Chapter Text
Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching Heathrow Airport. As we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you.
“Merlin, wake up. We’re about to land.” Arthur lightly prodded Merlin in the side.
With a short, undignified snort, Merlin opened his eyes. Cornflower blue and surrounded by a black fringe of lashes, Merlin’s eyes could slay Arthur with a glance and frequently did.
Merlin winced as he drew his long legs out of their cramped position and blinked at his surroundings as though he’d forgotten where he was. Arthur couldn’t blame him; Merlin had barely stepped off the plane from a business trip to California before he was boarding this one to London.
“Have a good nap?” Arthur asked, trepidation settling in his stomach now that the moment had arrived. Damn you, Morgana!
Merlin rubbed at his eyes and fastened his seat belt before turning to smile at Arthur. Arthur allowed himself a moment to bask in it before dropping the bomb.
“There’s something I need to tell you, and you’re not going to like it.”
The cabin pressure dropped as the plane began its descent. Below, the lights of London twinkled in the darkness, but Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin, who frowned at Arthur’s serious tone.
“What is it?”
Arthur gnawed at his bottom lip.
“Arthur?”
“It’s just…” Arthur sighed. “I promised Morgana something, and I wish I hadn’t. I just didn’t see any way around it. I’m sorry, love, but it’s her wedding. What was I supposed to say?”
“What?” Merlin’s voice took on a sour, suspicious note.
“She asked me that we not let anyone know we’re together.”
Brows as dark and graceful as raven’s wings dipped downward, and Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur rushed on before he could.
“Just until the wedding’s over. Steve’s parents are terrible homophobes—absolute berks, and she doesn’t want the wedding ruined by their over-the-top reaction to us.”
“But that’s…that’s awful! This is 2015 and we’re married, for Christ’s sake. Why should we have to pretend?”
“I know, I know.” Arthur shook his head. “I don’t like it either.”
“And added to that, why in the hell would I even go to her wedding with you? Have you thought of that?”
“Erm, yeah.” Arthur made a wry face. “Morgana told them you’re my PA.”
“Your PA! What the fuck, Arthur?” Merlin sat up even straighter in his seat. “I’m an attorney! I handled your company’s multi-million dollar screw up. If you’ll remember correctly, it’s how we met.” He shook his head. “Your PA. Why couldn’t you be my PA?”
“Because they already know I’m CEO of Pendragon Industries in the States.” As the wheels of the plane bounced onto the tarmac, Arthur put his hand over Merlin’s. “I’m sorry, Merlin. I know it’s awful.”
“It’s more than awful, it’s fucking stupid!” Merlin began muttering to himself as the plane slowed, occasionally glancing at Arthur with annoyance.
“Morgana’s been planning her wedding since she was six-years-old,” Arthur tried to explain. “She wants it to be perfect, and evidently Steve’s parents would react very badly to the news that her brother’s a homosexual.”
Merlin only grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. Arthur let him alone; he’d known how Merlin would react and couldn’t blame him; the only thing Arthur could do was let Merlin alone to process.
They didn’t speak again until they’d collected their shoulder bags from overhead and were making their way out of the plane and into the airport. Arthur was stewing a bit himself; Morgana could have found a better cover for them than making Merlin Arthur’s PA, but she’d spoken without thinking. They’d had a row about it on the phone the day before.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Merlin finally asked as they entered the airport and began the walk to baggage claim.
“You’d just returned from California, and here we were going to London. I wanted you to be able to rest.”
“You wanted to spring it on me, more like.”
Arthur rubbed his hand over his face.
“Let’s just make the best of it, yeah?”
When they’d retrieved their suitcases from the carousel, Arthur looked around.
“There’s Morgana.”
Arthur’s sister stood off to the side of the crowd, black hair pulled into a high ponytail and pretty face sans makeup. When she spotted Arthur and Merlin, she waved and walked toward them, hugging each in turn.
“I’m so sorry,” Morgana said to Merlin. “I suppose Arthur told you about the lie.”
“He did, and I have to say I’m not happy about it, Morgana. Arthur and I are married and completely out. We shouldn’t have to hide like this. I take cases on discrimination all the time—I never expected I’d be forced to hide my orientation myself.”
“I’m so sorry! I bollixed it up, too, by opening my big mouth and saying you’re Arthur’s personal assistant. I know that doesn’t sit well with you, either.”
At Morgana’s genuine look of guilty contrition and worry, Merlin took her hand and squeezed it.
“Never mind. It’s done. And I do want you to have your perfect wedding. We’ll talk payback later, yeah?” He grinned, and Morgana hugged him again.
“You’re the best, and I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you somehow.” She hooked one arm in Merlin’s and the other in Arthur’s and they stepped through the sliding doors out into the overcast day.
“What about me?” Arthur asked her as they walked toward her car, he and Merlin pulling their luggage along behind them.
“You’re my brother; you have to do as I say.”
Arthur just smiled and let Morgana lead them to her SUV.
“They’re beasts, Steve’s parents,” Morgana said as they loaded their bags in the back. “You don’t understand; these people act as though they haven’t an enlightened bone in their bodies. When I say they would react badly to your relationship, believe me, I’m putting it lightly.”
“They sound charming,” Arthur said. “Are you sure you want them for in-laws?”
“Oh, Steve’s nothing like them, I assure you; and we’ll rarely see his parents, as they live in Newcastle. I just want my wedding to be the one I’ve dreamed of. The next day, you and Merlin can snog at the breakfast table, for all I care.”
Morgana drove them to a nearby restaurant where they met Steve. Arthur had previously met the man briefly on Skype when he was at Morgana’s flat, and found him to be intelligent and friendly. Arthur really had no brotherly worries for Morgana; she could absolutely take care of herself.
“You look taller in person,” Arthur joked as he shook Steve’s hand. Steve laughed.
“You look healthier. Morgana’s laptop has colour issues. It’s stuck on a green tint, and she refuses to buy another. You’d think she was destitute rather than one of the wealthiest women in Britain.”
“Well, I didn’t get that way by chucking perfectly usable computers,” Morgana said, wrapping her arm through Steve’s. They looked good together, and Arthur thought his sister looked happier than he’d ever seen her. At that moment Arthur thought a couple days of the ruse was a small price to pay to give her the dream wedding she deserved.
“Steve, this is my husband, Merlin,” Arthur said, and Merlin stepped forward, smiling.
“Nice to meet you.” Merlin said, and they shook hands.
“I’m sorry you have to go through this silly farce,” Steve said when they were seated and had ordered drinks. He held Morgana’s hand in his. “We really hadn’t given much thought to my folks and how they might react to your relationship until the other day.” His mobile rang. “Sorry, hang on. I wouldn’t take this, but my parent’s might not be able to find the hotel.”
Arthur waved him off to take the call, and turned to Morgana.
“Arthur, you’ve said your tux fits well, right?” Morgana asked, and Arthur nodded, rolling his eyes at her because he’d told her so at least three times in the past forty-eight hours.
“The rehearsal’s tomorrow, then dinner afterward.” Morgana looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“What is it?” Arthur asked.
Morgana’s eyes flicked between her brother and brother-in-law.
“I’m so sorry, but…well, Arthur, you’re in the wedding party, so of course you’ll attend, but…”
“I think I know where this is going,” Merlin said.
“I’m sorry.” Morgana looked truly aggrieved, “but I just couldn’t think of a reason that my brother’s PA should be at the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner.”
Arthur frowned. It was one thing pretending they weren’t a couple, but to bar Merlin from the festivities didn’t sit well with him. The rehearsal was one thing—Arthur didn’t particularly look forward to that himself—but the dinner afterward?
“It’s okay,” Merlin said, putting a hand on Arthur’s leg. “Really. I have a lot of work I need to catch up on, anyway. I can stay in our hotel room and make calls. It’ll be fine.”
Merlin’s willingness to put his own feelings aside in order to smooth things over for Arthur was one of the many things Arthur loved about him. It was also one of several reasons Arthur felt Merlin didn’t deserve to be left out in this way.
“I don’t know, Morgana,” Arthur said. “Fuck, you should have just said Merlin was a friend of yours and was flying in with me. This PA thing is stupid.”
“We’ve been over this, and it’s too late now.”
Arthur could tell by his sister’s face that she regretted her hasty cover story to Steve’s parents and every slight it caused to Merlin; he took a deep breath and told himself to settle down. Merlin’s warm hand on Arthur’s thigh helped a bit.
Morgana looked to Steve, who had just ended his call.
“I told you we should have said he was a friend of mine from uni and made him a groomsman,” Steve said. “Then he could have gone to everything.”
“But he wouldn’t have a reason to interact with Arthur at all,” Morgana said. “Not to mention the fact that he wouldn’t have had time to be fitted for a tux, what with his trip to California. And I’ll bet your parents already know all your uni friends—the ones you’d consider for best man, at any rate.” Morgana shook her head. “Fuck. If this all hadn’t been so last minute…” She looked unhappily down at her plate.
The last thing Arthur wanted was for Morgana to start regretting her wedding. Merlin seemed to feel the same, for he reached across the table to pat her hand.
“Never mind, Morgana,” Merlin said. “We’ll get through this. The most important thing is you get the wedding you’ve always dreamed of. It’s only in public that we have to pretend, anyway.”
“You didn’t tell them about the hotel room?” Steve asked.
“Bugger it, no. I hadn’t gotten to it yet.” Morgana looked close to tears.
“What about the hotel room?” Arthur asked.
“It’s just…think about it, Arthur!” Morgana sat back in her chair. “There’d be no reason for you to share a room with your PA, would there? That would look very odd.”
“Great,” Arthur huffed. “You got us separate rooms. Are you sure Steve’s parents are going to be paying this much attention to us?” The muscle in Arthur’s jaw jumped. The thought of three nights in a hotel without Merlin in his bed, especially after having been without him an entire week prior, sounded like pure hell. “Surely we can get away with sharing a room without them finding out about it.”
“They’re on the same floor,” Morgana said. “All the guests are. We arranged it this way.”
“Bloody hell, Morgana!”
“Arthur,” Merlin put a hand on Arthur’s arm. “It will be fine. Really.”
Arthur turned incredulous eyes on Merlin. “No, Merlin. You were right in the first place. We shouldn’t have to do this.”
“This is your sister’s big day. We’ll never have to see Steve’s parents again,” Merlin said, running his fingers soothingly along Arthur’s thigh.
“Which is all the more reason for them to accept that we’re a couple for their son’s sake!”
“I’m afraid my parents aren’t gracious enough to be tolerant for my sake,” Steve said. “Truly, I’m embarrassed by this whole mess. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m really their son—like maybe they found me under a cabbage leaf or something…Oh, shit.”
“What?” Morgana asked. Her eyes widened as they followed Steve’s. “Steve, what are they doing here?”
“They just called. I forgot, in the midst of all this. They wanted to eat with us,” Steve rushed to say before turning to greet his parents.
Steve’s mother was a short, plump woman with hair dyed an odd shade of burgundy and a dress that, although obviously expensive, didn’t suit her at all. His father was very tall and thin with a beard a little too long to be stylish and a large silver disk threaded on black string at his throat in lieu of a tie. His shirt was a loud shade of red that clashed with his wife’s hair and frankly hurt Arthur’s eyes.
Morgana made introductions all around, and Arthur felt Merlin pulling away so as not to be seated so intimately near Arthur. That, more than anything that had happened so far, made Arthur’s blood boil, and he suddenly wondered if he would really be able to go along with the charade.
“So, Merlin is your PA, Arthur?” Steve’s mother asked. She’d told everyone to call her Denise and her husband Bud. “Morgana said you’d be bringing him along.”
Arthur glanced at Merlin and struggled to answer, while at the same time wondering why the woman hadn’t addressed the question to Merlin rather than acting like he wasn’t right there sitting between them.
“Merlin is Arthur’s right hand man, you might say,” Morgana saved Arthur by replying. “Arthur absolutely can’t do without him, can you, Arthur?”
“I can’t,” Arthur agreed truthfully. Arthur could feel the waves of annoyance rolling off Merlin at being portrayed as Arthur’s glorified secretary as well as being treated like a second class citizen.
“Must be, to bring him all the way to London with you,” Bud said, slathering a glob of honey butter on one of the rolls the waiter set in front of them and popping half of it into his mouth.
“Where I go, Merlin goes,” was all Arthur could find to say. “I see the both of you are married.” Denise eyed their wedding rings, and the four young people at the table cast surreptitious looks at one another. Arthur hadn’t thought to remove his and Merlin’s wedding bands, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure he’d be willing to do so.
“Where are your wives?” Bud asked. Steve interrupted with an obviously made up on the spot question about the reception, and the conversation turned. Arthur glanced at Merlin, who sat eating his salad with unusual concentration.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said later when they stood in front of Arthur’s hotel room door, an entire five doors that might as well have been five miles down from Merlin’s. The least Morgana could’ve done was put them side by side, but knowing his sister as Arthur did, she probably did it on purpose so Arthur and Merlin wouldn’t be as tempted to sneak around. “This is really a load of shite. I should have said no to Morgana when she proposed the whole idea, though to be fair, she only sprung this on me a couple days ago.”
“No way out of it now,” Merlin said.
“Want to come in with me?” Arthur asked. They hadn’t made love in over a week, and more than anything, Arthur wanted to hold Merlin in his arms, kiss those soft, cushiony lips, and...
“Too risky, don’t you think? Someone might see me leaving. Besides, something I ate didn’t agree with me, and I really haven’t caught up on my sleep. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
Before he could walk away, Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand and squeezed it.
“You’re angry.”
“A little.” Merlin shrugged. “But you know me; I’ll get over it.”
Arthur wanted to kiss Merlin goodnight, but the sound of approaching voices stopped him. Unhappily, he watched Merlin walk down the hall and slip into his room.
“Fuck it, Morgana,” Arthur said later when he’d rung her on the hotel phone. He sat on the bed wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, his bare feet crossed at the ankle. “This isn’t fair to Merlin at all.” Sounds of giggling and chatter on Morgana’s end furthered Arthur’s annoyance. “And what the bloody hell is going on in your room?”
“I’m having a party with my bridesmaids. They’re plying me with champagne and doing my nails.” Morgana hiccupped.
“You’re already drunk?”
“No, I’m not drunk! I just have the hiccups.”hic “I’m sorry, Arthur. Truly. I never realised what I was asking of you until tonight.” She hiccupped again. “Dinner was truly awful, wasn’t it?”
That was an understatement. Listening to that buffoon go on about every dollar he spent on their recent vacation to Spain was sickening. Arthur sighed. He had to keep reminding himself why he was doing this.
“I can see what you’re up against, I guess. When Bud said he bet the waiter was one of those shirt-biting faggots, I thought Merlin was going to go berserk.”
“I really owe him. Both of you.” hic “Steve and I were talking, and we thought perhaps the two of you would like to take a second honeymoon in his chalet in the Swiss Alps. The magazine owns it, actually. Anytime you want, just let us know.”
“Well, that may go a ways in smoothing things over with Merlin, I guess. Okay, I’ll let you get back to your little soiree. Don’t get too pissed—you’ll look like hell tomorrow.”
“See you at breakfast, Arthur. Downstairs at eight-thirty. Oh, a stripper! Bye, Arthur.”
Arthur rang off. He sent a text to Merlin about breakfast and ended it with several hearts plus a lewd post script of pointing fingers and okay signs followed by eggplants and fists. He knew everything was okay when Merlin sent back a line of round-mouthed faces followed by a rooster.