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It’s been hours since Arthur had left the flat to finally meet with his father about addressing some outdated and frankly discriminatory practices at the corporation Uther runs and Arthur has recently begun managing.
Hours without a single text or phone call, and Merlin feels about ready to jump out of his skin. He’s fairly sure he’s wearing a hole in the wood floor with his pacing. He’s done the laundry, tidied the kitchen and both bedrooms. The takeaway he’d ordered for them has long since gone cold, and Merlin is debating on going to Uther’s office himself to drag Arthur home (or at least make sure Arthur and Uther haven’t murdered each other) when the door to their flat clicks open.
Merlin immediately turns toward the front door, a dozen questions on his lips, but he freezes at the sight of his best friend.
Arthur had left the apartment in a neat suit that had sent Merlin’s traitorous, pining heart racing, looking every inch a proper businessman. He’d even styled his hair and put on some expensive cologne that Uther would probably approve of. He had looked so determined, proud and confident.
Merlin had silently fallen in love with him all over again.
Now, he looks like he’s been through absolute hell. His hair is tufted as if he’d been running a hand through it, tie tugged loose around his neck, and he looks so tired, eyes red-rimmed.
“Arthur.”
Arthur jolts, startled, staring at Merlin like he’d forgotten Merlin lives with him. “Merlin, it’s late, why are you still awake?”
Merlin just shakes his head. He couldn’t possibly just take himself to bed before Arthur got home. “I just…didn’t want you to feel like you were alone.” He tries not to read too far into the way Arthur looks at him, now, blue eyes wide and stunned, soft.
“It’s fine,” Arthur recovers himself and brushes a hand over Merlin’s shoulder. “Did you actually clean? You really must have been bor-”
“Is it?” Merlin interjects, watching Arthur, unwilling to let Arthur wiggle his way out of this. “Is it fine? How did it go?”
Arthur opens and closes his mouth a few times, before he shakes his head. “He won’t bend,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “Everything I brought up, he had a counterpoint for. A dated counterpoint, mind you. He’s too set in his ways, and I don’t know how to fix this. People in this company– people I care about– are going to end up hurt, and my words aren’t enough to prevent it.”
“Well,” Merlin says, putting his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and giving him a smile. “This is just the first attempt. We’ll have dinner, have a good night’s sleep, and brainstorm tomorrow for the next–”
“I came out to him.”
Merlin’s words clog up in his throat, hands tightening on Arthur’s shoulders. “Arthur?”
“I knew it wasn’t going well,” Arthur says, his eyes on Merlin, but Merlin gets the impression Arthur’s not really looking at him. “I thought, well, maybe if there was some sort of personal investment in it, he would reconsider some of his policies. He didn’t even bat an eye when I told him I’m bisexual.”
“Hey,” Merlin squeezes Arthur’s shoulders again. “Look at me, yeah? I’m proud of you.”
Arthur just shakes his head, but he tips forward as though leaning into Merlin’s touch, his shoulders relaxing. “It wasn’t enough.”
Merlin knows Arthur well enough to hear the ‘I’m not enough’ hidden in that statement, but he wordlessly ushers Arthur to his bedroom.
“He told me I’m just confused,” Arthur says. “That I clearly have too much time on my hands if I'm buying into this… ‘nonsense’ and that I need to choose better friends. That my extra time would be better spent being a more dedicated businessman.” Merlin says nothing, helping Arthur out of his suit jacket, and it’s almost heartbreaking, the way Arthur doesn’t think twice about letting Merlin help him. “This was always how it was going to end. No matter what I do with my life, I was always going to end up disappointing him.”
“Okay,” Merlin turns Arthur and sits him down on the edge of the bed. “There’s only one Pendragon that’s a disappointment, and it isn’t you.”
“Merlin!”
“No, shut up, I’m talking now,” Merlin shushes Arthur, and he thinks he catches Arthur muttering something along the lines of “What else is new? ” under his breath, which Merlin ignores, but something in his chest loosens at the hint of Arthur’s playful side coming out again. “As I was saying, there’s only one Pendragon that’s a disappointment, and it’s the one who has stuck to one worldview his entire life, and refuses to change. The one that can look his brave, talented son in the eyes and not see how lucky he is to have a son like you.”
Arthur is staring at Merlin, mouth slightly opened, eyes wide and bright.
Years ago, Merlin had looked at Arthur and seen a conceited, egotistical trust fund baby. It had taken only a few months in Arthur’s presence to realize how wrong Merlin had been.
Arthur is a good man, stubborn but kind, constantly listening and working to eradicate the biases that Uther instilled in him to be a better person to those around him, especially those without his privilege.
And all he’s ever wanted for himself was to make Uther proud.
“You’re a good man, Arthur,” Merlin says, softer, one hand sliding from Arthur’s shoulder to curl gently against his neck. He can feel Arthur swallow, and Arthur’s pulse speed up. “And I know you’ll never say it, but you’re a better son than Uther deserves. I’m proud to know you and call you my friend.”
Arthur makes a choked noise in his throat, and between one breath and the next, he presses forward and kisses Merlin, quick but firm, before pulling back.
Merlin stares at him, mouth slack and tingling. “Really?” he demands. “Now?”
“I guess?”
“You guess?” Merlin steps forward, standing between Arthur’s legs, staring at him. “You are a piece of work, Arthur Pendragon.”
“You were just saying such nice things, Merlin,” Arthur says, and he’s smiling now, the sight of it a balm to Merlin, even though Arthur was the one who had clearly needed the comfort.
“You–”
“I love you, by the way,” Arthur says. “In case it wasn’t obvious.”
“Arthur.”
“I’ve had a very long day,” Arthur continues, looking all too pleased to have rendered Merlin into single word responses with a three word bombshell. “I think you should come to bed with me and let me hold you for a while.”
“You seem so sure it’s reciprocated,” Merlin chokes out, but he’s already crawling under Arthur’s duvet.
Arthur just gives him an indulgent look, like Merlin is being silly, and changes into his pajamas before climbing into bed as well. “Thank you, Merlin,” he says, soft and genuine.
“I love you, by the way,” Merlin tells him. “In case it wasn’t obvious.”
Arthur just hums, looking entirely too fond and infuriatingly cocky about it, but his eyes are gentle, understanding.
“Merlin,” Arthur says, once they’re tucked closer than they ever have been before, legs tangled under the blankets, Merlin’s thumb rubbing circles under Arthur’s tired eyes. “Would you do me the honor of helping me stage a potential company mutiny to better the lives of its workers?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Merlin says, and kisses him, slow.