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The streets where Uther passes are full of people and food stalls; sometimes he has to push people with one of his shoulders to not end up being carried away by the crowd. He wasn’t happy to have to walk, but since the hole where Merlin lives had no parking lot, the only way was to ask his driver to wait for him and then walk a few meters through the streets of Britannia.
Even though he is the mayor, nobody recognizes him; either because they are too busy with their screens and pads or because Uther is wearing clothes that hide his face very well.
Uther checks the device he is carrying to make sure he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long for him to find the supposed alley that leads straight to Merlin’s door—and frankly what a shitty place.
Arranging the sunglasses on his face Uther starts knocking. “Merlin, open the door!”
He hears a noise of something falling down, soon followed by a swear word. “Go away, I’m unavailable,” Merlin says angrily. “If it’s the guy who keeps telling me I owe him some data, I swear I’ll blow his brains out.”
“Merlin, it’s me, you idiot,” he says without patience, holding the bridge of his nose.
“Who?”
Uther does not have time for that, honestly, so he just searches for the digital door lock and connects his device, with some commands the door soon opens in a swoosh. “What—” Merlin speaks just before Uther enters and closes the door.
The place is complete chaos, not that Uther is surprised by it. The walls are more shelves than walls, stacked with thousands of books and datapads, and a layer of dust covers everything, signaling that the room hasn’t been cleaned for a while. Cables of all types run across the floor and Uther takes care not to trip over them. They connect to various monitors; the place is more illuminated by screens than by lamps. Uther wouldn’t even address the various food boxes scattered on any available surface, not to mention the various beverage bottles that fill the place as if they're a decoration.
Uther had tried at some point to convince Merlin to live in his penthouse—though he refused every time—after all, the man was like his counselor, to a degree.
Merlin emerges from a corridor with a gun in hand, a shaking aim that wouldn’t even hit Uther if he fired a shot.
Sighing in resignation, Uther lowers his hood and the mask, then takes his sunglasses off and tucks them in one of the pockets of his overcoat. He passes one hand through his hair to make sure it's tidy. “Drop the gun, Merlin,” he's already bored and arches his eyebrow as if to convey a point. “Don’t you recognize your boss’ voice?”
Merlin watches him for a while before lowering the gun then dropping it on the couch close to him. “I’m too drunk for this. I don’t even want to know how you found me.”
“Yes, we see,” Uther says, unimpressed. He looks for a place to sit, trying not to make a face at most of the options, but soon sees an armchair in a more pleasant state.
Sitting, he continues. “We need to talk to you.”
“Now?” Merlin asks indignantly, looking at his wristwatch, though it seems to take a while for him to identify the numbers. “It’s two o’clock in the morning, couldn’t you wait a few hours to see me?”
“No, we couldn’t.”
“Would you stop with the ‘we’ thing?” He asks exasperatedly. “I don’t have any entourage hidden in one of my rooms.” Merlin, to make a point, begins to open the doors that were visible in the room. “Do you see?”
Uther doesn’t humor him. “We want a resolution for the AI problem, Merlin.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but I need to sleep at night, especially until dawn.”
Uther laughs through his nose. “Do us a favor, Merlin, we know you were getting high.”
“Well, what I do outside of my work schedule is none of your business,” Merlin says, gesticulating with his hands to be more dramatic.
“It is when you’re not showing any results for us, Merlin,” Uther closes his fists on his lap to maintain a semblance of calm. “Those hoodlums are in possession of an AI that doesn’t concern them, we have to get it.”
“I’m working on it, Uther, you just have to be patient,” Merlin says seriously, almost out of character.
Like a coward, Uther looks away to observe the screensaver of one of the computers, the colors dancing in a mesmerizing way. Uther feels tired, extremely exhausted and without any will to deal with anything now, but Lunette’s mean words didn’t come out of his head and there was also Merlin with his constant presence in his mind, unattainable.
“Are you plotting against us, Merlin?” Uther asks, watching the neon pink line snake through the screen. “Because we swear by what is most sacred that if you’re planning something behind our back, you will regret it.”
The words barely come out of his mouth, suffocated in a way he couldn’t even begin to explain; he couldn’t take it anymore. The minutes only extend and Merlin remains silent, that makes Uther find the courage to look at him again.
He stood completely tense, though this is common for Merlin, and when Uther encounters his eyes it is like a severed connection returned from out of nowhere. “Plotting against you?” Merlin repeats in an exaggerated manner, making Uther tremble in disappointment; it was such a lie.
“I can’t say goodbye,” Uther chokes with words. “Not to you, Merlin.”
Merlin quickly approaches him, the silk robe flying around by the sudden movement and only then did Uther realize that the man was almost naked, except for his underwear.
“Wait a minute, Uther, I’m not doing anything against you, I’m really trying to find that damn AI,” Merlin says in what appears to be false desperation—or probably too much alcohol—holding Uther by his shoulders in a grip that makes him conscious of his bones. “For you.”
“I’m not a fool, Merlin,” Uther trembles tautly, the seatback not letting him get away from Merlin’s proximity. “I know you’re waiting for the perfect opportunity to leave me, like everyone else!”
Uther feels his cheeks burn in shame, the humiliation like bile crawling up his throat and hurting everything.
“Let me go,” he commands Merlin, who doesn’t obey him.
The expression on Merlin’s face is the worst possible, of utmost pity and Uther couldn’t stand that look that seemed to haunt him in his nightmares.
“You don’t want this,” he finally speaks softly.
“You don’t know what I want, Merlin,” Uther shouts clinging to Merlin’s arms in a fit of rage—all he could feel and do at the moment.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, Merlin laughs. “Yes, I do have an idea, Uther.”
Uther doesn’t answer and Merlin sees this as a cue to keep talking. “You only have a fantasy in your head about belonging, and I am unfortunately the closest person for you to imprint this feeling on.”
“Quiet.”
“I’ll never be able to give what you want, Uther,” Merlin says in an almost intimate whisper; it sounds like a caress and it makes rejection all the more painful.
Uther remains silent, watching the somewhat manic look on Merlin’s face. He tries to control turbulent emotions inside him. The situation is despicable and he hates himself so much for not being able to get out of it.
“I don’t mind,” Uther lies impassively as he looks at the almost imperceptible cybernetic wirings in Merlin’s eyes, glowing faintly with gold. “As long as you’re by my side, truthfully by my side.”
Merlin laughs, making Uther feel his breath against his face. “And you’re not even sure about this.”
“What? Are you challenging me?” Uther asks, infuriated. “You don’t want to test me, I won’t give you alternatives. You do what I want or you die, Merlin.”
“Big words for someone so small,” Merlin rebuts.
Uther opens his mouth, astonished. “Are you really serious?”
“I couldn’t resist,” he says, laughing for a moment just to drop his demeanor and get all earnest. “But believe me, I’m working for you alone. That AI will be yours.”
Uther relaxes minimally, absorbing those words which in his bitter state he knew were only to appease him and for some unfathomable reason it actually works; Merlin didn’t seem to be talking only about the AI.
“Do you promise?” Uther asks weakly, taking in every detail of Merlin’s face, searching for anything that would prove his brazen lies.
The answer he gets is horrible; Merlin leans slowly over Uther who can feel the abrasiveness of Merlin’s beard against his face. Uther frowns in pain, not physical but sentimental. Merlin at some point loses his balance and then Uther suddenly has the whole man on his lap, faces impossibly close.
“I promise, Uther,” Merlin says in his ear, the lie coming out easily.
It doesn’t take Merlin long to rub his lips on Uther’s face and it hurts so much when he finds his lips with a mockery of a kiss, not giving everything but also not stopping.
And it was Uther’s turn to back away, pushing the man off his lap and to the ground, earning his surprised shout. In seconds Uther gets back on his feet, donning all his attire again: hood, mask and sunglasses like armor. He is already telling himself that nothing happened.
“We want results till the end of the day, Merlin,” Uther says, looking down at Merlin where he sprawls, still bewildered. “Don’t let us down.”
Opening the door this time required no effort. The streets were the same, but Uther was not, for the burning in his eyes and throat.