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The rain was freezing him down to his bones.
Trudging through the puddles of filthy water and most likely ruining his shoes and trousers in the process, Merlin couldn’t find it in himself to care.
It was dark out, the streetlights serving as the only light source fighting off the dark clouds and heavy rain that was sabotaging his vision. They actually looked quite beautiful reflecting on the flooded roads. Had it been under different circumstances, Merlin might’ve taken the time to take a photo.
He was alone on the street. Everyone else was seemingly sane enough to stay inside during this kind of weather. There was barely a car to be seen, only Merlin, shoulders hunched and shaking, a bottle held in his hand.
Merlin raised it up and gulped down the burning liquid. He squeezed his eyes against the harsh rain, then lowered it again, a grimace taking over his expression.
The beer was kind of disgusting, but whatever.
Merlin checked how much he had left, eyes stinging and red, nose swollen looking, and lips blue. He ended up just tossing it into the first green bin he saw.
He was mildly drunk and depressed, but he had the decency to recycle.
No buses were going at this time, understandably so, but Merlin sat down at a stop anyway. He was thankful for the cover from the merciless rain.
The metal seat was cold, but it was better nevertheless, giving his feet a rest. He had started to feel a little bit dizzy, swaying on his way. There was a little LED light above him, and Merlin looked down at himself. He was still shaking, albeit slightly less, and his clothes were thoroughly soaked through, sticking to his skin all over.
Merlin wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes, counting to 10 to work on getting his breathing back under control.
He thought of Lancelot.
He thought of how wonderful he had been to him, how happy he made him. He thought of all the flowers and compliments and pleasant family meetings, the chivalrous gestures. He thought of the confusion and hurt in his expression when Merlin told him they just couldn’t work out, after almost 5 months of dating. Of the crack in his voice when he offered to drive Merlin home in the rain, despite the broken heart he held in his chest.
He would never find someone so amazing again. He threw away his best chance at a healthy, happy relationship. Just like that
“Merlin?!”
And oh god, Arthur.
Merlin still remembered Arthur, even half a year later. He still went mad thinking about him.
Arthur had been a prick. An arrogant, proud asshole. He’d called Merlin names and pinched his arm and teased him about his horrid bedhead. He’d laughed so loud the whole neighbourhood could hear him, kissed like he was fighting a battle, and smiled so brightly Merlin’s heart would melt in a pile of goo.
Their dates had always ended in disaster. From one of them falling into a fountain to getting kicked out of a restaurant. They’d fought over everything and anything, and their parents had absolutely despised each other, which had in the end proven to be too much to handle.
And god, Merlin had loved him so, so much.
He frowned gently at the droplets tickling their way down his cheeks, despite the cover he found from the rain.
Merlin hadn’t registered the sound of feet splashing past the wet pavement as he wiped away his tears. His mind was a little, hazy. But then somebody was there, laying a thick coat over his slightly trembling shoulders.
“Merlin, what the hell are you doing here?!” a voice all too familiar broke through his foggy thoughts, and Merlin looked up to find Arthur, looking like a wet rat in front of him, little clouds of smoke escaping his lips.
Arthur.
“Merlin.”
“Hey, can you hear me?” There were warm hands cupping his face, deep, worried blues staring into him. He’d always been so warm.
“Merlin, are you hypothermic?” the muffled voice said. One of the hands went down to his neck to feel the pulse.
And then he was getting gently picked up and carried to a car.
Everything that followed was kind of foggy. He might’ve zoned out or napped a little, he wasn’t sure. Somehow though, he got home, and his clothes were different, dry and warm. He was covered in blankets.
His room was dim and warm, the radiator on. His clothes were dumped in the washing basket, still dripping wet. They really should dry first before being put in there, but at least they weren’t on him.
There were sounds coming from the kitchen, someone talking to his dog and turning off the cooker. It would’ve been mildly worrying, had Arthur not walked in a minute later, a tray with a bowl carefully held in his hands.
Well that certainly explained why the clothes weren’t properly handled.
“Okay, I tried my best to fully remember that recipe you taught me, sorry if I got something wrong, but you’ll appreciate it anyway. I think it’s actually my best work so far.” Arthur spoke proudly as he placed the soup on his bedside table. Merlin stared at it blankly, then turned his gaze onto Arthur.
“How did you get into my apartment?” he asked. He was a bit stuck on that, after all. Amongst other things.
Arthur blinked at the question. “You still keep your spare key in the same spot.” he replied.
“Oh.” Merlin thought, and apparently voiced as well, because Arthur smiled apologetically.
“Yeah… sorry, but I wasn’t about to let you die.”
Merlin nodded slowly. He still wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling, but he understood that. “Okay.” he spoke softly and turned to the soup again. “That’s… that’s a valid excuse.”
He missed the fond, amused smile that flashed across Arthur’s face, before it disappeared as the man stood up.
“I fed Pongo, by the way. He sat in his I want food spot and gazed into my soul.” Arthur told him. Merlin almost chuckled at the memory of Arthur teasing him about the name he gave his dalmatian. He’d been such an asshole, making Merlin blush and scoff, but smile too.
“Thank you, Arthur.” he said gently, genuine. Arthur just, nodded.
Why? Because he was an emotionally constipated prick, that’s why.
“Do you want me to leave now?” Arthur asked quietly, now that he was sure Merlin was okay.
He found that he didn’t want that, though. Merlin was naturally very blunt.
“Not really.”
“…Ah.”
Merlin reached over and carefully took the bowl of soup, together with the tray Arthur brought it on, since it was still hot. Though, burnt hands sure would be a lovely cherry on top frozen balls.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Arthur asked, and switched his weight from one foot onto the other, his arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed position. He could see a vein along the forearm. It was infuriating.
Merlin shrugged and began eating the soup, leaving Arthur to just stand there.
It was actually pretty decent. The soup.
“Is it good?”
“Yes, surprisingly.”
Arthur did a little victory gesture with his arm. Merlin had to hide his smile.
He cleared his throat and did his best to quickly finish, just so he could push a few of the blankets off of himself.
It felt so much better.
“You feeling okay now?” Arthur asked, reaching over to feel his forehead.
Merlin ignored the heat that rushed to his ears. It didn’t mean anything. Or, it shouldn’t.
He watched Arthur as he pulled his hand back, staring right back at him. One could hear a pin drop, the only thing breaking the silence being Pongo’s playing in the living room. A tennis ball bouncing, paws sliding across the floor boards, a body crashing into the front door.
“How are you, Merlin?” Arthur asked so, so softly. Merlin felt like his voice got stuck in his throat.
It took him a couple moments, mouth opening and closing repeatedly before he inevitably snapped.
“I broke up with Lancelot.”
It was interesting, watching realization dawn on Arthur’s face. All the emotions passing.
“Why?”
And wasn’t that a load to unpack.
“He was just, too perfect. I don’t know.”
That sounded stupid. He knew it did, and Arthur’s face would certainly have told him so even if he didn’t.
Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, dropping his head in his hands with a groan.
“I know I’m a fucking moron. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Merlin…”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, alright? He’s everything a person could want. He’s handsome, and got along with my parents, and opened the car door, and sent me fucking teddy bears, and asked me if he could kiss me every single time before he did it, and cooked, and he was respectful and kind and always wanted to pay on dates and never disagreed with me and was always prepared for anything that might come up and-“
“Merlin.”
“But I don’t want that.” Merlin whipped his head back up and looked at Arthur, who was no longer looking at him but at the floor instead, his jaw tight and eyes so, so fucking easy to read. Or maybe Merlin just knew what to look for.
They were silent for a couple moments before Merlin spoke again. His voice was much quieter that time.
“I want… I want to fight over the place we’re going to order food from, and complain about our asshole co-workers, and wake up at 4 am just to eat grilled fucking sandwiches, and wrestle over the telly remote just to end up making out instead of actually watching. I want passion and fun and excitement and-“
Arthur waited for him to finish, staring, but Merlin couldn’t. Instead, he just asked “Do you understand?”
It took him a while to answer, his feet starting to move in tiny repetitive steps, back and forward, jaw tightening. They were his non-verbal tells. He was trying to calm and comfort himself.
Merlin wanted to reach out, but he felt too tense himself.
“I understand.” Arthur said quietly, but his voice was strong nevertheless.
Merlin could physically feel the tension in his shoulders fall as he sighed in relief, looking down.
“Merlin?”
“Yeah?”
Arthur nibbled on his lip. He hesitated for a few moments but managed to make himself come closer and sit down, on the edge of the bed. He avoided Merlin’s eyes.
“I know how much your family means to you…. And I know my father and mother fucking suck, and I know how much the fights and hatred there stressed you out and I’m so fucking sorry I was too weak to talk back to him, Merlin. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t.”
Merlin frowned, “Arthur, it wasn’t your fault.” he said, but Arthur wasn’t having it.
“No, but I should’ve stood up better. I should’ve fought stronger for you. You deserved that much, and, so much more.” he spoke passionately. His eyes were determined when they finally met Merlin’s. “I understand why your parents were angry and why you were upset, and I know it’s my fault, with my stupid ideas and naive hope and cowardice and-“
“You’re not a coward.” Merlin cut him off firmly, shaking his head. Arthur couldn’t think that. He couldn’t. He was the bravest man Merlin knew.
“I couldn’t raise my voice or put my foot down at a stupid old man, Merlin, I am, I’m just-“
Arthur stopped, staring at Merlin, eyes flickering down to the hand he placed on his cheek.
Merlin couldn’t tell whether he was breathing or not.
He licked his lips, shuffled a little bit closer.
“You’re not a coward, Arthur.” he whispered, and this time, Arthur didn’t have anything to say in return.
There was only silence. Eyes taking each other in, breaths mingling. Neither of them moved a muscle, until,
Merlin smiled.
It was only a little smile, dimples only just barely revealing themselves. Merlin gently moved his thumb, caressing soft skin, brushing over the arch of Arthur’s eyebrow.
Arthur looked almost enchanted, swallowing and leaning slightly into Merlin’s hand.
“Were you in love with him?” he asked. It was barely audible, really, but Merlin heard him.
“No,” he shook his head gently. Maybe to assure him, though he wasn’t sure why.
He had no reason to. No obligation. But he wanted to.
There were a million reasons why Merlin should’ve just thanked Arthur and sent him on his way. Why they just would not work out.
“Were you in love with me?”
Idiot.
“You know the answer to that.” Merlin’s smile widened, cheeks flaming as he looked down.
He knew Arthur was smiling smugly. He just knew. It was infuriating as it was attractive.
“You’re so annoying.” Merlin shook his head. He could hear Arthur chuckle, pulled his hand back as the man drew a little closer.
He looked up instinctively, eyes widening slightly at how close Arthur was. He was smiling. Merlin could feel his breath on his chin.
He couldn’t help it when his eyes trailed down a bit.
“And yet you love me.”
It was frustrating as hell, and very, very true.
“I swear to god, Arthur-“ Merlin looked back up to meet his eyes, angry with himself that Arthur could still get under his skin so easily. “If you don’t shut the fuck uphmmh-!”
He inhaled sharply, eyes widening. He gripped onto Arthur’s shoulder, purely out of instinct.
And then it registered, and he kissed back.
The smile against his lips widened, and for once, Merlin didn’t find it infuriating.
Arthur grabbed his neck and pulled him closer, all too soft lips opening and pushing back against him instead of giving in. Merlin felt him gently bite and tug on his lip, tilted his head to the side to return with fierce determination.
Merlin reached for the shirt. He fumbled with the buttons , getting them out of the little holes as fast as he could, breaking away from the kiss just to push all the blankets away and move over Arthur, drawn in by him like a magnet.
“Missed me a lot, huh?” Arthur grinned as he watched him get all excited. Merlin grabbed his hair and kissed him in retaliation, didn’t stop his attack until he felt the man shudder.
He couldn’t believe he’d ever let him go.