Work Text:
Merlin sighed as he held his wrist to his chest. The winter air was cold around him as he approached the coffee shop. Excitement was singing in his veins, the gentle thrum of magic vibrating all the way to his fingertips. Today was the day.
The timer on his wrist counted down steadily, but Merlin still found it too slow.
The sign ahead of him was large and wooden and new. Reading King’s Brew Coffee in loopy calligraphy, golden accents glittering on the black ink.
It had just opened the night before, and Merlin nearly cried when he woke that morning to see the timer on his wrist jump from three years to two hours. Now, peeking down at the timer as he stopped in front of the front doors of the coffee shop, it read only sixty seconds.
Merlin’s breath hitched and he hurried to pull open the doors, pausing when he stepped inside to look around with wide eyes.
It wasn’t packed but there were about ten customers spread out through the shop and three employees.
Heart pounding, Merlin approached the counter. His hands shook ever so slightly as he stopped, letting them grip the edge—thumbs resting atop the surface, wrists turned outwards. Then, he waited. Waited and watched, with wide eyes, as the timer rapidly flicked down from ten to five. He could hear someone approaching from in front of himself, the other side of the register, but he couldn’t look up.
Staring and holding his breath as it counted down.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“What can I get for you today?”
Zero.
Merlin’s eyes snapped up, and his magic sung in his veins.
“It’s you…” he whispered, stunned. He was gorgeous. Light, cerulean blue eyes, a strong jaw, golden hair Merlin had the strongest urge to run his fingers through… And his voice. It was smooth—velveteen—the kind of voice he could listen to for hours…
The barista blinked slowly. Then, his eyes flicked down to Merlin’s wrist and the recognition dawned.
“Oh.”
“You’re my—we’re…wow,” Merlin breathed. Almost overwhelmed by the realisation he’d really just met his soulmate.
As if he couldn’t believe it, the barista rapidly rolled up his sleeve and looked down at his timer. It blinked with double zeros. He looked back up with wide eyes, stunned. Merlin’s heart raced in his chest—hammering against his ribs. A grin pulled at his lips.
“I’m Merlin,” he greeted, “and I think you’re my soulmate. Nice to meet you.”
The barista let out a small laugh and shook his head. Stared at Merlin like he was something special. Like he was something rare. Then, he spoke again, and Merlin’s stomach flipped—both anxious and excited—knowing it was the start of something new and brilliant.
“I’m Arthur, and my shift ends at three. Would you like to grab dinner?”