Work Text:
Merlin wasn’t really sure how he was feeling about his day.
The thing that he was experiencing minor emotional trauma over- though to be honest it was becoming increasingly substantial- was the man who he’d just waved goodbye to from the lobby at the bottom of the block of flats he lived in.
Gwaine had been in his life for less than 48 hours and now, although phone numbers had been exchanged and Gwaine had said he would come back and neither of them particularly had any money-
Merlin slumped to the sticky lino floor and leaned back against the door.
He was used to the people around him moving. He was used to people glancing in out and of his life for a day or two at a time, or sometimes a few weeks, occasionally even longer. He was used to people leaving lasting impressions on him, used to his soul being a little bit battered and a little bit better with each person. Freya, Lancelot, Daegal. Some stayed for a while, some stayed forever.
Merlin wasn’t used to people making quite as profound and seemingly permanent an impact on him as Gwaine had done.
Gwaine had come into his life hair swinging and smile seven miles wide less than two days before, then had spent a night in the spare bed Merlin had decided to keep up permanently in a corner of his living room. He’d constructed it out of bean bags and a yoga mat when he’d first thrown it together for Leon to stay the night after he had helped Merlin build shelves all day; so many other people had stated overnight so frequently since that it was now an actual mattress with pillows and a pile of quilts.
Gwaine hadn’t spent much of the night in the spare bed. Merlin hadn’t spent much of the night in his own bed. Most of it had been spent sitting on the rug cornered by the sofa and the spare bed, talking and drinking orange squash out of mugs with cartoon pigs on them. They’d talked and talked until the moon started shining through the blinds onto their laps and they both realised how tired they were. Merlin had padded off to his bed with his fluffy orange socks thumping on the carpet wearing out from his routine every day; his mind was still whirring around and around with the sound of Gwaine’s laugh and his voice and the things he’d said about the world. They hadn’t laid the world to rights but Gwaine had laid politics out in pieces before him, explaining everything and the process and the contexts and the systems and the histories behind decisions and politics. He wasn’t interested on saying what politicians should and shouldn’t do, or what he would do if he was in charge, as Merlin and his friends often stayed up late doing.
It only took half an hour for Merlin to find out that Gwaine had a degree in politics.
“If you did a degree in politics, how come you aren’t arguing about all of this?”
Gwaine smiled and his hair shone in the light of Merlin’s £15 B&Q lamp. “I like arguing about politics because I take great joy out of it, but I don’t think I have anything to argue about with you when it comes to politics.”
Merlin smiled. “Want some marshmallows?”
“Marshmallows would be lovely.”
-
After he’d made his way up to the top of the stairs and slumped down by the door, Merlin stared at the side of his kitchen cupboard for approximately three minutes before he decide he didn’t want Gwaine out of his life for a moment more than was necessary. He scrambled to his feet and unlocked the door with fumbling fingers. He slammed it shut behind him and started jogging down the stairs, going so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet several times.
It was raining by the time he got outside; the water that poured onto his face as soon as he stepped out of the lobby shocked him into pausing as realisation of what he was doing sunk in just long enough for him to check his watch. If he ran, he should be able to get to the train station before Gwaine’s train left.
He ran along the pavement and got colder and wetter with every slap of his feet against the asphalt, shoes getting drenched from the puddles. His hair and his jumper started to stick to his skin.
He rounded a corner and saw him. “Gwaine!”
Gwaine was drenched too, rucksack sodden and the brim of his hood dripping onto his face. “Merlin!” his hood fell down as he ran and Merlin beamed at the sight of his face. “Merlin, Merlin, what are you doing out here? You’ll drown like that!”
“I couldn’t let you go.” Merlin said, teeth chattering. “I couldn’t just let you go, I-”
They reached each other and Merlin was enveloped in Gwaine’s arms. “I know.”
Merlin stared at Gwaine with wide eyes, panting. “The train station’s the other way.”
“You’re this way.” Gwaine said desperately. “You’re this way, Merlin, and I don’t think I want to catch that train.”
“Are you going to get the next one?”
“I don’t think I want to get a train out of here at all.” the rain was thick and heavy and dripping off Gwaine’s face. “Merlin, I-”
Gwaine kissed Merlin.
It was messy and wet and Merlin was shivering under Gwaine’s hands. Gwaine tasted of Merlin’s toothpaste and the jam they’d eaten that morning. When Gwaine pulled away, there were tears trickling down Merlin’s cheeks. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“You’re not, I promised you.” Gwaine stroked Merlin’s face. “Merlin, I think I'm going to fall in love with you.”
“I think I already have.”
Gwaine kissed him again and again; then they ran back to Merlin’s flat and the warm and dry to kiss some more.