Chapter Text
Arthur was, frankly, incredibly annoyed with Merlin at the moment.
“You have this amazing voice, and you’re wasting it on bloody backup vocals!” he protested, waving an accusatory hand at him.
The man himself, Merlin, looked resigned. His cheeks were flushed from his latest singing session, his eyes bright with passion but looking at Arthur with thinly veiled impatience.
“And Arthur, I’ve told you a million times; I’m not ready for the big stage, or any stage really. It’s hard enough already singing only to you,” he said.
Arthur sighed.
“I get that, and I appreciate you for sharing your incredible talent with me. But, as the only person to ever hear your singing voice, I know it deserves to be shared,” Arthur insisted. “Trust me, you won’t grow as a singer unless you put yourself out there, Merlin, please.”
Merlin sulked, a pout bringing out further his pronounced cheekbones.
“You’re biased.”
“Absolutely.”
Merlin sighed.
“...I’ll think about it,” he said quietly, and Arthur lit up.
“Haha yes! I can’t wait to hear your debut song; I’m sure it’ll be as amazing as you are,” he exclaimed, clapping Merlin on the back.
For the next few weeks, during rehearsals, Arthur would cast Merlin knowing looks which were always met with a dead stare, his hands limp on his keyboard. But after Arthur missed his guitar cue one too many times and got kicked in the shins by an irate Leon, he stopped and took to bugging him openly about it after rehearsal ended and Leon and Gwaine had gone home for the day.
It was on one of these occasions that something…happened.
“Come on Merlin, let me listen to the song!” he pestered.
“I already told you, Arthur, there is no song,” Merlin sighed, pinching his nose as though dealing with a pesky headache. “I told you I’d think about it.”
“I know you Merlin, and I just know you have a song brewing up in that pretty little head of yours; just waiting to come out~,” Arthur said, sing-song-like. Merlin flushed.
“I do not. There is no song,” he insisted, and Arthur could tell his patience was growing thin.
“Pleeeaaaase, Merlin,” Arthur begged, because he knew, just by the look in Merlin’s blue-grey eyes, that he had an idea.
“Arthur--”
“Come on, we both know that--”
“ Arthur !” Merlin’s voice rose sharply, eyebrows arching down in anger. He stood up and turned to leave. “For God’s sake, just leave me alone!”
“But--”
“I said, leave me alone!” the door slammed shut behind him.
Staring at the closed door, Arthur felt like he’d just lost something.
He and Merlin had always been close, since the beginning of his time with the band. Upon first look, the man who’d answered their call for a keyboardist didn’t look like much. Big ears, lanky, a messy head of black hair. But as they’d gotten to know each other better, everyone, but especially Arthur, realized that he was a perfect fit. Not only with his playing skills but also just as a part of the group.
He, Gwaine and Leon all tended to be stubborn, hot-headed, and sometimes reckless. For a while Leon was seen as the calmest out of all of them, and he tried to keep Gwaine and Arthur out of trouble, but even he had his moments.
But Merlin…Merlin had leveled them all out.
He had a good head on his shoulders, and could somehow manage to keep all of them from doing truly stupid things. You’d think this would make him seem like a hard-ass, but he could joke and laugh right along with them at any given moment, and sometimes he even participated in their stunts. Only in moderation though.
He quickly became a beloved member of the band, both by its members and by their many fans.
So why…why was Merlin so afraid to sing?
As Arthur sat in the empty studio, he suddenly remembered the first time he stepped out onto a stage.
It had been at their first gig, back when the band was only him and Leon in a beat up punch buggy. They’d been preparing for weeks, had been so excited when a place finally reached out to them after seeing their youtube videos that they practiced their pieces until Arthur got blisters. He was so excited, and he felt so ready…until they were in the green room back stage. He’d downed at least three ginger ales and maybe a couple shots too before he was ready to go out there.
And that had only been for an audience of about thirty people. If Merlin decided to start singing for the band now, he’d be singing at a live show in front of thousands .
Arthur sighed and dropped his head between his knees. He needed to apologize, or else he feared he might lose his best friend.
He quickly left the studio, bucket hat securely over his blonde hair and black mask covering the lower half of his face. It was pretty late at night, so he doubted anyone would see him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He’d had one too many instances where he had to run around for hours because some fans decided to follow him everywhere he went. He would really rather not repeat that--his legs had ached for days afterwards.
Taking the southbound line, he made his way through the streets of London towards where he knew Merlin’s apartment was, determination in his bones.
The road leading to Merlin’s apartment block was cobbled, streetlamps sticking out from the bumpy surface and casting a soft yellow glow on the stone. The houses and small apartment complexes on either side of the road were colorfully painted, flower boxes sticking out of some windows and flags showing in others. It all seemed so perfectly…Merlin.
Truth be told, Arthur had never been inside Merlin’s apartment before. He just knew where it was from the countless times he’d come to pick him up for rehearsal only to see him at the window, giving him the five minute signal on his fingers as he furiously brushed his teeth.
He was home; his window showed a warm light on and forest green curtains. Arthur pulled out his phone.
[Arthur] Look outside
[...]
[Merlin] Arthur…
Arthur stared up at Merlin’s window, waiting with bated breath. Merlin could easily pull his curtains across and refuse to speak to Arthur, and then he didn’t know what he’d do.
But Merlin appeared at the window, phone in hand, looking down at the street below him. When he saw Arthur, he shook his head exasperatedly, and pulled his phone up to start typing.
[Merlin] Come on up you twat
Arthur couldn’t stop himself from grinning, and let Merlin buzz him inside.
His apartment was exactly how Arthur thought it would look like. Bookshelves line the wall of the small sitting area, some of the books they contained looking as though they were family heirlooms or something. Also in the sitting room were two large reading chairs with soft brown upholstery, a tall standing lamp, and in one corner, a keyboard stood next to a plush looking couch. Merlin had a pot of hot water boiling on the stove in a red kettle, the same color as the scarf hanging on his coat rack in the entryway. Herbs and cooking tools hung on a rack above the vinyl countertops in the kitchen. Rugs carpeted the floor, and band posters from other bands and even their own covered the walls. It was very homey.
But now wasn’t the time to admire the decor. He’d come for a reason. And Merlin was sitting across from him with a slightly pissed off look.
“I’ve really made a mess of things haven’t I,” he said,
“You have,” Merlin said.
“Merlin I am so sorry,” Arthur began, and Merlin sighed,
“Arthur, if this is some half-assed apology--”
“It’s not half-assed; at least I hope it’s not,” Arthur said in a rush, pausing for a moment to worry if the apology he had been stewing over the whole way over here was adequate enough.
“...Go on then,” Merlin said quietly.
“I am so sorry,” Arthur continued, starting right where he had left off. “I never took your feelings into account. I never thought about the pressure you must be feeling. I’m used to singing in front of a large crowd by now, but you’ve never done it before! And it never even crossed my mind!” he rambled on, faster now that he’d started for real, frantic to show Merlin the depth of his guilt. “I should never have pestered you like that, I was way out of line, and I promise that it’ll never happen again as long as I live--Merlin, I’m really sorry --”
The tea kettle whistled.
Merlin stood up quickly and moved into his kitchen, not giving Arthur a moment to gauge his reaction. He could see nothing but Merlin’s slender back and the cropped black hair at the base of his neck.
“Merlin…?” he said slowly.
Merlin stopped, tea kettle in hand.
And then he snorted and turned around, the sweetest smile on his lips.
“You know I can’t stay mad at you,” he smiled, and Arthur’s heart soared.
“Thank you Merlin,” he sighed, sinking into his chair.
“Now, what tea do you want; herbal or herbal?” he asked, not waiting for a response before dropping matching teabags in matching mugs and bringing them to the small sitting room table.
The atmosphere around them was comfortable now, and conversation came easy as it always did with them. They talked and laughed and kept talking, and the hours ran away from them until Arthur suddenly remembered that he had to sleep at some point that night and his house was across the city.
“Oh crosses, what time is it,” he yelped, pulling out his phone and checking the time. Good God, was it nearly 1 am?! “Merlin I have to go--”
Merlin looked up from his own phone and shook his head.
“Arthur, even the late train left well over twenty minutes ago,” he said. “Unless you fancy walking, you’re not getting home tonight.”
Arthur hung his head between his knees.
“Uuugh,” he groaned. “Do I really have to get a hotel tonight?”
Merlin gave him a look.
“You can just sleep on my couch,” he said nonchalantly, and when Arthur raised an eyebrow he shrugged. “Why spend money on a stupid hotel when you’re already here?”
“Really?” Arthur asked, “You’d let me stay over?”
Merlin gave him a small smile.
“It’s not a big deal Arthur,” he said quietly.
But as Arthur lay swaddled in blankets on Merlin’s couch, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside, he realized that it was in fact, a very big deal .
The thought of Merlin, asleep in the room next to him, made color rush to Arthur’s cheeks; the only reason he could think up for this reaction was that this was the first time he’d ever been over at his apartment, and Merlin had immediately been kind enough to offer his home for the night. This had to be the reason for his embarrassment--nothing else…Nothing else.