when he’s sending off the latest silly link or song or webcomic strip.

This time, it’s at Merlin’s favorite spot in the student union, a group of couches in an out-of-the-way corner with a good vantage point of the student café, and Arthur’s with a blonde girl who seems to be trying to hide behind a large textbook. “Everything all right?” Merlin asks when he sits down with his designs for Robotics Club (which he would be working on in his room except Gwaine’s mooning around over a girl and making a pretty obvious point of mooning, which is distracting) a table away from them.

“Ellie, this is Merlin, he’s a friend of Gwen’s. Merlin, this is Elena.” He raises his eyebrows in a significant way that Merlin completely fails to understand. “We’re on a stalking mission,” he explains in a totally normal tone, as if this is something they do often.

“We’re not stalking,” says Elena, although the way she goes sort of blotchy tells a different story. “We’re just … waiting.”

“Because her political science TA apparently gets a tea here every day,” says Arthur, grinning, and oh, that makes Elena the one who called him in the library. Merlin smiles and Arthur nods, which means yes, he’s got it at last. “And last time they saw each other outside the classroom Mithian actually said hello.” He fakes a swoon, hand to his forehead. Elena swats his arm, turning redder by the second. Arthur nudges her back. “I still think you should just wait a few months until you aren’t in her course anymore and then ask her out. I doubt she would say no.”

“You aren’t doing that, are you? I mean, you’ve got that weird … wooing thing, going on,” says Elena, and winces, probably when Arthur kicks her under the table, or maybe because she’s remembered that Arthur introduced Merlin as Gwen’s friend.

Merlin decides he’s just going to stay out of it, since he’s already pretty mortified at being around Arthur, who he’s got a terrible crush on still and is lying to awfully, and doesn’t need the whole situation brought to light when Arthur is concentrating quite nicely on someone else’s romantic crisis. “I’m just going to sit here and work on designing my robot,” he says, and curls up on his usual couch.

“You build robots?” Elena asks, and then suddenly she’s scrambling beside him on the couch, nearly sitting on his feet in the process. “That’s wonderful, what do they do?”

Robots are definitely safe ground, even if Arthur is snorting at them, so Merlin blathers on about his attempts—not that he’s trying to save the world with them or anything, since that always ends badly in the movies, but he does like having them do silly little things (eventually he will work out how to make one that ties shoes but right now all he’s managed is a hopeless tangle of shoelace and stuck gears)—while Elena eggs him on and Arthur stares idly at the students walking by, mouth tugged up in a smile.

“Sighting,” Arthur says about ten minutes later, and Elena falls off the couch with a yelp and a great crash, since she knocks a nearby chair over.

A second later, a supermodel in a white jacket pokes her head into their nook and looks around at them all, skating over Merlin and Arthur to look at Elena. “Are you all right, Elena?”

Elena blushes so hard Merlin worries a bit that she’s going to pass out or something. “Yes, fine, um. I do this a lot, actually. And this time—Merlin! Merlin made me laugh. He makes robots.” Merlin gives an awkward wave and thinks about offering Elena a hand up, but she seems disinclined to move so he can’t really do much.

The supermodel, who Merlin surmises is the TA they’re not-stalking, just gives a slow nod, the same one Gwen does when she’s just decided it’s best not to ask. “In that case, I’ll leave you to your … robots. Remember I’ve got office hours later if you need help with coursework.”

Elena just nods, and the TA gives one more look around at them all before nodding in return and sweeping out.

There’s a moment of silence before Elena lets out a mortified squeak and keels over on her back on the filthy floor. Merlin blinks down at her, but Arthur just groans and then stands up to pull her to her feet. “That was better than the last time,” he says, which makes Merlin wonder how bad it was before.

“I’m going to die alone,” says Elena, though she doesn’t seem particularly worried about it, and brushes herself off and comes back to sit next to Merlin. “So, show me how you design a robot.”

Merlin sneaks a look at Arthur, who interrupts himself smiling indulgently at Elena to give Merlin a quick nod, then goes back a few pages in his notebook to show Elena from the beginning.

A few hours later, he’s got next to nothing done, but he and Elena are fast friends and Arthur’s given up on acting aloof and is chatting with them about movies and books. Merlin’s late for ordering takeout with Gwaine, but he doesn’t mind too much (as is evidenced by the silly smile he can’t wipe off his face that Gwaine spends the whole night mocking him for).

When he goes to Gwen’s room to study the next day, she just raises her eyebrows and shoves her laptop over at him. “There’s a message for you in the latest e-mail from Arthur,” she says, and Merlin gapes at her for a second before scrambling to look at the message.

The first half of the message is the normal light chatter, without anything attached for once. The second half reads If you wouldn’t mind passing on a message to Merlin, let him know that he should sign his robots up for this. They need all the help with intelligence they can get, considering their creator.

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” says Gwen, putting her arm around him like she thinks he needs comfort, but Merlin can’t stop grinning. “Why would he do that?”

“He’s teasing,” Merlin says. “I saw him yesterday and a friend of his got to chatting about robots with me, is all.”

Gwen gives him a suspicious look, like she’s been doing more and more as he answers the bulk of Arthur’s e-mails, and he just squirms and looks back at her screen. Merlin says thank you, he types, and that he’ll be sure to coordinate his robots to make your life as difficult as possible when he’s the overlord of the robotic army taking over the world. Gwen only looks more confused, but takes the laptop back to finish the message, mostly on her own this time.

“Let’s study,” she says afterwards, still sounding unsure, and Merlin takes the excuse to pick up his textbook and bury his nose in it so she won’t see the expression on his face.

*

“He asked me out!” Gwen says when she sits down at lunch after nearly another fortnight of correspondence.

Merlin blinks up at her, first because that came out of nowhere and then because she definitely looks more panicked than pleased even though just last week she was starting to take over the e-mails properly most of the time (which Merlin is trying very hard not to feel disappointed about) and she seems to be giving Arthur a chance still. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Well, yes? I mean I think so. But I don’t feel as if I know him at all, yet, not really.”

“You don’t?” Gwen finally sits down and Merlin hands over his cookie, because this seems like a two-dessert problem. “You’ve been talking to him for more than a month, though, about all sorts of things.”

“No, Merlin.” She shakes her head. “You’ve been talking to him for more than a month. I’ve just been helping. So I guess the problem is that I’m afraid he doesn’t know me.”

Merlin tries not to squirm with guilt, even though she’s been asking him for help. “I really should have stopped after those first few, I guess. I was just having fun. But wouldn’t the date be so you could get to know each other better?”

“I suppose.” She eats his cookie before she even starts on her salad, which is definitely a sign of her distress. “I was thinking maybe I might ask if a group of us could meet up for dinner or something, so if we wind up having nothing to talk about after all there would at least be other people around. You, and maybe Freya and Gwaine, and some of Arthur’s friends—Elena, you’ve mentioned her a few times, right? It’s a pity Morgana’s studying in Paris this term, she would be a good buffer.”

Merlin can’t think of much he’d like to do less than go on Gwen’s date with Arthur Penn considering the fact that while he thinks Gwen is wonderful and deserves all the good things in the world that doesn’t stop his stupid crush on Arthur, but he probably owes her for taking over the courtship a bit. “Sure, we can have a group night of it, as long as you promise to talk to him some.” Gwen fidgets, just looking less sure instead of more. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“No, I … should. We’ve been saying that since the beginning, right? That I should give him a chance?” Merlin nods. “Then I’ll give him a chance.”

After that, Merlin lets her change the subject until they get back to her room to e-mail Arthur back, and Merlin lets Gwen stare at an empty reply screen for two minutes before he clears his throat. “I’ve got a comic you could attach, maybe? Message can be your own, but it would give you something to start with.”

“Please,” says Gwen.

I’d love to see you, she ends up sending, but I’d really like if we could have some friends along? Merlin, our roommates, things like that. It would take some pressure off, and keep me from ending up like this.

Absolutely, they get in return five minutes later. Whoever you want to bring, and I’ll invite some people as well. Maybe we can all go out to the pub or something Friday night?

That sounds lovely. We’ll be at the Rising Sun around eight, and if things go well we can work it out from there, Gwen sends while Merlin gets out his books so he can actually start studying, and then all they have to do is wait for two days until the date.

Somehow, their group ends up taking over half the pub when they get there. Gwen and Arthur sit next to each other, since it’s technically their date, and everyone else sprawls around and swaps positions and pretends that it isn’t the most awkward first date they’ve ever seen.

Merlin, surprisingly, has more fun than he’d expected. Despite the fact that Freya and Gwaine, who’d always been polite before, inexplicably refuse to even look at each other, even. Gwen’s brother and his boyfriend show up, since apparently Leon is a good friend of Arthur’s, and Percival takes to them immediately, as does Gwaine, and they all get to talking about football. Elena makes friends with Freya, complaining that they’re “outnumbered by the lads” even though she keeps stopping to tell them all they’ve got horrible taste in teams and hers is much better.

The only blot on the evening is the fact that after the first half hour, Arthur and Gwen seem to flounder every time they try to talk about anything. Merlin turns to them periodically to prompt conversation, since he’s nothing if not a good wingman (well, sort of. At least he tries, Gwaine always says, and usually follows it with a pat on the head), but it usually ends up with him chatting with Arthur instead, and Gwen drifting off to talk to Leon, who’s also doing engineering but is in the year above. They both keep trying, at least, and it isn’t as if they seem to dislike each other, but they just don’t have much to say, and Merlin feels more guilty by the minute for taking over so much of Gwen’s half of the conversation because maybe this would be a bit easier if she’d done it on her own. But then again, maybe the correspondence would have fizzled after a few days.

Merlin ends up walking Freya and Gwen back to their room sometime after midnight, an hour after Gwaine and Freya had a heated conversation Freya is now refusing to discuss and he left (probably for another pub, and that’s going to make Merlin’s Saturday morning extremely pleasant), all three of them quiet. “Well,” says Gwen at last, “that was … interesting.”

“And awkward,” says Merlin, instead of asking if she’s planning on trying again.

Freya nudges him gently and gives him one of the first smiles he’s seen out of her all night. “At least they all seemed nice,” she says, and Merlin hooks arms with both of them while they keep walking.

*

Merlin flees his room, where Gwaine is snoring like a bear after banging in at four in the morning muttering disgruntled things, and heads to Gwen’s as soon as he thinks she and Freya will both be awake. “I don’t want to take the chance on today being the first day I ever see Gwaine get a hangover,” he explains when Freya opens the door and just stares blankly at him for a few seconds, then winces when she scowls. “And are you ever planning to explain why you suddenly hate each other?”

“No,” she says, and lets him in.

“You’re just in time,” Gwen says when he gets in the door, waving from where she’s brushing her hair by the window. “Arthur sent me an e-mail last night and I haven’t had the courage to open it yet in case he’s telling me he suddenly hates me or something. Give me a second, I’ll read it to you now that you’re here.”

“No need,” says Merlin, flopping on her bed and grabbing her laptop. “You’re doing something, I’ll read it to you.”

“No,” Gwen starts, voice going a little shrill, and Merlin opens up her e-mail inbox, sees a familiar name, and stares.

Because there, right in the middle of Gwen’s inbox, in between an unread message from one of her professors and the new one from Arthur, there’s a read e-mail from Lance, and it looks from the subject line like it’s part of a conversation. “Gwen?” he asks, because Lance was (is, really) one of his best friends and he hasn’t heard word from him since he left, and he’d thought she would have mentioned if she’s hearing from him.

“He e-mailed me last week,” she says, putting down her hairbrush and coming to sit next to him. Freya makes a point of suddenly being occupied with her sketchbook and headphones. “And I was going to tell you about it, but I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“How is he?”

“Enjoying India, meeting interesting people and helping them.” Gwen sighs and he hands her the laptop back. “He says he’s sorry for leaving, he hasn’t had the courage to e-mail you yet and we had some things to work out between ourselves anyway.”

“I’m not mad,” says Merlin, because he isn’t, even if he’s a bit hurt. “At him, maybe a little. Did he say why he left?”

Gwen scowls down at her lap. “All that stupid stuff that we kept telling him doesn’t matter, about him not having the funds to go to uni yet and how he wants to do something worthwhile, and I deserve better. I set him straight about that first chance I got.”

“And now?” Merlin asks, because Gwen and Lance have always been perfect for each other in that quiet sort of way that nobody realizes runs deep until they get to know them better, and even if she does like Arthur and even if Lance is a continent away …

“I don’t know, really. He isn’t coming back yet, maybe not for another year or two, and he tells me every e-mail that I shouldn’t wait for him, but if we’re working things out … well, that’s not fair to Arthur, is it? Not that last night went very well for us. And even if we don’t work things out, it still really isn’t fair to Arthur.”

Merlin nods. “Maybe you should read his e-mail? It might help you make a few decisions.”

“Right.” Gwen clicks on Arthur’s e-mail.

Well, last night was awkward, wasn’t it? I’d hate to give up when our conversations through e-mail have been so good, though. I’d like to try again, if you’re willing. One bad date isn’t enough to give up on this, not in my mind at least, not when we seem to have so much in common.

And that must be the universe’s way of reminding Merlin that even if Gwen might not want Arthur, that doesn’t mean Arthur will automatically move on to Merlin, especially since he doesn’t know. He’s bisexual, which does up his chances, but if Arthur is this committed to the idea of dating Gwen he really can’t get his hopes up. “That’s very romantic,” he manages. “And he still wants to try, doesn’t he? He’s enjoying the e-mails, still.”

“Merlin,” says Gwen, slowly in that way that means she’s probably finally managed to figure him out, “he’s enjoying the e-mails that you send, you do realize that, right? He may think he likes me, but really, if we’re all being honest, you’re the one who’s been finding everything to send, and at least drafting most of the e-mails.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Even if it is the e-mails, I’ve been lying to him about it, and if you want to stop writing, that’s your business, but he doesn’t like me like that.”

Gwen leans her head on his shoulder. “Well, we’ve both made a royal cock-up of things, haven’t we? I can’t keep writing to Arthur if I’m working things out with Lance, it isn’t fair to him. And you should tell him that you’re the one he likes, really.” Merlin winces. “If you want to, that is.”

“I don’t really want him to beat me up or something for ruining his courtship.” Gwen starts to object and he just takes the laptop from her. “Here, I may as well do the breaking up since I’m half the reason it all got cocked up.”

As displeased as she looks, Gwen lets him do it without a fight, even though she and Freya telegraph disapproving looks across the room the whole time.

I’m sorry, I can’t keep doing this, Merlin sends. It’s definitely not anything you’ve done, but this isn’t going to work. I wish you all the best. He doesn’t bother signing Gwen’s name this time, and Gwen takes the laptop back and shuts it before he can start hovering wondering if there’s going to be a response.

They have five minutes of moping around and barely making conversation before Freya takes off her headphones and slams her sketchbook shut. “I think we could all use a movie marathon, don’t you?”

*

Because this is Merlin’s life, Arthur flags him down while he walks home after a tutorial three days later. Before Merlin can do more than briefly wonder if he could get away with pretending not to see or hear him, Arthur’s caught up with him and fallen into step. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks.

Merlin very carefully doesn’t look at him, though he knows his ears are probably giving him away. “About the Gwen thing?”

Arthur winces. “Yeah. I’ve tried e-mailing and all she’ll say is that she stands by what she said and there are reasons but some of them aren’t hers to tell, and I hate to go behind her back, but I’d really like to know if I’ve done anything wrong.”

“No, you really didn’t. Gwen—she’s had a complicated time of it, lately, and things weren’t quite as broken off with an ex-boyfriend as she thought they might be, and we—she thought it wasn’t fair to you, not really, to have to wait around while she sorts herself out.” Merlin keeps staring at his feet, even though he can tell by the way Arthur’s walking that he’s looking at him.

“Great.” Arthur snorts. “The old not-you-it’s-me thing? If I’d known there was someone else, I would have bowed out long ago. Is that why the other night was so awkward?”

“I’m really not the person you should be talking to about this,” tries Merlin.

“I know that, but the—would you stop?” Arthur catches his arm and swings him around so they’re face to face, a bit closer than Merlin is really comfortable with. “I’m not angry or anything, I’m just trying to figure it out. At the very least, we had some good conversations, similar interests, and I’d like to be friends.” He smiles. “With you as well, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you through all of this.”

“I’ll talk to her about it.”

Arthur squeezes his arm, which Merlin hadn’t even realized he was still holding. “I’d hope you can make your own decision about you, at least, and I’m not joking about that. At the very least Elena would never forgive me if you didn’t spend some time with us.”

“No, yeah, definitely. I meant talking to her about the other thing, you know?” Merlin shuts up before he really gets to babbling.

“Right, yes. Like I said, even if Gwen and I are better off as friends, I still want you around. Both of you, I mean.” Merlin is beginning to wonder if Arthur has forgotten he’s still holding Merlin’s arm, and if he realizes that they’re standing at the edge of a walkway with plenty of people walking by able to see them standing this close.

“Yes, I’m sure she’d be fine with that.”

“Are you?”

Merlin blinks. “What?”

“Are you fine with that?” Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Honestly, Merlin, I know this isn’t the most comfortable conversation either of us has ever had, but you look like you want to flee. Did I do something awful to Gwen after all?”

“No, just.” Merlin really would like to be friends with Arthur. After so long with near-constant contact (even if Arthur doesn’t know it was him), it would feel strange not to have him around at all. However, he knows if they do stay friends, and Gwen too, that Gwen is going to insist on telling the truth because it would inevitably come out either way, so he ends up blurting it out. “Look, you’re going to hate me. Us. Both of us, probably, and Gwen really doesn’t deserve it, she was just nervous and asked me for help, and—”

Arthur lets go of his arm just to cross his and look at him expectantly. “Do you plan to get around to your point eventually, Merlin, or should I keep waiting around for another ten minutes? It’s getting a bit chilly, you know.”

“I wrote most of the e-mails,” blurts Merlin, and then there’s silence while Arthur’s face goes completely, utterly blank. “She was nervous and never knew quite what to say, so I helped, and found links for her to send back to you, and this is why I said you would hate me.” He ducks his head. “I’m sorry, really, but it sort of got out of hand a bit and I was enjoying it so much and I think Gwen’s figured out by now that I like you but I really swear that wasn’t the reason.”

“And that’s why the other night was so awkward when I was trying to talk to Gwen? Because I’d never been talking to her at all?”

Merlin has no idea how to interpret Arthur’s tone, so he just shrugs helplessly. “Sometimes she would write the e-mails. And she always approved them, or helped, or … I really am sorry.”

Arthur just nods a few times, turns on his heel, and walks off.

After a few seconds where Merlin feels mortifyingly close to tears, he fumbles his mobile out of his pocket and calls Gwen. “I just told Arthur that I wrote the e-mails,” he manages when she picks up.

“Oh, sweetie. Go to my room, I’m just getting out of a meeting so I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

Freya isn’t in, so Merlin picks the lock (and sometime, perhaps when he graduates, he should tell people how easy it is to break in if you’ve got the right touch) and is slumped on Gwen’s bed when she comes in. “He hates me,” he says before she can do anything more than drop her bag. “And possibly you, I’m really sorry about that.”

She sits next to him and puts her arm around him. “And I really wish I’d known how much you like him before this all started. I never would have let it get this far otherwise. For all it’s worth, I think you two would be good for each other.”

“Maybe.” Merlin allows himself ten more seconds of cuddles before pulling away. “Now, tell me about your latest e-mail from Lance, you sounded happy this morning and I want to hear about things going well for someone.”

*

A week later, Merlin gets back to his room to find Gwaine with his eyebrows raised. “What’s the matter?” he asks, because Gwaine’s been interrogating him at intervals about Arthur (and Freya, which he continues to not explain) for the past week, but he hasn’t looked this smug before.

“So I had lunch with the football lads earlier, and Arthur gave me something to give to you.”

Merlin nearly trips over his own feet shutting the door and dropping all his things on the floor. “Wait, what? What did he give you? It’s not a restraining order or something, is it?”

Gwaine, instead of answering, picks up a jewel case and tosses it to him. Merlin just barely catches it and stares down. Instead of a track listing or liner notes or anything else, all it has on the front is a Post-it note that says Just listen in Arthur’s neat block print. He has it in his player and his headphones on before Gwaine’s even finished laughing.

By the end of the first song he’s got a grin on his face so wide and stupid that he knows he probably looks a bit simple, and by the end of the second he’s abandoned listening to hop back into his shoes and jacket and grab his keys. “Do you even know where he is?” Gwaine inquires, and Merlin pauses, because that is a flaw in his plan to go after Arthur and kiss him, since he’s beginning to suspect that isn’t going to be unwelcome.

“Um, no.”

“He happened to mention that he and Elena are studying in the student union this afternoon.” That makes Merlin balk, since even though the little study niche is secluded that doesn’t mean he can have a big romantic comedy moment there, especially not with Elena sitting there. But then again, he lied to Arthur for ages and maybe he can make a tit of himself for the sake of romance.

“Right, okay. If this is a joke and I come back with a black eye, then I’m going to tell Freya that you’re pining after her,” says Merlin, and slams out of the room.

He doesn’t quite run, but he definitely hurries and shoulders his way through streams of other students getting out of lectures while he goes. Luckily, the niche is empty of everyone except Arthur and Elena when he gets there, and they both look up when he walks in. “Are you okay, Merlin?” Elena asks when he just stands there, trying to bring his thoughts together because he’s thought a great deal about the kissing on his walk but hasn’t quite figured out what to say first.

“You got the mix, I take it?” asks Arthur, looking unfairly calm, and stands up while Elena makes a surprised noise.

“Well. I got the first two tracks and then I sort of ran off, but I’ll listen to the rest of it later.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and takes a few steps closer. “Well, if you had listened, as you should have, you would already know that while I’m still pissed that I was lied to for so long, I’m willing to let you make it up to me, since apparently it was you all along.”

Despite Arthur’s vaguely patronizing tone, Merlin decides that’s the closest to a dramatic romantic comedy cue that he’s going to get and closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck and kissing him. It takes a second to get adjusted, since Arthur was getting ready to say something else, and then it’s good, Arthur’s lips soft against his and his hands on Merlin’s back, pulling him closer. They pull apart when Elena’s pointed cough coincides with a whistle from someone passing by. “We could always listen to it together later,” says Merlin, looking down since he’s undoubtedly going bright red. “The first two tracks said plenty, though.”

“It took me a few days to find that first one,” Arthur agrees. He seems disinclined to stop touching Merlin, which means that Merlin is towed along next to him when he returns to the couch he was sitting on with Elena and deposited on the neighboring cushion. “You’ll like the rest, I think.”

“No Death Cab on this one?” Arthur elbows him and Merlin grins. “Or Coldplay?”

“You put Josh Groban on mine,” Arthur points out. “Or at least you allowed it.”

Elena clears her throat. “If you lads are quite finished?” Merlin jumps but Arthur doesn’t move from where he’s pressed against Merlin and Elena is smiling when they turn to look at her. “This is all very sweet, but we still are in public, you know. If you want, you can leave?”

“No, we can’t,” says Arthur, and Merlin tries not to let his face fall. Arthur notices anyway, of course, and turns back to him apologetically. “I promised Ellie I would sit with her in case Mithian comes by, she’s been stopping by and talking more often now that she knows we’re regulars here but Elena still gets nervous if she’s on her own.”

Elena whacks him in the arm. “Git, you don’t need to share my business all over the place. Just for that I’m kicking you out.”

“Right,” says Arthur, settling further into the couch. “Merlin, do you mind terribly? We were studying, but you don’t seem to have anything with you.”

He fishes his mobile out of his pocket. “I can keep myself occupied. You two keep on studying, and I’ll play stupid games on my phone.”

By the time Mithian arrives with an extra coffee for Elena, all three of them are hovering around Merlin’s screen shouting at Angry Birds, and even though he should be studying if he and Arthur aren’t snogging themselves stupid, Merlin has Arthur’s arm around his waist and he doesn’t regret a minute of it.

*

The second pub night with all their friends goes much better than the first.

For one thing, Arthur and Gwen seem to have much more to say each other when they aren’t trying to kindle a romance, and Gwen is much freer to chat with Elena, who she apparently knows from some clubs. Merlin sticks closer to Arthur, but also ends up in a twenty-minute debate with Leon on whether or not sentient robots would try to take over the world. Freya and Gwaine avoid each other’s eyes for the first half of the night, until Gwaine excuses himself to the loos and Freya disappears a few minutes later. Both of them are absent for almost half an hour, and when they come back they’re both pink-cheeked but much more inclined to be civil. Merlin exchanges looks with Gwen and decides they’ll have to talk about it later.

All of them who live in the halls end up walking back to campus in a mob, Merlin and Arthur holding hands and lagging a bit behind even though Gwaine turns around periodically to make fun of them for being soppy.

“Check your e-mail when you get back,” Arthur whispers after they kiss goodnight, and shoves him off with a light smack on the arse when Merlin starts to ask what’s in his e-mail.

Even though he’s inclined not to just because he’s discovering it’s best for everyone if Arthur doesn’t get everything he asks for, Merlin opens up his laptop and his e-mail the second he gets back to his room.

I kept trying to find an excuse to send this when I thought you were Gwen, Arthur apparently wrote at some point during the pub night (probably during Merlin’s robot argument), but it never seemed right. Probably I was meant to send it to you all along. It makes me think of you, at least.

Merlin grins at his screen, and doesn’t stop even when Gwaine rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at him.

THE END

Further Notes:

As you might have noticed, there are a bunch of stories going on in the background here (I call this my "Love Actually" fic). I plan to write some extras focusing on these background love affairs, if there's interest! So if you'd like Freya/Gwaine or Elena/Mithian or Gwen/Lance or even what Morgana's up to on her term in Paris (though I know less about that one) then let me know and I'll push that up the queue.

Happy holidays, everyone. Thank you for reading and writing and lurking and commenting and basically doing all the things you do to make fandom awesome. <3