Work Text:
It wasn’t that Arthur disliked family reunions, it was just… Well, yes, it was exactly that Arthur disliked family reunions.
They were boring and stiff, and filled with people he pretended to know even though he didn’t. Names in a crowd, that’s all they were. None of them really cared about him, if they did, he would see them more than once every two years at the Pendragon Reunion.
It didn’t help his father always expected the highest of him—his sister Morgana, he was so lenient with her, but Arthur had to uphold every Pendragon Value at every second. And should he ever falter… Well, Pendragon’s don’t falter. Especially not ones with a father who pays their university tuition.
He’d managed, though, to get away for a moment while his family was distracted by his father bragging about his latest business endeavours. Arthur took the chance for what it was—a rarity—and slipped off while eyes were off him and on his father.
And that was how he ended up in the cleaning supply closet in the lobby of the hotel, leaning against a rack of detergents with his eyes closed as he took deep breaths. He could hear the distant chatter from the reunion through the door. He couldn’t be more relieved he got out of there while he could.
He knew had he stayed any longer the dreaded marriage questions would begin to finally pop up. Why haven’t you got a wife, Arthur? When are you having kids, Arthur? You need to find a lovely girl, Arthur.
Arthur was sick of hearing it, really. He’d not found anyone he’d want to marry, yet, and it’s not his priority anyway, and he doesn’t even know if he wants children! It was irritating, to have so many people presume so many things with just one question.
Arthur stiffened, holding his breath as the door to the supply closet suddenly crept open, dread washing over him.
The dread was quickly replaced with confusion when, instead of an angry family member, a young—admittedly attractive—man with dark, messy hair slipped into the closet and shut the door behind him. Silent the whole process.
Arthur blinked a few times, trying to make sure he was really seeing what he was seeing. Then, the man’s shoulders drooped and he turned around. Only to immediately jump out of his skin upon seeing Arthur, standing confused against the back wall rack.
“Who’re you?!” The man asked in a startled whisper. Arthur took in his appearance, noting the rather nice suit he wore.
“Who are you?” He retorted; arms crossed over his chest.
The man huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a mimic of Arthur. “I asked you first.”
Right. What a child.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Arthur Pendragon. Your turn.”
“Merlin Ambrosius,” the man—Merlin—said, slowly uncrossing his arms.
“Right. Well, tell me, Merlin, what are you doing in here?” Arthur questioned, leaning back against the rack again as he gave Merlin a once over, “I know you don’t work here. Unless custodial uniforms have had a massive upgrade.”
“You know, I could be asking you the exact same thing, but—no, I don’t work here,” Merlin admitted, leaning back against the door. “I came for my friends wedding, he’s finally found someone to settle down with and I promised I would come.”
“And you’re hiding in the cleaning closet, why?”
“You just want to know everything don’t you?”
“Well,” Arthur huffed, “if I have to share my hiding spot, I may as well know why.”
A moment passed in silence as Merlin stared at Arthur, a frown on his face. Then, he sighed. “My ex showed up to the reception—bride invited him without telling anyone, she didn’t think it would be a problem but we… I didn’t exactly end things on good terms with him, and he isn’t really the best guy. What’s your story? You’re no custodian either.”
Arthur snorted, shrugging as he glanced away.
“Family reunion,” he explained, “sick of being asked when my wedding will be, and when I’ll have children, and a million prying questions while under my father’s constant scrutiny.”
Merlin’s face scrunched up in what resembled distaste before he sighed. “So, both hiding for good reason, I think we can share the closet.”
“Hm, I suppose we can,” Arthur agreed. “Or…”
“Or?”
“Now, forgive me if this is forward, but this closet is going to get quite claustrophobic with the two of us in here—and I have my family to avoid and you have a shitty ex,” Arthur began, clearing his throat. “What if we kill three birds with one stone.”
“What do you mean?” Merlin frowned. He stood up straighter, pushing away from the door.
“Take me back to the reception with you.” Arthur really hoped he wasn’t overstepping, but honestly—Merlin was attractive, and it would get him out of the reunion. “I get out of my reunion, you get a hot date to keep you safe from your ex, and we both get out of this closet.”
Arthur watched as Merlin’s eyes widened a fraction. He looked startled, then as if he was about to laugh, and Arthur nearly took back the suggestion. Until—
“Alright. Yeah, why the hell not?” Merlin shrugged, an amused grin spread across his face, “you’re dressed nice enough for a wedding, so why not? I have enough faith that if you were a killer, you’d have done it already.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You trust strangers too quickly.”
“Only incredibly attractive ones.” Merlin shrugged, grin shifting to a smirk. “Come on, before the cakes gone.”
Before Arthur could process the first half, Merlin was already opening the door and holding a hand out. Arthur hesitated a moment. He wondered briefly, was he really about to do this?
Go to a wedding with a stranger to get out of a family reunion just because the guy looked good.
It really wasn’t smart.
His father would have his head if he knew.
And really, that gave him his answer, didn’t it?
Arthur grinned and took Merlin’s hand. “Let’s go get some cake.”