Chapter Text
Friday June 20th 2010
It isn’t so hard to hide as one might think. Being the crown prince Arthur stands tall, suit jacket clad shoulders straight and ironed, he wears his hair back in a golden swoop and always, always has a swarm of people around him. Body guards, royal family members, press. Always a swirl of public appearances to open this school or visit these sick children.
It’s surprising how much people don’t look when he’s a solitary figure. The biggest thing, Arthur reckons is that they just don’t expect to see him so they don’t. Having his hair swept down, a slight slouch and even a pair of tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose all make any second looks avert. Still it’s a risk, of course it is. Every time he comes he sees the headlines flash before him “Royal secretly gay?” “Prince Arthur never destined for an heir” etc etc, okay so Arthur isn’t very creative, he’s not in journalism school, it’s fine.
It had been a few weeks without visiting, a few soul killing, duty filled weeks. Don’t get him wrong, he takes his responsibilities very seriously, but with the Tories having been voted in only last month it is sure to leave him listless. Theres only so much he can do.
This however, bopping anonymously through the crowd at Heaven, where he’s more likely to come face to face with a drag queen than paparazzi is better. It’s enough, right now.
Something to know about Arthur? He can dance, and will, can, will, does. So when California Gurls comes on with a heavy beat Arthur closes his eyes and moves to the frankly intoxicating song. Hey in this moment maybe he is a Califoria Gurl? He is at one with sun-kissed skin, so hot, we’ll melt your popsicle, when hands politely come up to his upper arms. With a brief look back at someone handsome with a dark scruff and eyes twinkling under the flashing pink lights Arthur has gravitated towards, he evaluates that this touch is welcome and leans back into the hot chest of his new dance companion.
No sooner than Rude Boy starts blasting does Arthur start rocking his body in time with his mysterious stranger.
He hears a warm chuckle at his ear and hands coming up to his waist. “Someone’s enjoying the view.”
Arthurs feigns ignorance, smirking to himself in the near darkness. He lets his gaze raise to where through a layer of dancers is the real reason Arthurs Fridays are preoccupied with this specific gay bar. As the dance floor lights flash the bartenders face comes in and out of view, eyes almost golden in flashes.
If Arthur always ends up dancing in view of the bar that’s his business, and well, maybe also Merlins.
“Maybe I’ll get a drink.” Arthur near shouts over the beating music.
“Want me to-“ The perfect stranger begins to ask.
“Best not.” Arthur replies distractedly, already moving through the crowd.
I got you all figured out,
You need everyones eyes just to feel seen,
Behind your makeup,
Nobody knows who you even are,
Who do you think that you are?
When Arthur presses his stomach to the bar, already leaning into Merlins space he sees that the bartenders lips are moving to the song, not that he can hear the soft lilt of Merlins voice over all the noise.
“Merlin.” Arthur says half trying for nonchalance and half knowing he can’t help the intensity they seem to have.
Merlins eyes finally lift from the glass he’s cleaning, he looks cheeky even as he says it, “Hi Christopher.”
Arthur rolls his eyes, “Wrong and offensive.”
Merlin laughs, “Offensive, how so?”
“Do I really look like a Christopher?” Arthur drawls, slight grimace to his pouting upper lip.
“Sort of.. You could always tell me you know.” Merlin says, wiggling his dark brows.
Arthur simply smiles, “Guess better.”
“I can keep a secret.” He says, leaning closer across the bar, this close they don’t have to shout quite so loudly.
“You couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it.” Arthur sighs dramatically.
Merlin laughs genuinely, more than the comment should elicit which leads Arthur to believe he’s a bad flirter. “And how would you know that?”
“I can tell, from your-“ He gestures up and down Merlins body. “Impish charm, your innocence, I can just tell.”
Merlins brows raise behind his dark slightly curling hair, “Innocent he says.”
Arthur purses his lips, fighting the heat he can feel rising to his cheeks. Hopefully the lighting covers that. “Are you going to serve me?” He asks as rudely as he can muster.
Merlin laughs, the mint on his breath fills the air between them which Arthur can’t help but breathe in. The electronic beat of Black Eyed Peas I gotta feeling seems to vibrate Arthur from his boots up.
“Alright pompous arse, that your name?” Merlin faux considers, “What do you want tonight.”
“No that is not my name thank you very much. And surprise me.” Arthur says with as much arrogance as he can muster.
“Okay handsome, be right back.” Merlin says, smile crooked and so perfect Arthur clenches his hands against the sticky counter in hopes of grounding himself.
Merlin turns around and as much as Arthur hates to see him leave, oh he loves to watch him go, or however the saying goes. Merlins wide shoulders lead down to a slim little waist that has Arthur perfectly enchanted. His deepest desire is not as some may assume his rising to king, but in fact encircling that tight waist with his hands.
Not paying attention to what Merlins actually doing has him at a loss when he turns around with a foul concoction.
“Really? A Jägerbomb?” Arthur asks incredulously.
“What? we’re not exactly a cocktail bar.” Merlin makes a show of raising his eyebrows like a teacher silencing their class with just their gaze.
Arthur doesn’t deem that worthy of a response and instead evaluates the glass of redbull with a shot of Jägermeister floating innocuously in it.
“Heres to nothing,” Arthur mutters, cheersing Merlin before downing the glass.
“Sexy that like.” Merlin says, smile all over his face.
“Oh really?” Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yea Andrew, especially the dribble left on your t-shirt.” Merlin says making a show of looking down at Arthurs body.
Arthur rolls his eyes, looking down and finding nothing. “Not my name fuck you very much.”
“Aw Arnold I would if you asked me more politely.”
Arthur swallows, both at the obvious flirt and at the closeness to his real name regardless of the fact practically no one is named Arnold.
“Right.” Arthur says coughing.
Merlin just stands there with a cheeky little smile, a perfect cheeky little smile. Arthur is so gone.
Merlin leans across the counter to speak into Arthurs ear “Our luck is up.” Promptly scooting back and moving along the bar and turning to serve a fast growing queue, his face falls into a mask of politeness, nothing like the electricity he shows Arthur.
Feeling wrong footed from suddenly having Merlins warm voice against his ear to just as suddenly standing alone, Arthur sighs. He’s not even tipsy, not that he can get tipsy in public, a gay bar no less. No he needs to have his wits about him, which he distinctly does not have around Merlin.
He ponders whether leaning against the bar and waiting for Merlin to be done serving others is just a bit too pathetic but convinces himself that perhaps being nonchalant isn’t getting him anywhere and how actually he’d like to take Merlin home finally.
Once the crowd has disbanded, Merlin looks to him with what can only be a knowing look. That’s the thing about Merlin he feels more familiar than he ought to, like he knows. Perhaps not about his being the crown prince but more him as a self. As a person. Ridiculous notions like this will get him outed to the press by someone he doesn’t really know at all but… but no, not Merlin. Not the man sliding up to him with an icy glass of water and a wink.
“This’ll help you hold your liquor.”
Arthur scoffs because Merlin very well knows he doesn’t drink much and that being a customer is a facade at best.
“Yes well, thank you Merlin, I was a bit thirsty, something to do with that awful drink you made earlier I’m sure.” Arthur knows his eyes are smiling but can’t quite control them.
Merlin just smiles and leans on the bar with two elbows watching as Arthur downs the cold water. When finished their eyes meet, something slow and warm comes over their little section of the club, like the volume goes down and strobing lights glow. All arthur can feel is the vibration on the beat in the air and the gaze he’s trapped in.
“Do you know?” Arthur can’t help but ask.
“I know many things.” Merlin says, grin slanted and cheeky.
“Who I am Merlin, do you know?” Arthur pushes on, needing confirmation suddenly very badly.
“A pain in my arse.” Merlin chuckles to himself, eyes dancing.
Arthur doesn’t deem that worthy of a response, caught still in the moment.
An understanding passes between them. “Yes, Arthur of course I do.” Merlins says, more seriously, almost heavily.
Arthur despite somehow knowing this already, startles, shifting his gaze to those closest.
“No, it’s not obvious. Don’t worry your pretty little head.” Merlins smile is a reassuring little thing, just an upturn at the corners of his lips.
“You go along with it?” Arthur smiles privately, “Why?”
“Because dear Arthur, it’s a secret. I’m very good at keeping those.” Merlin catches Arthurs hand where he was worriedly picking his lip. It’s not something he’s in the habit of doing and is glad to have been nipped in the bud. Merlins large hand is like a bracelet around his wrist.
“What other secrets do you keep?” Arthur asks, voice quiet and unsure.
“Ah, well.” Merlin lets go, resting his hands on the sticky counter. “I have a few of my own, and I have been entrusted with many over the years.”
“You know mine, it’s only fair…?” Arthur lets his words hang between them.
“I think this is not the place.” Merlin says not unkindly.
But then, the funniest thing happens, his eyes, yes they really did that, they glow gold in the darkness for a moment. Arthur feels blindsided but then notices a cloth making its way around the counter, with nothing to make it do so.
“A magician.” Arthur says, eyebrows raised, watching for a string or? Something.
Merlin scoffs, “If you say so.”
“I never realised magicians could be hot.” Arthur ponders, half meaning to keep the thought to himself.
Merlin grins at him. “Leave with me?”
“Your shift?” Arthur asks, surprised.
“Over.” Merlin replies dismissively.
He has a sneaking suspicion it’s not but Merlin doesn’t seem to care as he makes his way around the bar until they’re stood toe to toe.
“You don’t fancy dancing?” Arthur hedges.
“Arthur.” Merlin looks like he’s biting back a smile.
“Right, yes, your place?” Arther asks.
“Considering yours is what? A palace? Sure, my place.” Merlin smirks as he speaks and it’s awfully endearing to Arthur.
They go out the back, no one seems to care enough to stop them. Suddenly it’s dark with the semi-distant orange glow of a streetlamp but it’s the clearest Arthurs ever seen Merlin. He stills.
“Merlin?” Arthur says under his breath and pushes Merlin back against the brick wall with one large hand to his shoulder. Merlin goes with it.
Arthur doesn’t hesitate, the meeting of their mouths feels centuries in the making, somehow the taste of mint on Merlins breath aches deep in Arthurs soul, breathing into each others mouths more than kissing until Arthur feels wetness swipe his upper lip. Merlins hands come up to cradle Arthurs face, impossibly warm and tender in the nights chill.
Distantly Arthur imagines what the paparazzi pictures would look like but the thought only makes his burn more, claimed as he feels by this silly charming impossible man.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to come out to the public, if it were for Merlin. Maybe it would turn the tides, maybe they’d finally vote in gay marriage. Maybe even as a puppet Arthur has power of persuasion. He should use it more.
These thoughts are fast and fleeting, because soon all he can think of is the hot touch of tongue against tongue. His hands are listlessly roaming Merlins stomach and chest, and Merlin? He’s completely in control, fast and deep with his kisses, almost too desperate.
The heady rush of blood fogs out everything beside Merlins touch, his mouth, his hands still cradling Arthurs face, where their stomachs are pressed together. All of it. Arthurs never lost himself like this before. He thinks even in the multiverse surely he’s never been kissed better.
“Mer-“ Arthur gasps into his mouth.
“Who me?” Merlin asks smiling against Arthurs slick lips.
Arthur hums, unable to think straight. He pulls back reluctantly, the space between them is immediately too much but Arthur can’t bring himself to do anything more when he meets Merlins eyes.
Without the loud bass vibrating, without the lights strobing across Merlins gorgeous face, time truly stills. Out on this unexpectedly still quiet alley, the city that never sleeps proving to be wrong for once in Arthurs life.
“Who are you Merlin?” Arthur whispers.
A smile. “This is not how I thought we’d be meeting again sire.” Merlin says breathlessly.