Archive of Our Own

He could still remember the first time he met Arthur. It was the day he got a kick in the shin. Merlin believed it was a declaration of war. His mom, however, found it hilarious.

The kid was his uncle’s boss' son. The man needed to work abroad for a month with too short a notice and it was impossible to find anyone to look after the boy. Gaius offered himself, considering he was someone whom his boss trusted and could use some extra cash. It’s a deal.

Although the kid was only four years younger than him, he found the boy to be quite a pain in the arse—surely, every kid was—but Arthur was an extra, extra trouble. He required extra work, extra energy, extra attention. His uncle and his mom got a day job, and he was on a school break, so it was down to him to take care of the boy for at least half a day.

For some reason, Arthur always got himself in danger, like, half hanging out of their second floor window trying to offer a piece of sandwich to a pigeon on their neighbor’s roof, or using a fork to poke power sockets around the house, pretending he was a knight on a quest.

He was having the time of his life, the boy sure was, while Merlin ran around nervously, got nothing done, and got scolded by his mom at the end of the day for not getting anything done. He was pretty sure he had lost at least 10 percent of his hair by the end of that month. It was hell, and that was an understatement.

His mother had never believed him. Of course, The boy was an angel in front of her. He always said things like, “Yes, Mrs. Em”, “Thank you, Mrs. Em”, and “Sorry, Mrs. Em” like a little devil he was.

The only time he found the kid tolerable was when he was asleep. Hell, he just shut down like someone had pulled out his battery. In his sleep, The house would be a little more peaceful. Though the boy would kick a lot—frustrated with the heat building up in his sleep—and managed to pull his shirt off but not all the way. It usually stuck on his head.

First time Merlin found him he thought the boy was dead. Getting back from raking through the fridge for food, he found the boy on his bed, lying on his back, arms and legs pointing in different directions. The sheet was a mess. His red sweater wrapped around his head. He rushed in, thinking shit! shit! shit! while ripping the shirt off and shaking him, hard.

The boy grunted, annoyed and turned his head to muffled further into the pillow, pushing at him weakly. He looked at the boy again and realized he didn’t look anything like someone who had just died, and he fucking laugh in relief, resting his head on the boy chest because, bloody fuck, he almost peed himself. He felt the boy's heart thud fast on his forehead before it slowed down when he fell back to a deep sleep. Merlin breathed out, ‘fucking hell.’

That evening, while they were watching a cartoon about creep-ass talking trains, his uncle drove right into their trashcan at the front yard. The boy turned sharply and yelled, ‘Fucking hell!’

Merlin grabbed his arm and hissed. “Don’t use that word!”

“Which word?” Arthur pulled a bit and stopped when he found it useless.

“Don’t say fucking hell.”

“Fucking—”

He covered the boy’s mouth in time his mom opened the door. She smiled softly at them. “Your uncle needs new glasses.” She said. Merlin let go of the boy but didn’t forget to send him a death glare and got up to help his mom with her bags of groceries. Arthur put on his angel face.

That evening, Merlin winced every time the boy used the word that started with the letter ‘F’ and sweat like a pig throughout dinner.

When the boy left, He celebrated for one whole week.

Oh, fucking hell why I still have to see him was something Merlin screamed internally everytime he had to meet the boy. Be it on Christmas or other special occasions they always ended up in a fight, and at least one of them had to end up on the floor. It got worse when he was in uni, he discovered that the boy’s comprehensive was on the way to his uncle’s old flat where he had to live as long as he couldn’t make his own living.

It was either his eyes that always sought him out or he stood out, anyway. always loud and always in trouble as he lived and breathed. One day he saw Arthur walking with a girl, showed one of his friends his skinny middle finger, and walked away. The next day the boy got the whole group of that kid surrounded him. He got punched and ended up knocking against a trash can. It was the sound that made Merlin turn and spot him.

Merlin crouched behind a car, observing the situation, but his backpack made the car’s alarm go off. The whole group was in confusion. Without much of a thought, he ran in the confused crowd, grabbed Arthur’s wrist, and pulled him to run.

The kid was either desperate or smart, because he ran with him without a question. It turned out Arthur didn’t even know it was him because when they were safe round a corner, he looked up and said, “Merlin?”

They looked at each other for a moment and then Merlin started laughing, throwing his head upward to the cloudy sky, resting it on a brick wall behind him. He never thought he would make it, hell those kids were fast, and he was faintly reminded of his childhood. Arthur was hyperventilating, hands rested on his knee, face down, chuckling softly.

They ended up at Merlin’s place with a pack of ice from a grocery on their way. The ice pack did not last long, though, because when Arthur picked one of the ice out and threw it at Merlin, the ice war had started. It ended when one of them hit a dog’s head and they had to start running, again. The dog chased them for three blocks before giving up.

His room smelled like his breakfast, Merlin realized as soon as he opened the door of his flat. A curtain he had left open made the afternoon ray pour in, projecting dust in the air in which Arthur looked with disgust. The boy stepped into the room after the second nudge on his back.

Later on, as they were splaying on a worn couch, watching people do stupid things for money, legs kicking up on an old coffee table, Merlin asked,

“Why are they after you, anyway?”

Arthur shrugged.

“Is it about that girl?”

“Which girl?”

“The one from yesterday.”

He got the boy’s attention. “Did you spy on me?”

“Just happen to walk past.”

Arthur squinted at him and turned away. He thought he was never going to get the answer but after a tv commercial break Arthur breathed out. “She asked me to help her, said he was a jerk. Needed me to pretend to be her boyfriend to rid of him.”

“Does it work?”

“What d’you think?”

They didn’t talk much after that and Arthur left after a slice of frozen pizza

The next day he came with a question.

“Hey, can I crash on your couch for a night? I have a fight with my dad.”

“What do you mean- and no! I think that’s illegal, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean.”

“Hiding a kid under your roof?”

“You’re not hiding anything, I am the one who asks you if I can stay.”

“I don't think the cop will listen to that.”

“Look, can I or can I not…” he said then added with a shrug, hands digging in his pockets. “I can go somewhere else.”

The kid obviously didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He sighed. “Come in, then.” Arthur was suddenly cheerful. He ran inside and Merlin had to yell, “Just one night!”

That night, Merlin was brushing his teeth when the boy peeked in and said, “I can’t find a bed.”

He looked at Arthur for a while then turned to spit. When he turned back, the boy was staring at him. “Ah, that’s…because there isn’t one”

“Why?”

“Because I can sleep on the couch and the money for the bed can go to my student fee?”

The boy shrugged. “Fair enough.” Then he left.

By the time he got out of the shower, the kid was already asleep. He sighed then began his small mission of searching for the best spot on the cold, hard floor, and at the end, found it all hard and uncomfortable all the same. He ended up at the cleanest spot which was at the back of the couch. His movement must have woken Arthur up. The boy mumbled something about ‘having bad dreams lately’ and ‘would be nice if someone could help waking him up.’ so Merlin had to move and squeeze himself into the tiny space between the coffee table and the couch.

The boy didn’t lie. At some point of that night, he jerked and kicked at nothing. Merlin was half-asleep himself, the whole thing was nothing but blurriness to him, he shook the boy while mumbling, it’s a dream, and it’s a dream, repeatedly. A second later, He heard the boy exhale then some other vague minutes later he felt a finger smooth high on his cheek.

“You have very sharp cheekbones.” Arthur commented quietly.

Merlin snorted and swatted the hand away, too tired at this hour of the night to tell him to cut it off. He turned his head away and there was a hand playing with his hair instead. He was beyond the point that he cared by then so he fell asleep like that. When he woke up at nine in the morning, the kid had already left. His hair was a tangled mess.

Arthur didn’t show up on the next day, though, on the next-next day he came, later than usual, but bringing with him a storm cloud of teenage-range. The bitterness only teenagers could wield.

Arthur barged in as soon as the door unlocked, fuming and saying things too fast for him to understand. He only got the last part which went, “Wanna hear the best part? He didn’t even ask where I was! He just assumed I was out doing drugs and got myself in trouble. He told me I deserve the punch!”

“Wait, who are we talking about?” Merlin said, throwing himself on the couch. He figured the boy just wanted someone to hear him out so he better prepare for a long listening and nodding session.

Arthur followed him with wild gestures. “Who the bloody fuck do you think—”

“Hey, calm down!”

The boy was in front of him, yelling, “What? You want me to calm down? I’m not calming the fuck down. I’m—”

“Stop it! you didn’t come home yesterday too?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Where were you?”

“Smoking with thugs.”

“Arthur, I’m serious”

“No one believe me anyway. What’s the point?”

“Where have you been?”

“Fuck you!”

“Arthur, I’m worried about you, damn it!” He grabbed Arthur’s arm.

“Fuck you, fuck....”

“Are you crying?”

“’m not.”

“B—”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, hell. Come here.”

Merlin pulled him, the boy fell easily on his lap and he tugged him in further, back to chest, holding him and letting him cry it out. The boy struggled at first but then gave up and let all his weight slumped on him. He could feel the way he curled up to himself, breath wavering. His hot tears fell on his arm once in a while.

He was just a boy, a poor boy with no good-warm hand to hold when he was struggling through the crazy phase of teenage years. At one point, Arthur looked like he was going to burst into something awful and Merlin didn’t know how to deal with it, had no idea how to comfort someone who was crying like this. So he did what his mom did when he was little, which were rocking softly and buried his nose on the boy’s hair, lips pressing on the crown of his head. Arthur cooled down after a while. He mumbled something about ‘a friend’s place.’ And Merlin said it’s okay, and it’s okay, and I believe you and that made him cry again, harder, so he held him firmer and repeated what he just did.

It went on and off like that for about half an hour. They didn’t talk about it after that, just pretending that evening had never existed, and that was a relief for everyone.

A month later, the visit became something close to a habit, something he expected every evening, telling his friend he gotta go, really, he can't stay late even though it was only 4pm. It was odd, even to himself, because they didn’t even do anything interesting, not at all, the most exciting thing that had happened was that one time when Arthur took a sip of a beer he left lying around and spit it out almost immediately, saying it was a horrible, horrible drink. Merlin laughed at him and pushed his head playfully and, somehow, that initiated a small fight in which they both ended up on the floor, as usual, but what added up were frantic smiles and laughter.

The other times they just watch the tele, eat pizza, or Arthur would play something on his phone until the battery died, and, someday, they just had a nice long nap after a long, long day together on the couch, head in the opposite direction, legs knocking together, fighting for space before one of them fell asleep.

There was a day he couldn’t make it to his flat until 6 and he found the boy sitting at his door, dozing off. He crouched down, leaving all that he had carried on the floor and used his two fingers to push his head up, saying, ‘hey,’ then, ‘I’m home.’ Through the wooziness of sleep and the haze of whatever he had been dreaming of, Arthur half opened his eyes, frowning and, after his eyes focused, his lips curved into a smile.

Arthur stopped visiting him after his summer break. Although he saw the boy after school sometimes, he didn’t walk in and ask him why, and Arthur didn’t care to explain anything to him, so the whole thing remained a mystery. He saw the kid steal a glance at him every time he thought he didn’t look, and quickly looked away when he turned his way. Arthur sent him Christmas cards every year but he didn’t write anything except his name at the back. Merlin didn’t reply.

Maybe it was because he didn’t earn that much money, or because he had fallen in love with the place, or that faint hope at the back of his head that someday Arthur would return and they could hang out again rooted him here, he wouldn’t know, but he still lived at the same flat. The whole place was renovated, but some furniture remained the same, like the couch, and some were added, like a giant bed.

He moved on with his life, as a sane person would do, those months with Arthur were good memories, and that was all he would allow them to be. He met people, stayed with his friends longer after classes and went out with one of them, graduated, went through his first break up, got a job near his place, went out with someone on the internet, got promote, went through another break up, and went out with someone from his workplace, which was the worst because, god, he should have seen it coming, no one could be that nice without wanting something from him.

The more he thought back, the sadder he became. He couldn’t make it through the night alone, he was sure of that, so he pulled out his mobile and started scrolling through his contact for a name ‘Freya’. The haze made him almost drop his phone, he caught it in time, but then it appeared that he had already pressed the call. He quickly bring it to his ear and said,

“Could you come over? I feel like shit.”

It was either she didn’t answer, or he hung off sooner than she could, but anyway, it didn’t matter.

Freya had been his best friend since uni, she helped him through many hard times and he helped her. She was a friend for life. An hour later, he felt a little better and thought he should call and tell her she didn’t have to come anymore. The thought lingered at the back of his head as he poured vodka into Ben and Jerry’s, then someone knocked on his door.

After a click the door was unlocked. He turned the knob and pulled, a person behind it looked surprised but then said, “Sorry, problem with a client. I come as fast as I can”

It was Arthur, of all people, and where the hell did he come from Merlin wouldn’t know, He was in a navy suit, some parts of his shirt were untucked, his hair was wind-blown, and he was breathing a little too fast. All in all, he looked like he had run all the way here. He grew up a lot, too, and so, so not a boy anymore. Merlin found he couldn’t stop staring.

“I…” He started but then his head went blank.

Arthur was waiting, it was too long a pause and it was getting weird. He said the first thing that came to mind.

“...own a bed now.”

“Good.” Arthur replied, smiling oddly. He would too if the first thing someone told him after not seeing each other for years was that they got a new mattress. “Good for you.” He added and reached in to pat his shoulder. Merlin looked at the hand, feeling strangely warm and a little ache in his stomach. Arthur pulled his hand back before he could do anything.

“Um…“ Merlin cleared his throat. “Why- why are you here?”

“Because you call.” Arthur replied. “Said you feel like shit and…”

“I call Freya” Merlin said, pulling his phone out.

“You call me.”

He did call him.

After tucking his phone back into his pocket, he said, “Shit, sorry, I don’t even know I have your number.” And then, “Come on in.”

Merlin walked back to the kitchen island where he left his ice-cream. Arthur followed him, taking off his suit all the while. He grabbed an extra spoon and they ate together, leaning on the hard surface with their elbows propped up, shoulder by shoulder.

After a moment of silence where Arthur’s eyes surveyed the room, and Merlin still couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t believe he was actually there, next to him, Arthur turned his way and said, “So...what happened?”

Merlin blinked rapidly, then looked down. “Nothing.” He mumbled.

A push at his shoulder and a “Come on.” made him smile.

“Well, my boyfriend dumped me.” He said at last.

Arthur was quiet for a while, probably thinking about the fact that his ‘boyfriend’ not ‘girlfriend’ dumped him. He didn’t look disturb, though, just surprised by the fact. Merlin realized he had never told him. He ate a spoonful of ice cream just to have something to do.

Arthur poked his spoon in the ice cream rhythmically, not eating, playing with it. “He probably shit anyway.” He said.

“And how would you know that?” Merlin pushed Arthur’s spoon away by his spoon. And then a small spoon fight started. Arthur snorted.

“Because he dumped you?”

“Just...shut up.”

The spoon fight lasted longer than any of them had expected. The clanging of metal filled the used-to-be dark and lonely room and turned it back in time to the day where there were less things to worry about. It ended, however, not like how any of them had imagined, the ice cream had melted during it all and when Merlin accidentally dug some of it up, it splashed on Arthur’s face, square on his nose. Merlin gave a high-pitch laugh and continued chuckling until Arthur wiped it with his thumb then sucked it while looking at him. Merlin could feel his ear heat up so fast he had to quickly look down at the container.

“I miss this.” Arthur said, after a while.

“Hmm.” Merlin hummed to the melting ice-cream. When he looked up, Arthur was inspecting his spoon, and backed up to catch his eyes, then shifted to his lips. He forgot to breathe for a while and he took that as a sign he should move away from where he stood and turn on the tv.

Arthur followed him to the couch and splayed on it like he had been living here the whole time. When Arthur spoke he jumped a little.

“My dad found out.”

“Sorry?”

“That I came to your place. He hit me and everything, but that’s not important…” He trailed off then laughed, but it sounded hollow. Merlin shifted closer and held his hand, squeezing it lightly. Arthur squeezed back, looking away, pinching at the bridge of his nose. When he continued he looked Merlin in the eye, his voice a little crack at first. “He said if he sees me with you again, he’ll do something horrible to you.”

“But we didn’t…”

“He never listens.” There was a pause. He spoke again in a more cheerful tone. “Anyway, I’m rich now, and I moved out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Me and a couple of friends, we’ve built a business together. It went well. I have a house now, with bed and everything.”

Merlin snorted at the reference, he replied, “Good for you.”

Out of nowhere, Arthur used his other hand to ruffle his hair fondly. “I always wanna do this.” he chuckled.

Merlin let him, but didn’t forget to bite back a little with a, “Yeah? But you’re never tall enough right? Even now only because I’m sitting down that you can—” Arthur ruffled his hair harder and it was funny at first but then his head started to ache like it was going to explode and then his laugh turned into a yelp. Arthur went pale and stopped immediately, the headache faded but it still lingered on. He made him lie down and said he knew how to make it feel better.

He asked if he had any clean towel, Merlin said he did, it was in his wardrobe. Arthur walked into his bedroom and that was when he realized he had something he didn’t want Arthur to see in there, so he said wait-wait-wait, but Arthur had already come out with a towel, nothing else in his hand. Merlin exhaled in relief.

Arthur soaked the towel in hot water and twisted the cloth dry then put the warm cloth on his forehead. He was so close and Merlin wondered if it was wrong that his heart sped up at the closeness. He could blame it on the alcohol, though, but he didn’t drink that much.

The towel made him feel better, and he guessed Arthur could interpret that from his expression because he smiled and moved to sit on the couch, put Merlin’s feet on his lap and locked it with his elbows.

Then, to Merlin’s horror, he brought out a bundle of Christmas cards and examined it. They were the cards from every year Arthur kept sending him, he kept it in his bedroom on his nightstand. This time Merlin knew why his heart sped up. He found it after all, that bastard.

“Now that you feel better, let’s see what we have here.” He seemed so happy as he went through each card and that made Merlin want to kick him off the couch.

“I’m about to throw it away.”

“Really?” Arthur lifted a brow, still looking at the cards, not believing him even a bit.

On the cards Merlin wrote what he felt. Most of them have a word ‘dumbass’ on it, some of them have a, ‘where the hell r u?’ And on the random one there was a, ‘miss you.’ He knew when Arthur found it because he froze then looked at him.

“I...” Merlin started, but didn’t know how to finish.

Arthur frowned, he seemed lost inside his head. Merlin tried to pull his legs away as slowly as he could, the towel slipped from his forehead and he tried to catch it but that created sound and brought Arthur back to reality and he was moving, crawling up and up until they were face to face, his hair dropped down, tickling his forehead.

Merlin’s breath stuttered as Arthur’s hand cupped the back of his neck lightly, thumb caressing the corner of his mouth, down to his cheek. He closed his eyes, giving in just like that and suddenly Arthur’s lips were on his, soft and just pressing there, not doing anything until he opened his mouth a little and kissed back.

The feeling was new, of course, but it also felt like something familiar. Like it had always been like this between them, but he couldn’t pinpoint when had it started, or maybe...maybe it built up slowly. Bits by bits of this and that were threw at the back, ignored and forgotten, but they were there, gathering and building up, and then one day he noticed a weird shadow looming over him and it made him turn back and found a pile of those thing, towering over his head already, and as soon as he blink it collapsed on him, buried him and he cannot get out. Partly because there were so many of them and partly because he really didn’t want to. So he just stayed there, warming himself in that pile of chaotic mess and surrendered to it all.

Every time Arthur was the one who had to come up with a place to go on their date, he always went for something wild. For the past two years Merlin had been through scuba diving, paragliding, and the most memorable of all, jumping off the roof into a pool at Arthur’s place. This time was not an exception. They were on what Merlin called, ‘The most time-consuming date ever,’ but what Arthur called, ‘A trip to a beautiful island in which all of their friends (including the one who was on holiday and really, really wanna come with) couldn’t make it.’

They had roamed the island the whole morning, finding weird things to eat, chatting with locals, racing on the beach—lost to a kid that joined uninvited but only because they were too busy pushing at each other rather than focusing on the race—go swimming in the afternoon, and In the evening they were so worn out the only valid choice was to stay in their ฺBungalow, having a nice shower and lazing around on their king size bed.

The final light of the day tinted the sky orange. The wind sighed into the room through an open window, tip-toeing on their skin before snuck away silently through the other opposite. Arthur walked out of the shower, wearing a white t-shirt and coconut pattern shorts Merlin bought him last year. He turned the radio on and it was playing the ending part of a song softly, fading out. In the background, the DJ said something about traffic and a request from a listener to play a special song for their loved one.

Merlin was already lying down when Arthur climbed on the bed, at first beside him but then on him. Merlin tugged his shirt with a suggestive smile. Arthur took it off, trying to take it off more like because it stuck on his head. Merlin laughed at that, he was almost in tears and Arthur asked what’s so funny while still trying to get it off. Merlin gave him a hand and promised to tell him about it later.

Arthur knocked his forehead with his knuckles when he was free from his clingy shirt. Merlin protested but forgave him after a kiss on his cheek and a warm smile. Arthur bent down closer and Merlin couldn’t resist the urge to push his hair back just to watch it fall down again as he let go. He did it while saying, “You never change, my little shithead.”

“Your shithead?” Arthur raised a brow.

Merlin looked him in the eyes, beaming. “Yes, shithead.”

Arthur’s mouth curved up. “You’re my dumbass, then.” He said, nuzzling their nose together.

Merlin snorted. “Your dumbass?”

“Yes.” Arthur whispered to his lips.

Merlin smiled. “Okay.” then lifted himself up a bit to let their lips meet. “No taking back, though.”

Arthur hummed and during it all he could hear a song played on the radio.

‘...Man, oh, man, you're my best friend. I scream it to the nothingness. There ain't nothing that I need...Oh, home, let me come home...Home is wherever I'm with you’

When the song was almost over, they were both heaving for breath. Arthur said, “Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait.” as he pulled away. Merlin followed, but he was pushed back down.

“What?” He asked.

“Shushh.” Arthur bent back down but this time keeping his face hidden in the curved of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. The DJ said there was another request from the listener called ‘Arthur.’ He would like to ask if Merlin fancy marrying him? And the song continued.

“What?”

Arthur said nothing, but he could feel his face heating up on the skin of his neck.

“Arthur?”

“So?”

“So what?”

Arthur propped up on his elbows, looking at him with his reddening nose and ears “What do you say?”

“Hmmm…should I? Let me thi—hey!”

For making him wait, Arthur tickled him and used his weight to keep him from escaping. Merlin laughed and laughed and tried to push his hands away but Arthur got the position to his advantage. He yelled, “Yes, yes, I do!”

Arthur let him go, smiling, his eyes glistened with happiness.

Merlin beamed back. “You can’t just tickle me into marrying you.”

“Can’t I?” Arthur tickled him again but this time Merlin stopped him by yanking him down and kissing the breath out of him.

“Did you pick the song?” Merlin asked after a moment.

“No.” Arthur replied.

“You did.”

“Shut up.”

Merlin laughed and kept smiling, he didn’t think could not stop smiling right then, not any time soon.

“Dumbass.” Arthur commented.

“Your dumbass.”

“Mine.”

Arthur kiss left cheek, saying, ‘My friend,’

then his right cheek, saying, ‘my love,’

and then on his forehead, pressing there, saying,

‘my...