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“That’s your brother?” Merlin asked. “Arthur Pendragon is your brother?”
Morgana gave Merlin an odd look as they sat down at one of the crusty tables in the basement of the student center.
“Yep.” She took a package of antibacterial wipes out of her purse and began wiping down the table. She then waved over one of the student waiters and ordered a beer before turning a perfectly manicured eyebrow to Merlin.
“Same,” Merlin told him, still staring at the blond on the stage. He’d seen Arthur Pendragon plenty of times around campus, usually in his footie kit or else in something incredibly expensive that rich people bought so they’d look like they were being casual. Who wouldn’t notice him? The man was fucking gorgeous.
And Arthur had actually spoken to Merlin a few times, but the conversations had fizzled out because Merlin was busy doing something else like trying to organize a rally or taking tickets to an event, or moving quickly through a crowd on his way someplace. Merlin didn’t have the best experience with the wealthy and tasteful anyway, and he tended to shy away from them. So, when Arthur had asked Merlin to have a cup of coffee with him and Vivian Wattley after they found themselves standing together in line at Starbucks, Merlin had made an excuse and taken his to go. What could he possibly find to talk about with Arthur Pendragon or Vivian Wattley, who always had her obviously-worked-on nose in her compact? They didn’t run in the same circles, and Merlin could only imagine how embarrassing it would be if Merlin had to admit he was gay—although he wasn’t ashamed of it; he wasn’t. He just didn’t want to talk about it to those two in Starbucks. That would be a real conversation stopper.
Somehow, the reality that Arthur was about to perform onstage here, where students frequently gathered in the seedy surroundings to play their music or recite their poems, seemed really out of place. After all, hadn’t Will recited his “Ode to Beyonce’s Bum” here?
Arthur wore jeans that were obviously ripped by chic fingers in some chic fabric house, with a navy Polo shirt that looked too damn good on him, and his hair was as brilliantly blond as always and perfect, same as the rest of him—perfect. He made Merlin cringe from all his shiny—perfectness. Perfection. Whatever.
“Problem?” Morgana asked.
“What? No, no, of course not.”
“You don’t like my brother?”
“It’s not that, it’s just…”
Elena had introduced Merlin to Morgana le Faye at a wildlife fundraiser. She was a bit stern and overpowering, but he’d soon found she was nice enough and very passionate about animals. Of course, Morgana had money, but Merlin didn’t learn that until later—after she’d donated a considerable amount to save the whales. And she didn’t flaunt it or make anyone uncomfortable about it like many of the rich set did.
When Morgana had asked Merlin to come with her to see her brother perform, he’d been a bit surprised because—didn’t she realize he was gay? He didn’t exactly hide it. But she hadn’t acted like it was a date or anything, so he’d agreed.
Really, Merlin thought, as he studied Arthur’s chiseled jaw and aquiline nose, he shouldn’t be surprised that Arthur Pendragon was Morgana’s brother-- they were both larger than life and terribly intimidating, also freakishly intelligent and good-looking, not to mention rich. And come to think of it, why shouldn’t talented be added to the mix? Didn’t Morgana model part-time? That takes talent. He guessed.
Still, it was difficult to resolve the straight-laced captain of the footie team-- I drive a Jaguar-- Arthur whom Merlin saw regularly on campus and spoke to a few times, with this easy-going laughing-- I’m about to strum a guitar and belt out a song—Arthur who stood on the stage now seeming anything but the prat Merlin assumed him to be.
“I just never imagined he…er…performed,” Merlin said.
“You probably don’t realize a lot of things about him.” She cut him a look that Merlin couldn’t decipher. “He’s a very good singer.” She cracked a peanut open and tossed the shell over her shoulder onto the floor to join the rest of the shells scattered there. “Our father had all kinds of plans for him. Singing opera, I think.” She laughed. “Arthur. Opera.” She shook her head at the notion.
Arthur’s group--band--back-up--whatever you’d call a guy on piano and a guy on violin-- began to warm up.
“That’s Lance on piano,” Morgana told Merlin, cracking another nut. “And the hot one with the violin is Gwaine. Isn’t he yummy?”
Merlin looked at her. Was she checking to see if he was gay?
“I suppose,” he said, “if you like the scruffy look. Nice arse, though.” There. There should be no doubt now.
Morgana laughed and nodded, looking a bit too pleased for someone who might have been hoping to date Merlin. Merlin relaxed a little.
“What kind of thing does Arthur sing?” Merlin asked, taking a pull of his beer. “If not opera?”
From where they sat, front and center, Merlin could see every line and crease in Arthur’s jeans.
Not that he was looking.
“Lots of stuff. Folk’s his favorite. Or folk-rock, I suppose you’d call it.”
“Really?” Merlin looked again at Arthur, re-assessing.
When Arthur perched on his stool to tune up his guitar, Merlin had been staring at him so long that he choked on his beer when Arthur’s eyes lifted and met Merlin’s.
Morgana waved to her brother while simultaneously slapping Merlin’s back with her other hand in an attempt to stop his gurgling coughs, and Arthur gave them a blinding smile—the kind that belonged in a TV commercial rather than a seedy basement with gum stuck to the underside of the tables.
Leon walked over and took a seat to Morgana’s right, raising his beer to Merlin in greeting. Leon was a friend of Merlin’s and had recently started dating Merlin’s best mate Gwen. They made a good pair, Merlin thought. He liked Leon a lot, although the berk was always teasing Merlin about being oblivious.
“Where’s Gwen?” Merlin asked.
“Got called in to the crisis center at the last minute,” Leon said. The last bloke Gwen had dated had broken up with her over her penchant for volunteering at a places that ate up so much of her time and didn’t even pay her for it. Leon took it all in stride, which made Merlin like him all the better. Plus he treated Gwen like a queen.
"That's too bad. I know she really wanted to come."
They talked for a few minutes until the lights, such as they were, went down, and the spotlight came on, illuminating Arthur on the stage. He looked perfectly at home there, relaxed and comfortable.
“Hello, all,” he greeted the audience, and some said hello back, some hooted good-naturedly, and a few whistled. Arthur just grinned.
“I’ve been meaning to try this out for a while, but things got in the way. Recently, though, I met someone who rather inspired me.”
“Lucky devil!” a girl called out, and there were a couple of cat calls. Merlin thought Arthur blushed, but he wasn’t sure.
“That person’s in the audience tonight, and I’ll be singing to him.”
Him?
Him?
Merlin glanced over at Morgana to make sure she’d heard that. She didn’t blink an eye.
Arthur was gay? What were the odds that Mr. Popular Greek God Big Man at Uni would be gay? That never happened! Merlin began to panic.
“Um. I thought he was with Vivian Wattley,” Merlin said to Morgana as casually as he could.
“That bint? No way. Even if Arthur were straight, which he most definitely is not, he wouldn’t date Vivian Wattley. Anyway, she’s our cousin.”
Leon laughed at this and shook his head.
Did that mean that Arthur’s overtures to Merlin had been romantically driven? And Merlin had snubbed them?
He wanted to thwack his head on the table until what little he had that passed for brains spilled out his rather obnoxiously large ears.
And now Arthur was going to sing to some lucky fuck who’d inspired him? God, Merlin was an idiot. He could just hear Gwen’s lecture when he told her about this—missing out on an opportunity to shag Arthur Pendragon. Or maybe more. Now that Merlin knew there was this hidden sensitive side to Arthur he hadn’t known about…one that sings folk songs to people who inspire him! Honestly, Merlin could just die.
Merlin sat back in his seat, glad that it was dark and no one could see the expression on his face, because he was done.
Lance began to play the piano, and then Arthur joined him on the guitar, fingers lightly stroking the guitar strings—and Merlin couldn’t stop staring at them, because they were gorgeous fingers—long and…well, shit, Merlin was back to perfect again. And Merlin agonized, because those perfect fingers could’ve been his. So to speak.
Until Arthur opened his mouth and began to sing, at which point Merlin’s heart clenched in his chest as though someone wrung it like a sopping wet dishrag.
It was an Art Garfunkel song, and Merlin loved this song, and any other time he might have been ticked that someone would sing it and probably muck it up, except that Arthur’s voice was beautiful—pure, ringing out clear and strong. He did the song justice; he really did. Merlin thought he’d melt right there in his seat. He forgot where he was and what he was doing—the only thing registering was the music and Arthur’s meltingly hypnotic voice.
I bruise you
You bruise me
We both bruise too easily
Too easily to let it show
I love you and that’s all I know
Did Arthur just look at Merlin? Merlin was pretty sure he did. Or had he been looking at Morgana? No, wait, he just did it again.
Didn’t he?
All my plans have fallen through
All my plans depend on you
Depend on you to help them grow
I love you and that’s all I know
When the singer’s gone, let the song go on
Merlin couldn’t believe Arthur could hit that high note. Fuck.
Gwaine took things up on the violin and the music reached a crescendo. Merlin’s heart swelled to nearly bursting as Arthur began to sing again.
But the ending always comes at last
Endings always come too fast
They come too fast
But they pass too slow
I love you and that’s all I know
When the singer’s gone, let the song go on
It’s a fine line between the darkness and the dawn
They say on the darkest night there’s a light beyond---
Merlin was caught up in the song, and then Arthur fucking looked at him as he sang the next lines—this time there was no question, because Arthur’s fucking gorgeous blue eyes locked with Merlin’s and didn’t let go until the last note of the song faded away.
Merlin was paralyzed.
But the ending always comes at last
Endings always come too fast
They come too fast
But they pass too slow
I love you and that’s all I know
That’s all I know
That’s all I know
That’s all I know
The lights came up and applause shook the room. Merlin couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t…
“Merlin?” Morgana rubbed his arm. “Are you okay?”
Merlin turned teary eyes her way.
“Oh, Merlin.” She smiled softly at him. “Are you telling me you really didn’t know?”
“Oblivious, just like I said,” Leon grinned. “Completely oblivious.”
“But…if he…why didn’t he say something?” Merlin wiped a tear away with a trembling hand. God, he was such a girl.
“Because you wouldn’t give him the time of day, you sod!” Morgana pushed Merlin in the shoulder.
And then Arthur walked over to their table looking just the tiniest bit sheepish. Morgana stood up and hugged him.
“That was beautiful, Arthur. Wasn’t it, Merlin?” When Merlin didn’t immediately respond, she turned to glare at him where he still sat in shock. He shook himself and stood up.
“It really was. It’s my favourite song.”
“I know,” Arthur smiled. “That’s why I sang it.”
“How did you know?” Merlin’s mouth kept falling open and he had to keep reminding himself to shut it.
“I asked your friend Gwen. Then I asked my sister to bring you here. And Leon to keep you here.”
Gwen knew? Merlin looked at Leon, who shrugged. “I had the easy part—you didn’t try to run.”
Merlin was sure his ears were bright red.
“So…this time will you go get a coffee with me and take the time to get to know me before you make assumptions?” Arthur asked. “I assume that’s why you wouldn’t before, unless...maybe I’m just not your type.” Arthur suddenly looked unsure, and Merlin so wanted to take that look off his face.
Everyone stared hard at Merlin.
“Yes.” Merlin nodded. “I would love to get to know you better, Arthur.”
Arthur’s smile was blinding, and, Merlin thought, absolutely perfect.