Work Text:
“You need to stop whatever the hell this is.”
Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes as he said this, frustration crawling across his body and mixing with an ache of disappointment. He folded his arms across his chest, trying to maintain control. This wasn't the first time this topic had come across their arguments; the existence of it was a constant grating against their relationship. The ruse had been Arthur’s idea, Merlin strictly opposing the farce.
Arthur had been in Merlin's life forever, it felt. Since middle school, the two had been inseparable, the boys meeting in their shared English class. Arthur, the pompous, athletic brute who karted all over the world, loudly declaring in Maths that he was aiming for Formula One, and Merlin, the weird kid with the ears and opinions.
Merlin pivoted to rush away from Arthur, huffing and cursing beneath his breath, inaudible to the other boy, his fumbling steps turning silent as he crossed to the carpet of the living room. Fuck the ruse, Merlin thought.
“Come on, Merlin, you know I have to do it. It's not like Formula Three is the most accepting batch of lads; they'll destroy me if they know.” Merlin kept the blonde at his back. Arthur followed the other boy, lifting his hands off his sides and letting them fall back loudly, exasperated. “I don't know why you're so pissed about th-” Arthur's sentence was promptly cut off.
“Well, I don't care, Arthur. You shouldn't have made up some stupid girlfriend just to race stupid cars!” Merlin yelled as he quickly rotated to face Arthur. His eyes watered against his will. Merlin's eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth twisted into a harsh downturn. Arthur took a step back from the other boy.
This was the last straw for their relationship, he thought, the last row they would have, he knew it, could feel it in his bones. A smooth sense of anger lodged itself in Merlin. A sense of finality flushed through him. Tears began to flow down his face, his eyes stinging and his eyelids blinking, trying to stop the drops from falling.
“I'm not ‘making a girlfriend up’, Gwen agreed to help me! They’ll never let me into Formula One if they think I'm gay. Gwen’s helping cover it up because she knows how important this is to me.” A look of resentment came across Arthur's face, a harsh tone crept into his voice, “Which you clearly don't!” Arthur’s fists clenched at his sides.
Merlin stilled, staring Arthur down at his statement. The blonde paused, frozen in place, before visibly returning to anger.
“If I don't mean enough to you for you to stop the ruse, then just tell me.” A defeated tone slid into his voice, his face falling, head shaking, exhausted.
“Fine! I will!- I care more about my future in racing than you.” Arthur yelled. His eyes were narrow, full of malice. Merlin looked into the other boy’s eyes.
Both froze at the sentiment shouted, Arthur taking a second longer to realize what he had said. The living room was silent except for the humming of the radiator and the audible breathing of the two panting in anger. The house creaked as if sensing the conflict radiating in the house. Merlin imagined the house falling on them in this moment, a symbol of the relationship crumbling before his eyes. He imagined the beams falling onto his head, the roof collapsing into one big pile, entombing Merlin in his own mess.
“I thought you were my future!” Merlin shouted, face contorting, eyes streaming with tears.
“Merlin I-” Arthur started. Merlin didn't hear the rest of the sentence, halfway through storming out of the house into the cold. He could feel the salt in the tears streaming down his face. His breath came fast and hard.
“Call me when you ‘break up’, Arthur,” Merlin yelled over his shoulder before shutting the door, actively stopping Arthur from saying whatever the hell he was going to say. Merlin was never going to get that call. He knew in his heart that it was done. Arthur was going to go on without him. Arthur was going to go on and get into Formula One and get everything he ever wanted, and Merlin would be here. Here in front of Arthur’s house, for eternity.
Merlin paused when he got outside the door, standing on the wet cobblestone of the entryway. He closed his eyes, tears cold and wet against his face. He leaned back against the hardwood of the closed door, hands flat against the frigid grain of it. He could see his exhales puffing out into the air. It was over. Fuck. It was over.
-
5 years later
-
Merlin hummed as he sprayed the countertops, a playlist of light jazz sliding through the speakers of the TV in the coffee shop. The soothing music melded with the soft and low chatter that floated through the air, creating a serene atmosphere that glided through the shop.
Merlin had opened the coffee shop a year ago with his brother Will, opening it in the small city-state of Monaco in a prime location for tourists and locals alike. The shop was Merlin's lifeblood, the task he put himself to every day. Because of this, the shop garnered attention for the idealistic and picturesque view in sponsor ads and the unique beverages and pastries found in Instagram posts of the shop.
The coffee shop had become a staple to visit on trips to Monaco, sporting glowing reviews and posts of the shop with thousands of likes. Merlin didn't care for all that; he just wanted to have enough money to keep it going, the product of his work and effort combined. This was the project that got him through the last years, a token of the heartbreak. The shop gave him a purpose, something to focus on instead of the what-ifs and failed relationships in his shadow.
Will walked into the shop, the bell on the door ringing out a soft ‘ding!’, with the supplies for the latest pastries they invented for the menu. Merlin had created a new intrigue for the shop to get attention. The street lights outside the window glared an ominous glow, interrupting the warm light of the shop. The evening chill swept into the shop from the open door.
Will crossed the light tile of the cafe, the door swooping shut behind him. He left footprints of dirt across the floor. “Shops’ all good?” Will huffed out, sliding past the counter and dropping the bags of flour and sugar onto the floor with a solid thud, crouching to count the bags. Will tilted his head to crack it, his neck creating a popping sound.
“Shops all good, don't worry, Will, I can handle it on my own.” Merlin swiped a rag across the counter, gathering up the crumbs of pastries into a neat pile. He pushed the small mound into the garbage and grabbed the remote of the TV, turning it down a notch more. The last customer trickled out of the store, the door’s bell swinging side to side with the exit.
Merlin dipped his head to glance at Will, kneeling on the floor, the man in question slowly counting on his fingers the amounts of the supplies. Merlin snorted to himself at the sight, the dimwit, he thought. Merlin traipsed to the door to turn the ‘Open’ sign to the ‘Closed’ side.
“Not exactly a sprint, eh?” Will uttered, looking up, narrowing his eyes at Merlin. Merlin nodded slightly.
“You okay?-” Will asked. “-You look funny.” Will’s face tensed up into an awful expression, scrunched up, to impersonate Merlin.
Merlin studied Will’s face before rolling his eyes and throwing the dirty rag at the other man’s head.
“Hey!” Will exclaimed at the rag hitting him square in the face, the remnants of crumbs and grime flying through the air.
“Shut up, Will, I'm just ready to go home for the night.” Merlin sighed and rolled his eyes. “I've said it before, I'll say it again, we need more workers.” Merlin bent to pick up the rag on the floor before tossing it back into the sink
“But that's less fun,” Will said, exaggerating the ‘N’ in ‘fun’. “You just hate closing down the shop by yourself, scaredy cat.”
Merlin rolled his eyes once more before looking at the time. He released the breath he had been holding.
“10 minutes more,” he mumbled to himself, exhaling softly. Merlin wished he had magic so he could do all of the work he had to do at once. Merlin grabbed the mop out of the broom closet, hearing the swing of the storage closet door and a thud of supplies in the other room. Merlin dunked his mop into the water bucket before putting it in the drying contraption and beginning to mop behind the counter, the time ticking slowly by.
*
The window next to Merlin's bed let in the eerie haze of the moonlight, casting light into his bedroom and creating shadows that grew like monsters along the room. The window was cracked open, letting in the distinct soft scent of outside air. He shucked his work clothes off, each item off his body an act of letting go of the day. He slid his pajamas on. His body exhausted, he sprawled onto the bed, the soft cotton of the bedsheets inviting him in. His cat curled on top of its tower like a dragon. The reflection of the moon shown in Merlin’s eyes, his head shifted to look at the moon.
Tonight in particular was rough. Merlin’s anxiety at an all-time high, the uneasy turning of his stomach constant. Knowing what was to come was foreboding, a tiger perched to pounce. Next week, he thought, next week. Merlin slid into a light sleep, head cushioned on his outstretched arm, breathing low, a trail of drool slowly making its way down. That night, Merlin dreamt of Arthur, his face trapped in the screen of a TV, yelling for Merlin to get him out.
*
This weekend was the week of the Monaco Grand Prix. That week, everyone and their mothers flocked to Monaco to see the stars of Formula One, Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, and now, goddamn Arthur Pendragon. Arthur would be in Monaco. He would strut down the very streets he walked. People coming to see Arthur would likely come to the coffee shop; hell, his engineers would probably come.
This procession of stars came last year as well, but Merlin had the good fortune of being called away to help his mother move into a new flat, avoiding the hustle and bustle of the snotty-nose lot of them. Merlin thanked God when he got the call from Hunith, eager to escape the possibility of seeing Arthur. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Arthur, but the thought was as scary as a rainstorm to a cricket, flooding his brain.
This year, however, he was stuck, Fortune’s fool. Forced to help Will and the other few employees with the influx of customers, he was going to have to face it. Face him, in some way. Merlin shrank into himself at the thought of it. He wanted to throw a brick into a window, shatter it like he had those years ago.
Arthur and his relationship had catastrophically collapsed one day in sophomore year, the final straw being the fake relationship set up to hide their own; Arthur and Gwen scheming to present to the public as a couple to avoid questions of Arthur’s homosexuality. Merlin had pleaded with him to stop the ruse once it began, to just say that he was single now or that he and Gwen ‘broke up’ quickly and fast, and yet Arthur wouldn't listen, too stuck in his own ways and pig-headed to understand Merlin. Too worried about the stigmas that would be placed against him should his and Merlin’s relationship be revealed.
And so Merlin lost him. Lost his boyfriend. Lost Arthur. The two of them had been the best of friends in middle school, slowly becoming more, and then It happened in freshman year. The ‘It’ was The Kiss. The beginning of their fooling around. A year of bliss, Merlin thought, a year of teenage love and lust and steeped in affection.
The beginning of the end happened when Uther, Arthur's father, found out about their relationship. Uther had found the two boys kissing in Arthur's room, yelling at them to get away from each other and for Arthur to stop for the sake of his career in motorsports. All of those years of karting, winning the Karting European Championship, winning the Karting World Championship, all of it could be reduced to nothing. “Formula One will never accept a ****** like you, it's just the truth, Arthur” Uther had told his son.
They had stayed together throughout that whole mess with Uther, a team, the days filled with the illicit affairs of teenage secrecy. Arthur focused on both his Formula career and Merlin, and they got even closer than before, a pair of boys intertwined like trees inosculated to one another. Arthur and Merlin were devoted to one another, ready to grow with years together. Then the question happened.
A reporter asked Arthur where his girlfriend was. Where the girlfriend was that all the other boys had. The reporter badgered Arthur about whether he was in a relationship and whether he was interested in the other gender at all. Arthur spiraled, their relationship on the verge of being discovered, and the blonde’s prospects in Formula One almost dwindled to nothing.
That was it. That was what spawned the ruse. The ruse of Gwen and Arthur as a relationship. It was a stressor for Merlin, which turned into a great divide as Arthur began to no longer hold his hand at school in fear. He begged Arthur to just ‘break up’ with Gwen, say she broke his heart to reporters, say that he was too focused on his racing career, anything. Arthur wouldn't have it, obsessed with the need to stay hidden, obsessed with racing.
Merlin couldn't say anything to Arthur after that argument in sophomore year, couldn't speak to the boy who broke his heart. Arthur went on. ‘Dated’ Gwen for almost 2 years before breaking the ruse off. Posted her on social media as his long-term girlfriend before ‘sadly’ announcing the split. Fans, of course, were heartbroken. Merlin knew better.
Arthur won the Formula Three European Championship. Won the Formula Two Rookie Of The Year award. Joined Formula One’s prestigious Camelot Racing team. Won a Formula One World Championship.
Merlin stayed there. Stayed at the moment in his sophomore year, where he knew they were done. He felt frozen in time, dust coating him in the dim light. The argument swam through his head, enveloping every corner of it, replaying and rewinding each sentence. Merlin hoped the best for Arthur. Hoped that he would settle down, have some kids with some starlet, get everything he used to tell Merlin he hoped for. Children and a picket fence, wine and age-old kisses.
Merlin graduated, went to college, got his bachelor's degree in English, moved to Monaco, and opened the coffee shop with Will. He made the coffee shop, the child of his despair. He knew it was silly to ruminate for so long on a high school relationship, but God, were they incandescently happy during freshman year. Arthur was more than just a short time. Merlin felt his heart was whole that fateful year, the hollow half in his chest filled for once. Now all he could do was watch the phantoms of his past and wonder. Wonder what would've happened had Merlin not run out.
This weekend, Merlin would have to watch as the ex-love of his life raced around the streets of the very same city he walked daily in. This weekend, Merlin would have to watch crowds of people fawn over his high school boyfriend. He had to watch once more as his past future got everything. He had to watch a gold rush of people cling to their Golden Boy of Camelot.
*
He was once again in the coffee shop, Will manning the register, George in the back of the shop baking, Merlin clearing tables and people-pleasing. It was Saturday, Qualifying day for the race. The day already started shit, Merlin thought, first, he woke up late, second, he burnt his toast, and third, Merlin stubbed his toe on the doorframe of his apartment on his way out, muffling his curses with his right hand and grasping at his foot with his left, the only thing in his vision the stupid ‘909’ of his apartment door.
Anyways, all of this to say that Merlin had no hopes for the day. Fuck, he had no hopes for the whole weekend. He hadn't watched a lot of Formula One since the split, too haunted by his past, but he still remembered enough, the pageantry and grandness of it all. He had watched clips of Arthur in his car, the track his kingdom, Arthur the king of the track. King of Camelot Racing
He remembered him and Arthur on the sofa watching the races, whether they were replays of his karting races or if they were the races of Formula One, one of Arthur’s arms around Merlin's shoulders, the other clasping his hand. The light would go off, and the TV would go on the ‘Keep Watching?’ screen, and hands would wander, and sweet nothings would be whispered lovingly.
Arthur was the World Champion now, the number 1 blazing on his car, present just as the seal of Camelot Racing was on all of his livery. Arthur wasn't his; he was the people’s. He won the championship, Merlin knew, the announcements were present on social media and even on the goddamn TV in the coffee shop, Merlin dropping a coffee at the headlines, splattering everywhere. He didn't want to know about Arthur Pendragon, his Arthur. He didn't want to know that he was seen with a new person on a date. He didn't want to know that last year Arthur Pendragon came out as bisexual on social media, the news of the first out racer on the grid spreading across news outlets like wildfire.
“@F1Updates: Arthur Pendragon Reveals Bisexuality In Recent Post.”
“@FormulaOneNews: Arthur Pendragon, Bisexual Formula One Driver”
“@CultureMazines: Arthur Pendragon Comes Out! Click Here For More Information!”
Merlin couldn't help but be a little bitter, the posts cracking open his chest and glomming on the remains of whatever was left of Arthur in his heart. He supposed he should be proud, and he was. He really was. But the statement of what Arthur last said to him stood true. He couldn't have Arthur.
He still waited for the call.
Merlin hesitated as he went to clean a table recently evacuated by shop-goers, stopping for a moment to watch the TV, the people in the shop also staring at the captions of the qualifying session for the bracket of who was running first, eliminations covering the bottom third of the screen. It was only Q3; they still had time.
*
In Q1, Arthur Pendragon secured pole position. He would be starting first in the race. Merlin silently and very internally celebrated for a slight moment before resuming his tasks as he had for all of Arthur's achievements over the last years. After all these years, Merlin thought, he still gets to me. The cavity in Merlin’s chest yearned. Thinking of what could have been, should have been, made Merlin’s chest ache. He should be there. Should be over there at the circuit supporting Arthur, should be the one in those articles with Arthur in a restaurant booth. Instead, he was here.
The cafe was now chock-full, the rush of people eager to get coffee and pastries after watching the qualifying, a line present out of the door. Merlin took his place at the second register, quickly ringing up the first person. Coffee and Pastry. Receipt. Repeat. Coffee and Pastry. Receipt. Repeat.
The third person in line looked vaguely familiar, Merlin passingly thought, face swimming through his mind before he focused back on his task, swiftly giving the person in front of him their receipt.
He got through the next two people with speed, learned and repetitive. George and another worker brewed up coffee and grabbed pastries as fast as they possibly could. The process of the cafe churned through, keeping the people following in and out of the shop.
“Merlin?”
Merlin looked up from the register, pausing for a moment, looking at the stranger. He couldn't figure out who it was, not recognizing him. The stranger's face lit up at seeing Merlin. A light bulb went off in his head.
“Gwaine?” Merlin exclaimed suddenly, the slight hold up in the line already garnering glares from the people in line behind Gwaine.
“Yeah! Y’know, Arthur's friend? We went to that one party all together with Percy and the group?” Gwaine mentioned, twisting a ring around his middle finger with his thumb. He let out a grin.
“Err, yeah,” Merlin said, wincing at the memory. That was the party where a Truth or Dare game led to Arthur first confessing his love to Merlin. That was the party where Merlin confessed his love to Arthur. Fuck, that was so long ago.
The person behind Gwaine in line cleared their throat, looking around to see what the holdup was. The chatter of the cafe returned to Merlin’s consciousness.
“Um, Gwaine, what would you like to have?” Merlin blurted out, still taken off guard by the revenant of the past coming back to haunt him.
Gwaine startled back into himself, seemingly remembering where they were. He paused to look at the menu before ordering.
“I'll just have a black coffee, nothing else, please,” Gwaine ordered
“Coming up,” Merlin said before shakingly putting the order into the register.
Merlin checked Gwaine out, giving him his receipt before Gwaine promptly held out what looked like a business card, the card crisp and golden.
Merlin stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. The light jazz coming from the TV overtook Merlin's focus. Gwaine’s hand wavered in the air.
“This is Arthur's number. If you want it, that is.” Gwaine clarified, sensing Merlin’s conflict about the card. Merlin took the card, stuffing it in his pocket. The edges of the card sliced at his fingers, the presence of it in his pocket burning a hole through it, or maybe that was just his imagination.
“Erm, okay, thanks-” Merlin started.
The person behind them once again cleared their throat. Gwaine stepped aside before flinging out a quick “Nice seeing you!” to Merlin. He was speechless. How did Gwaine know that Merlin hadn't seen Arthur? Were they still in contact? Was this Arthur reaching out?
Merlin stared for a moment at the man leaving, coffee in hand, and head down, looking at his phone. Merlin took the card into his hand. In golden letters and with the seal of Camelot Racing to the side of it, Arthur Pendragon Enterprises was written out in cursive. Fuck. A cough interrupted his thinking. Merlin abruptly remembered the line, looking over to Will, who was wide-eyed, gesturing for him to get a move on with the customers. Fuck. Merlin shoved the card back into his pocket.
*
Merlin stirred the pot on the stove before turning it down to simmer, the wooden spoon creating an odd scraping sound at the bottom. He shoved his other hand into his pocket, grabbing the business card, the sharp edges of it digging into his palm.
Merlin glared at the business card in his hands like it was the secret of the universe or the key to humanity. He walked over to his bedroom, opening the door with one hand and the other hand grasping the card. Merlin sat on his bed, a raspy meow interrupting his thoughts, his old, scraggly gray cat jumping up on the bed to brush up against him, Kilgarrah purring as Merlin reached a hand over to glide across his fur. God, what the hell should he do now?
-
Arthur's POV - Race Day
-
Arthur broke in the chicane, slowing his speed. Almost there, he thought, almost. His race engineer updated him on the radio. He came out into the straightaway. He accelerated. The car behind him came almost to the side of him. He could see the checkered flag. He pushed down the pedal. He waited. His race engineer cheered. The crowd roared. He won. He won the race, he thought. He pumped his fist up in the air, one hand on the steering wheel. He slowed. He drove into parc fermé.
He felt numb, sensations muffled and otherworldly through the padding of the helmet. He took off his steering wheel and placed it on the chassis. He grabbed the halo. He got up onto his car, triumphant. Hands in the air, he celebrated. His race engineer exclaimed praise into his ears.
He ran, exhausted and sweaty, over to his team, the red and gold of their polos creating a uniform swarm of people. He jumped into their arms, feeling exhausted and numbly euphoric. He did it. He had finally won Monaco.
Arthur grinned as he stepped onto the top step of the Monaco podium, tilting his head back, soaking in the moment. His hair was drenched with sweat, his team camp soaked through, and the Pirelli logo stood out starkly against the deep red of the cap. Arthur’s Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the cheering of the crowd that rang in his ears, the chanting of ‘Camelot’ spreading through the crowd. The sun beamed onto his face, his neck sun-warm and dry. Arthur drank the moment.
Arthur paused after the national anthem, waiting to get his hands on the trophy. He sweat into his race suit. He waved at the crowd. Some higher up in the FIA handed him the trophy, a golden outline of Monaco, firm and heavy in his hands. He raised the trophy above his head, smiling widely. The cameras went off with a flurry.
Arthur paused for a moment, holding the object, looking at it as though it held the answer to his despair. All he could think of was dark brown hair, big ears, and high cheekbones. All he could think about was him.
After he placed the trophy down, he quickly moved to step off the podium. Grabbing the bottle of champagne at his feet, he uncorked it with a swiftness, covering the top slightly with his thumb before slamming it onto the podium floor, the spray catapulting out of the bottle in an upwards arc. He shook the bottle, spraying onto the second and third winners of the Grand Prix, the other podium racers spraying him back, the champagne flooding into his eyes and stinging. Arthur looked down at the object, glancing at the letter scrawled onto the bottle. Arthur blinked fast and hard to stop the searing in his eyes, the effort futile. The cheers from the crowd poured into his ears.
*
Back in his hotel room, Arthur strided to the bathroom, eager to rinse off the sweat and get the sticky sensation of champagne out of his hair. He turned the shower on.
He had been wishing to win Monaco, the achievement lauded with respect in Formula One, and the street circuit easy to crash in. He secretly wished to win for a separate reason, a reason close to his heart, nestled into the gaping emptiness of the half missing. On his champagne bottle, he wrote something he always wanted to write.
On the object, he wrote ‘to M.” Arthur had always wanted to accomplish Monaco, the circuit and place a favorite of Merlin’s in the times they watched Formula One together, the boy exclaiming how it was beautiful there and the city-state alluring. He didn't even know if Merlin still watched Formula One. Probably not, he thought, stomach dropping slightly.
What was he thinking? Merlin probably forgot about him, the asshole who broke his heart in sophomore year that should not be named, the knob who lost him. The clotpole, a favorite word of Merlin’s, who was a dick to him when he just wanted Arthur to get his head out of his ass. God, Arthur thought. Arthur shook his head, stopping himself from going over what-ifs.
*
A notification sound rang out into the silent air, Arthur dozing off in the calm after the storm that was the race. The sun was lowered, the moon casting little light into the room. Arthur grunted, rolling to his side to grab sleepily at the nightstand, the phone glowing a blunt white into the darkness of his hotel room. Arthur unlocked his phone, opening the message.
Gwaine
I forgot to tell you but I ran into Merlin the other day.
What the fuck, Arthur thought, hastily typing out his response.
Arthur:
how??
where??
What????
Arthur exhaled. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe.
Gwaine:
Yeah he works down at this coffee shop I guess
Arthur:
hello?which one?? where?????
Gwaine:
Jesus. In Monaco, I gave him your business card
Arthur:
Gwaine why the fuck would you give him my business card
Oh my god oh my god
Are you sure its merlin??
Send me the location
Gwaine:
Its definitely Merlin I literally saw him
Ill send you the location
Arthur gaped at his phone, mouth parted in disbelief. Merlin in Monaco. Merlin is in Monaco right now. He clicked out and onto Percy's contact in panic.
Arthur:
Percy
Percy
Percy
Emergency
Percy:
what do you want now
what happened
Arthur:
Gwaine ran into merlin
In Monaco
The place im at
Hes working at a coffee shop literally 7 minutes away
Right now
Probably
Percy:
okay man maybe take a breather
Pause
Merlin? Like THE merlin
Arthur:
yes.
THE MERLIN.
Percy:
so do you want to see merlin?
Arthur:
Yes
Maybe
Fuck idk
I just want to talk to him.
and maybe make up for lost time
kiss him maybe
Percy:
arthur
Its been 5 years since you talked to him
be honest
be realistic
Arthur:
fine
i would like to apologize
And maybe kiss him
And see how hes changed after 5 years
Percy:
knew it
ur still in love with him
morgana owes me $100
Arthur:
you were betting on me still being in love??
rude????
fuck im gonna see if I can delay my flight and go to the coffee shop tmrw
Percy:
my friend you are crazy
5 years and bro wants to go confess his everlasting love
i knew it when last time we went to the club(too long btw) n all you could talk about was how lovely merlin was and how you miss him and how much you want to kisssssss himmmmmm
Arthur:
Okay maybe i’ll just talk to him shut up
Percy:
yeah okay
“talk”
you go do that man
Arthur:
U were no help
Arthur sighed before jumping to his email to tell the team he was flying out later. Maybe Merlin would hate his guts. It was fair. Maybe he doesn't even think about me, Arthur thought. Maybe he only thinks about me when I'm on the TV. Or maybe he only thinks of me at night, hidden away from the rest of his consciousness. Or maybe he's just forgotten me.
The ‘what if’s’ were swirling around his head, unsure and unsteady. Arthur typed out the email. Nevertheless, his mind was itching to send it and to see Merlin again, itching because for the first time in years, Merlin was within reach. Arthur sent the email. He sent it. Tomorrow, Arthur thought, tomorrow I'm going to see Merlin for the first time in 5 years.
-
Interlude
-
“@F1Updates:Arthur Pendragon Wins Monaco Grand Prix!”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur wins Monaco Grand Prix. Picture Attached”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur writes on champagne bottle ‘To M’. Picture attached”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur questioned about who ‘M’ is in a new interview. Video attached”
“@CultureMagazine: Arthur Pendragon Reveals Who Mystery ‘M’ Is In New Interview! Click Here For More Information.”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur reveals in interview that he loves Cats more than Dogs”
-
Merlin's POV - Race Day
-
The race is today, Merlin thought as he cleared a table, wiping the table down with a wet rag. The coffee shop was bursting with people, eager for a coffee before the race and even more eager to take photos of the cafe for their posts on social media.
Merlin both loved and despised the coffee shop’s popularity, the traction bringing in customers but also flooding the cafe on the Grand Prix days, both qualifying and race day. Merlin was on rag duty today, forced to clear the tables after each person left, the flow of people seemingly endless.
The news was on, reporting on the race and its popularity. Merlin was just about to look away from the TV when a large picture of Arthur came on. The table next to the one he was clearing was chattering incessantly. He moved closer to catch the conversation, nosy and curious.
“-no like he’s my hall pass with Jason,” The brunette confessed
Merlin leaned closer, lingering around to ‘clean’ the table. Why did he do this to himself, he thought.
“The way I would climb that tree is crazy,” The blonde girl emphatically said
“I think it's crazy how he’s literally the World Champion and he’s that hot. It's, like, so crazy, "the brunette replied.
God, if only they knew, Merlin thought to himself, slightly smug. He> was the one climbing that tree, once. A part of Merlin was screaming, aching to talk to Arthur, to tell him how, after 5 years, he still was front and center in his mind. How Merlin was still searching for him in every place he went, looking for his picture or his energy or his love. It was like a plague he couldn't cure, a flash flood tearing through a cavern. He couldn't let himself wander in his mind, couldn't let his thoughts stray too far, lest they return to Arthur.
*
Arthur looked heavenly on the TV, taking his helmet and balaclava off, his hair ruffled and mussed just the way it used to be after...Merlin stopped his mind from going there. He looked heavenly on the podium, his head tilted back, his race suit a deep, lurid red. Merlin sighed quietly to himself.
The people in the coffee shop cheered with the crowd on the TV. Arthur looked heavenly when he popped his champagne bottle, his race suit covered in the spray. Merlin could imagine the champagne dripping down his face, getting onto the junction of his neck and shoulders where Merlin used to memorise his skin.
A winner. That’s what Arthur looked like. A winner.
*
“Will?” Merlin called out softly, the sign on the shop door a red ‘Closed’ and the lights in the cafe a dim, warm glow. The speakers of the TV chattered with the mutterings of the news. Merlin swept the floor, the broom a ragged, well-worn thing.
“Yeah?” Will called back, walking out of the storage closet into the room.
“I think I still love Arthur,” Merlin sighed, very definite in his affirmation. He finished sweeping half of the room, creating a heap of trash and dirt in the middle.
“Merlin, mate, I think you’re the last to know that,” Will said, his face amused, used to the behavior.
“Oh sod off, I already knew I just didn't know,” Merlin stated, emphasizing the ‘O’ in know. He rolled his eyes and swept a chunk of some odd thing into the pile.
“The thing is-” Merlin continued, “That Gwaine came into the shop the other day and gave me Arthur’s business card.” Merlin disclosed, “So I think I should call him. Right?” Merlin's expression anxious and conflicted. His sweeping became hurried.
“Merlin, you’re a dimwit if you think I'm going to let you not call that number, you’ve been mooning over this guy since middle school.” Will rolled his eyes, moving to check the register.
“But-” Merlin started. He stopped sweeping for a moment, propping the broom onto the wall of the shop between tables.
“-No ‘buts’. You’re doing this.” Will narrowed his eyes at Merlin, shaking his finger disapprovingly at him.
“Alright, yeah,” Merlin said, both defeated and glad. Merlin shoved his face into his hands.
“...Can I do it tomorrow though?” Merlin asked timidly, peeking through his fingers.
“Sure, you idiot,” Will said as he picked a rag off the counter to throw at Merlin. Merlin ducked quickly, avoiding the wrath of the rag.
*
Merlin was going to call Arthur, he was sure of it. Today was the day. Or maybe it wasn't, he thought, backing out of the statement. No, it was, he thought. Merlin rang up a customer, throwing a “Have a good day!” at the person as they immediately pivoted to go wait for their coffee. Minutes passed, and Merlin grabbed the drink from George before placing it on the counter for pickup.
The door’s bell rang with a ‘ding!’ as another customer walked in the door. Merlin crouched to grab the glass spray for the display, noticing a large handprint present in the middle of the glass. His knees crackled with the movement. He really had to clean out the cleaning cabinet, he thought. Spray bottle in hand, Merlin popped out from beneath the counter.
Holy shit, Merlin thought immediately. Merlin stood, mouth parted in disbelief. His eyes danced across the man, his heart beating through his fingertips, his head dizzy with years of wishing come true. Arthur Pendragon, in all his famous glory, was there right in front of him. Merlin blinked rapidly to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. He was here. Arthur Pendragon is standing in his coffee shop. His Arthur.
“Hi,” Arthur said as he gazed upon Merlin, Merlin busy convincing himself that Arthur was really there and wasn't a figment of his imagination, busy noting the differences 5 years made on Arthur that he couldn't perceive through his phone or the TV. He noted the slight wrinkle of a forehead, the aberration in the blonde’s haircut, the crows' feet growing in the corner of his eyes.
“Hi,” Merlin let out breathily, unsure of what to say.
“Hi,” Arthur replied dumbly before continuing, “I just, er, wanted to see you?” Arthur's voice lilted up at the end of the sentence, creating the impression of it being a question.
“Hi, this is um, my coffee shop,” Merlin gestured to the room, stating the obvious.
“Oh, you own this? That's great, Merlin!” Arthur replied, smiling at Merlin.
They both stilled.
“I just-”
“Look, I-”
They both started before stopping, hearing the other begin their response.
“-No, you go.” Arthur tilted his head towards Merlin, gesturing to him.
“I just can't believe that you’re really here,” Merlin said finally.
“Arthur Pendragon in the flesh,” Arthur chuckled to himself for a moment before continuing.
"Look, Merlin, I’ve got a lot I want to say to you. Like, a lot.” Arthur stared at Merlin, cataloguing every slight expression.
“I want to say that I’m sorry, and that I wish things didn't end the way they did, and I can't get you out of my head, I haven't been able to since sophomore year, and every single win in stupid karting and all of the stupid Formula’s have been dedicated to you in my head” Arthur ranted, his speech thoroughly practised in the mirror beforehand falling apart with each word.
Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as Arthur continued.
“-and you were right, back then, the ruse was stupid and unnecessary, and I was too much of a clotpole to realize it.” Merlin smiled at Arthur, using the word ‘clotpole’, “and I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you when you said it, and it's always been you. Everything I've done is for you, and I miss that stupid party where we did Truth or Dare, and you told me,” Arthur's voice broke,”you told me that you loved me back. Arthur paused for a moment to catch his breath. “I'm sorry,” his voice was distraught and begging.
“All of this time has passed, and it's still you, Merlin. I can't help it, and I don't even know if you're the same person I loved, but if it's you- then I love you-” Arthur continued, his hands gesturing and his eyes on the verge of crying.
“ I will fall in love with you all over again if I must. I can't undo what I did, but the ruse with Gwen was stupid, and it was always about you.” He added.
“I-” Merlin attempted to speak, but he floundered. Arthur said everything Merlin had ever wished he would've said to him, the years prominent and yet dissolving, the time between conversations and kisses dissipating before his eyes. Merlin moved to go from behind the counter but stopped, wanting to digest every word out of Arthur's perfect mouth.
“Everything was for you. These years. For you, only,” Arthur stated, tears spilling over.
Arthur moved to continue again, but Merlin held a finger up to stop him “Arthur I’m sorry for how it ended, I'm sorry that I asked you to choose racing or me, that was so stupid and I wish I didn't do idiotic things like that, and I can't get you out of my head either and everything reminds me of you”
Merlin’s eyes began watering. “I’m sorry I said the things I did, and I couldn't stomach talking to you after the argument because I thought you hated me, and-”
“-I could never hate you, “ Arthur interrupted. “Never.” Merlin moved out from behind the counter and walked up to Arthur, staring at the man as he did, watching each flutter of his eyelashes, every muscle move, each breath. “A heart can't hate that which makes it whole,” Arthur whispered, now a hair's breadth away from Merlin.
The two stared at each other, caught in the moment. Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's hip, tugging him closer. Arthur leaned into Merlin, nudging his face until their lips touched, a soft and gentle connection. They held the kiss, hands grasping at whatever they could grab. Merlin let out a small sigh at the contact before moving back in to deepen the kiss.
Arthur's other hand came up to cup the other man's face, his fingers curling before sliding back to grasp the back of Merlin’s neck, fiddling with the hair. Merlin gasped at the sensation. Using Merlin's movement, Arthur tilted his head, pressing into Merlin as he followed the motion of Arthur.
Arthur pressed in once more before breaking off the kiss to press a chaste peck on Merlin's lips. Arthur brought his arms up to hug Merlin, arms encircling his shoulders, and Merlin tucked his head into the junction of Arthur's shoulder. The two breathed in the scent of the other, both in disbelief of the moment and savoring it like sweet honey.
“I love you,” Merlin whispered against Arthur's neck.
“I love you” Arthur whispered back.
*
Arthur frantically pushed against Merlin's back, mouthing at his neck and feverishly kissing the side of Merlin's face, the man in question struggling to get the key to his apartment into the doorknob. The apartment halls were silent except for the expletives coming out of Merlin’s mouth and the heavy breathing of the two of them.
Merlin moaned at the feeling of Arthur at the back of him, groaning and tilting his head back before resuming his task to get the door open. Arthur snuck his hand under the bottom of his t-shirt, feeling the smooth skin and moving his hand upwards to feel more of it. Merlin fumbled with the key and cursed like a sailor before finally getting the key to turn, opening the door.
The two of them crashed into Merlin's apartment, Kilgarrah startling and running away at the intrusion. Arthur pushed Merlin against the wall, shoving a knee between his legs before slamming the door shut.
The hallway was now soundless save for the muffled noises behind Apartment Number 909.
-
Epilogue
-
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur seen leaving Cafe Emrys in Monaco. Picture attached.”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur seen leaving apartment building in Monaco. Picture attached”
“@CultureMagazine: Arthur Pendragon Seen Kissing Mystery Man! Guess Who Below!”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur seen leaving same apartment building in Monaco. Picture attached”
“@CultureMagazine: Arthur Pendragon Soft Launches New Beau In Instagram Post! Man or Woman? Guess Below!”
“@CultureMagazine: Arthur Pendragon Has A Cat? New Instagram Post Reveal. Guess Name Below!”
“@F1Updates: Arthur Pendragon wins World Championship Title in Record-Breaking Year. Congratulations, Arthur!”
“@ArthurPendragonUpdates: Arthur revealed in new post that he is fiancés with Merlin Emrys, coffee shop owner in Monaco.”