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Merlin’s hands were shaking and sweating and itching with the need to move, tidy, clean.He could feel the tears building behind his eyes, threatening to spill onto his cheeks, and there was only one way he could stop them. He wanted, needed to get up and leave, do what had to be done, but he couldn’t. Not with this.
It was an essay he should have done over weekend, three thousand words, due the day after tomorrow. If only he hadn’t gone out with the others. Or rather, if only Arthur hadn’t asked him to go out, begged him, and given him that look. The look that made Merlin’s insides go to jelly.
Arthur was here now, watching from the other side of their room as Merlin’s shaking hands skated over the desk, searching for something unknown before he clenched them into fists and pulled them back to his chest. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his forehead, letting out a shaky breath.
Arthur was behind him in an instant, hands warm and firm on Merlin’s shoulders, gently pulling him away from the desk. For a second, Merlin let himself lean back into it, let the warmth spread down his arms and his chest. He wanted to let go, to collapse against Arthur and fucking cry, even though he was eighteen and too old to be crying over school work, and he’d known Arthur for less than a month. He pulled away, ignoring the way Arthur’s fingers tightened briefly before letting him go. Merlin sighed, resting his head against the cool wooden desk and closing his eyes.
***
“Merlin.”
The voice shocked him awake. He sat up too quickly and had to steady himself, blinking rapidly as his vision swirled. It was a few moments before he registered the warmth on the back of his neck. He reached and let his fingers brush against Arthur’s, breath hitching in his throat.
“W-what time is it?” he asked shakily, dropping his hand back to the desk, not looking at Arthur.
“About seven,” he answered, squeezing lightly before removing his hand. Merlin felt cold without it.
“I need to do my essay,” Merlin mumbled, trying to turn back to the hibernating laptop. Arthur stopped him.
“Why don’t we just hang out tonight?” he suggested, flopping down onto his bed. Merlin hesitated for a moment, before shaking his head.
“I can’t.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said gently, “you can.” Merlin opened his mouth to protest but Arthur didn’t let him speak. “You have tomorrow and the day after to do this essay, and you’re not going to get anything done in this state. You’ve already completely cleaned the room twice, and I can see how much you want to do it again.” Merlin felt his cheeks colour at Arthur’s words, even though they weren’t unkind. He was smiling sadly, as though he understood exactly what the problem was. He probably did know what the problem was, though Merlin knew he could never understand no matter how hard he tried. They had never talked about it properly, but Merlin was certain Arthur knew the truth.
Arthur must have seen Merlin’s flushed cheeks, because he took a step closer, frowning. Merlin forced himself to smile. “You’re probably right,” he admitted.
Arthur smiled then, a proper smile that lit up the whole room. “Alcohol, then.”
Merlin rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue, which was enough for Arthur. He reached behind his bed and pulled out a bottle of Smirnoff vodka. Merlin wrinkled his nose.
“Vodka’s gross,” he mumbled.
Arthur snorted. “You would say that,” he laughed. “I’ll see if they have some juices in the kitchens. Maybe we can make cocktails.” He winked, laughing again. “Don’t tell the others though, they’ll say we’re girls.”
“We are girls.”
“I’m definitely a guy, and I hope you are too.” With that he left, leaving Merlin standing in the middle of the room, essay forgotten, wondering if Arthur meant anything by his last sentence or if it was just stupid, wishful thinking.
***
A few hours later they were lying on a bed – Merlin couldn’t remember whose it was – watching The Avengers. Somehow they had ended up pressed together from shoulder to knee, Arthur’s foot brushing Merlin’s ankle.
Merlin hiccupped. “Captain ‘Merica’s really hot,” he giggled as the credits started to roll. He turned his head towards Arthur, who snorted.
“Gwen said I look like him once,” he grinned, poking Merlin in the stomach where his shirt had ridden up. Merlin paused for a moment, thinking.
“A bit,” he conceded, eyes drifting closed. “B’not much. You’d look nice in the suit though. Nice bum.” He started giggling again, rolling closer to Arthur and letting his hand rest on Arthur’s stomach, fingers splaying out over his thin, faded red t-shirt.
It was a while before Arthur spoke again, and when he did his voice was deeper, more careful, as though reality had caught up to him. “You’re drunk.”
“’M not!” Merlin sat up, sliding his hand up to Arthur’s chest. “M’very sober. No drunkness. None.” He swallowed down another hiccup, smile threatening to spread over his face. “Well maybe a little bit,” he admitted, shuffling closer. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine!”
“You weren’t fine earlier,” Arthur pointed out. Merlin thought he sounded smug.
“No, I wasn’t. But s’fine now. Cocktails fixed me.”
Merlin’s eyes drifted to Arthur’s neck, where the Adam’s apple was bobbing as Arthur swallowed. Merlin wanted to lick it, but didn’t want to move. He settled for burying his face in Arthur’s shirt instead.
“You know what was wrong though, right?”
“Essay,” he huffed, shuffling closer. He didn’t want to think about the essay, and Arthur was warm.
“Essays don’t make me want to clean things,” Arthur pointed out. He would never say something like that sober, Merlin thought.
“Mum said it was OCD,” Merlin said. “But I dunno. S’annoying.” He hooked his leg over Arthur’s, trying to get closer. He felt Arthur freeze next to him, felt him start to pull away. Panic started to rise in his chest. “Don’t go!” he said urgently, clenching his fist in Arthur’s shirt. “Just wanna cuddle. You’re warm.”
Arthur nodded, and let his hand rest against the small of Merlin’s back. It was hot on his skin where his shirt had ridden up. He shivered and snuggled closer. He knew Arthur was smiling, even though he couldn’t see him.
They were quiet for a few minutes, and Merlin nearly fell asleep to the sound of Arthur’s heartbeat.
“You’re gay, aren’t you?” Merlin opened his eyes, blinking sleepily up at Arthur. He propped himself up on one elbow.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” he giggled, winking. He was surprised when Arthur started blushing.
“I’m gay too,” Arthur said simply.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Merlin asked. Something had changed in the atmosphere. He was feeling slightly more sober now; less silly, though just as daring. His heart was beating faster than normal somewhere up in his throat, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands anymore. He twitched his fingers, knowing Arthur would feel it, would remember him there.
“No.”
Merlin nearly laughed with relief. He settled for smiling and tucking himself into Arthur’s side again. “Good,” he mumbled, grinning. He felt Arthur smile again.
“Do you?” Arthur asked, starting to rub his thumb along the back of Merlin’s hip. It made him shiver.
“No,” he scoffed. “Never have. I’ve never done anything with anyone.” He didn’t know why he’d said that, but he didn’t really care.
“Why?” Arthur asked, frowning.
“S’no-one that wants me.” Merlin sniffed theatrically, though he couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face at the feeling of Arthur pulling him in closer. Nothing was said, but the meaning was clear.
A few more minutes passed, and Merlin was starting to relax into the rhythm of Arthur’s breathing when he spoke again.
“Go out with me?”
Merlin froze, chest suddenly tight. The seconds ticked by, but he couldn’t move.
Four words. Four words that had set his heart racing so hard and fast that he could feel it in his neck and his fingertips. Four words that were so much simpler than he had imagined; so much easier but worth so, so much more.
He blinked and sat up. Arthur was biting his lip and frowning, and Merlin realised that he still hadn’t answered. He smiled, letting it grow from a small, shy quirk of his lips to a full-face grin.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, then leaned down and pressed his lips against Arthur’s.
Arthur was quick to respond, catching Merlin’s bottom lip between his own and trailing his hands up Merlin’s back, pulling his shirt up. Merlin got caught up in the heady rush as he was bombarded with the feeling of Arthur’s hands on his back and his tongue on his lips. Giddy excitement mixed with nervousness, but he was sure that he’d never been more turned on in his life. Somehow he found himself straddling Arthur’s thighs, shirt pushed up to his chest and Arthur’s mouth on his neck, and suddenly everything caught up with him.
He pulled back, eyes wide and shocked.
Arthur paused, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, squeezing Merlin’s waist. “Did I do something wrong?”
Merlin shook his head, but let go of Arthur to pull his shirt down. Arthur looked hurt.
“It’s not you,” he started stupidly.
Arthur sighed, frustrated. “It’s not you, it’s me, right?”
“Shut up, Arthur,” Merlin sighed. “I’ve never done anything. With anyone. You’re the second person I’ve ever kissed, and the first was a girl I didn’t even like. I…don’t know how to do…anything. At all. I just.” He sighed. “Forget it.” He felt stupid and hurt, and he started to climb away from Arthur and off the bed. Arthur stopped him.
“I had no idea,” he said, shaking his head. If I’d known I would have gone slower, I swear. I would have…” he trailed off, looking lost. Merlin shrugged and turned his head away, humiliation burning on his face.
“Don’t worry about it,” Merlin muttered. “S’fine.”
He didn’t move to get off the bed, simply sitting there in dejected silence. He started smoothing out the creases in the sheets, fingers itching to do something. He straightened the pillow at the end of the bed, and pulled the duvet so that the corners were matching but they still itching, still burned to work, to tidy, to clean until he couldn’t remember what just happened. He made to get up, to sort out the desk again, but Arthur grabbed his hand.
“Tomorrow?” he asked.
Merlin blinked. “What?”
“Are you free tomorrow? At seven?”
“Yes?” he said hesitantly, though it was more of a question than a statement. He didn’t know what was going on.
Arthur smiled, though he looked unsure. “I’m taking you out on a date.”
Merlin smiled, then. His fingers stopped burning and the tears went away and he smiled, lying back down on the bed with Arthur, chasing after his warmth.
***
The day went by quickly, Merlin and Arthur skating around each other, nervous and unsure, neither mentioning what was to happen later in the day though somehow acknowledging it nonetheless.
As the afternoon drew to a close, the nerves that were so familiar to Merlin made an appearance, and the need to tidy was too great to ignore.
Suddenly it was seven o’clock exactly, and Merlin wasn’t ready. He didn’t know when it had gotten so late - he’d been too wrapped up in dusting and vacuum cleaning to notice the time. Arthur had disappeared sometime around six with a promise to return later, leaving Merlin to stress about his first ever date alone.
There was no time to shower now, he knew, and cursed his luck. It wasn’t as if he was dirty, having washed once in the morning and again after lunch, but he could almost feel the layer of dust clinging to his skin and it made him uncomfortable. He ignored it, and started picking out an outfit.
There was a knock on the door just as he finished tying his shoelace, and for a second he wondered if Arthur had known he was finishing, had been watching him getting ready. He didn’t want to know the answer.
Arthur looked gorgeous. He grinned at Merlin, pulling him into a hug that lasted too long for just friends.
“You ready to go?” he asked, stepping back to rake his eyes over Merlin’s body. Merlin felt himself blush.
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. Arthur squeezed his hand.
***
The walked back to their room slowly, neither wanting the night to be over. Arthur had taken him to a restaurant off campus, then to the cinema, where they watched something Merlin probably would have liked if Arthur hadn’t distracted him by drawing invisible patterns on the back of his hand. On the way back to their room they went to Starbucks, and Arthur bought Merlin a hot chocolate. He laughed when Merlin got cream on his nose and lips, but got most of it off with his thumb. The rest came off with his lips.
Merlin knew it had been the best night of his life, and he told Arthur so when they arrived at their door. Arthur laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. It was chaste and gentle but set Merlin’s heart racing. He leaned forward, searching for more, but Arthur pulled away with a smile.
“Not tonight,” he whispered, and although Merlin felt the loss of contact now, the promise of more sent a thrill up his spine. He couldn’t help but smile again. He stole one more kiss then nodded and opened the door, effectively bringing their date to a close.
***
Merlin couldn’t sleep. How could he, when Arthur was right there with his golden hair and soft lips and warm bed.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispered, sitting up in his bed. There was a beat of silence, then:
“Yeah?”
Merlin took a moment to try and still his nerves. When that failed, he continued anyway. He threw back the duvet and padded barefoot across the room to where Arthur was lying.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asked sleepily, rolling over to face him.
“I want to kiss you,” Merlin said firmly, climbing into the bed.
And he did.
And Arthur kissed back.
They broke away a few minutes later, breathless and sweaty. Merlin was so turned on, embarrassingly hard, and he could feel that Arthur was too – more so that he was. He swallowed thickly and rolled away.
“Just kissing,” he said breathlessly, and Arthur nodded.
“Just kissing,” he agreed, though his voice was deep and hoarse.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t–” Arthur cut him off with another kiss, softer this time, less urgent.
“Don’t worry, Merlin, okay? Don’t worry. We have time. Tonight we can kiss.”