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Progress: WIP
Rating: PG (this part)
Pairing/s: Arthur/Merlin (main, future), other minor pairings
Warnings: None (this part)
Word count: 3484
Summary: Modern AU. Arthur and Merlin first meet when they're waiting for the train on a rainy day, and that's how it all starts.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, the BBC does.
A/N: This chapter is a lot longer than the first one...the third is going to be quite short although.
Chapter 1
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Two weeks later, Arthur wakes up to his phone buzzing, and checks it blearily to find a text from Morgana.
Lunch, today, 1PM at the old Dragon’s place.
Arthur groans. Unexpected lunch with Morgana at the Dragon’s place is not his idea of a good Sunday afternoon. Not only is it Morgana, it’s at the Dragon’s place. The Dragon’s place is actually a rather nice cafe fifteen minutes away from Arthur’s apartment with a simple name, the Dragon’s Cafe. The Dragon is the weird old guy that owns the place. He tells his customers a lot of weird, cryptic stuff, usually relating to destiny, and, for some reason, coins. Or maybe the coin bit is just for Arthur.
Hoping that Morgana is bringing someone else along, hopefully Gwen – she’s a really nice woman, and really pretty too, possibly the closest he’s come to liking someone like that apart from Merlin, but no, no, he’s not thinking about Merlin, can’t think about Merlin-
Attempting to push away that train of thought, he reluctantly texts Morgana back, telling her he’ll be there. It’s not even seven yet, so Arthur decides to go for a run. He likes to run, not just on a treadmill in a gym, but outside in the fresh air, with living things around.
He thought a run might distract him, but it’s early enough that there’s barely any people out, and his mind wanders back to that day on the train. He’s never really liked trains, or public transport much at all. Public transport in the city is like the city itself, usually busy and crowded, and Arthur doesn’t like that. That train ride with Merlin was different, though; it was good.
Arthur shakes his head, sighing to himself. No matter how much he tries to forget about Merlin, he just can’t. It’s not doing him any good, practically pining over someone he talked to for little more than three hours. No, he should be concentrating on other things, anything, anything other than Merlin. But Merlin never escapes his thoughts for more than a few hours, somehow, there’s always something that reminds Arthur of him. Maybe he’ll see someone tall and skinny and dark-haired that looks like Merlin from the back, but then they turn around, and they don’t have the right face, the right mischievous grin and bright blue eyes.
He’ll be looking through papers, researching something for his report for university, and it’s someone who’s hurt someone, robbed someone, killed someone, and he wonders again if karma exists, if it’s like what Merlin says. That there’s a balance in the world, and that balance will become right again, when one of these people does something horrible.
Even though he only knew Merlin for three hours, everything reminds him of him.
Arthur runs home, trying to think of anything but Merlin, and failing miserably.
He showers and changes into jeans and a white tee, then wanders around his house barefooted for a few minutes, wondering what to do. He checks the time on his designer watch and sees that he’s still got at least five hours until he has to meet Morgana for lunch. Walking into his spacious study, he sits at his desk and works on his extra credit paper for school, but he can’t concentrate and he doesn’t need to get it in for another three weeks, until break finishes.
Arthur wanders back out of his study after a while and into the kitchen, where he opens his fridge and stares at the almost-empty shelves, and decides to go grocery shopping.
He walks to the nearest supermarket, twenty minutes away, and walks up and down the aisles, taking only necessities; he has to carry these all the way back home, and he’s not likely to run out anytime soon, either. He can cook well enough, but he doesn’t much, most of the time ordering takeout instead. He’s practically memorized the whole menu of his favourite Chinese takeout place.
The cashier flirts with him as usual, but for once, he doesn’t flirt back. He’s got too much on his mind for playful chat today, and the cashier is clearly disappointed, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s pretty enough, but overall, Arthur’s never really payed very close attention to her. He doesn’t even know her name. He’s not interested enough to find out.
When Arthur gets home, he kills a couple of hours watching movies, then decides to change into something nicer than simple tee. He keeps the jeans – they’re nice jeans, at least, and they’re comfortable – but switches the tee for a white button-up, which is probably strange paired with jeans, but he likes this style. He may understand fashion and know that it impresses people when he dresses how people expect the son of Uther Pendragon to, but it doesn’t mean that he likes it.
After he’s gotten changed, Arthur leaves and heads to the cafe. He catches a cab this time, even though it’s only fifteen minutes away, but he’s already had enough exercise that morning, and it’s near enough that he doesn’t want to take his own car. He arrives at the cafe before anyone else does, and manages to get to the booth he and Morgana usually use with only a small amount of rambling about destiny to him from the Dragon.
Morgana walks in not five minutes later, spots her adoptive brother and sits down with him.
“You’re early,” she says. “As always. You’re always early. Never just on time. Just early.”
“So are you.”
“I’m supposed to be early, I’m the one who invited you all here,” Morgana replies. “It wouldn’t do for me to be late.”
“You’re always early too,” Arthur points out. “Who else is coming? Gwen?”
“That’s true,” Morgana sighs. “Maybe it’s because we were both raised by Uther. And yes, Gwen is coming, but she’s not the one that’s going to be late. Merlin is.”
Arthur doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then finally, “Merlin?” He supposes he should tell Morgana that he knows Merlin; Merlin’s sure to recognize him when he turns up, and it would probably hurt his feelings if he found out Arthur hadn’t told Morgana about meeting him.
Not that he really cares about hurting Merlin’s feelings. Why should he?
Arthur knows that lying to himself doesn’t work, because he knows that he’s lying, but it doesn’t stop him trying.
“Yes, he’s a friend of Gwen’s, they used to live nearby each other. In that town we went to a few weeks ago, remember?”
“I know who Merlin is.” Arthur’s spent two weeks trying to forget about Merlin and his contagious enthusiasm and brilliant smile.
“Oh?” Morgana sounds surprised. “You never told me that you met Merlin.”
“We were on the same train back home when we were there before,” Arthur says after a moment. “We realized that he was friends with Gwen and I was your brother, and we talked for a while. That train was basically empty; isn’t that weird?”
“Yeah, apparently they’re all like that,” Morgana says, and then, to the waitress who’s appeared, “No, thank you, we’re waiting for some friends of ours.”
“Okay, I’ll be back to take your order later,” the waitress says to Arthur, batting her eyelashes and pretending that Morgana isn’t the one who just spoke to her and sauntering off again.
Morgana snorts. “Oh, Arthur. Life must so very, very hard for you.”
“They don’t really interest me,” Arthur says absentmindedly.
“Oh? Have you met someone?” Morgana asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No.” It’s a blatant lie, and Arthur knows it, not that he’s actually going to tell Morgana the truth. The truth being, that despite the mutual attraction between Gwen and himself, he’s got a bit of a crush on Merlin. He can’t deny it, not even to himself. He fancies a bloke he met at a train station and knew for three hours. Ignoring Morgana’s look of disbelief, he changes the subject. “So, why’s Merlin going to be late? Traffic?”
Arthur knows Morgana’s biggest secret, something that only he knows about. Something he’d never tell anyone, because he’s loyal and trustworthy and Morgana is his sister, the very reasons why she’d told him about her ability to see the future through her dreams. Morgana first told Arthur about it when he was nine and she was ten, and obviously, being a boy and her brother and a normal human being, he hadn’t believed her.
That had changed when she’d predicted the exact day that his fourth grade teacher would announce that she was leaving, a week before it happened. Following that, she made several other predictions about things there was no other way she could know about. After that, Arthur had never doubted her abilities again, and she’d never been wrong.
Morgana shakes her head. “Nope, he’s walking. He’s sketching and he loses track of time.”
“He’s an artist?” That fit Merlin well, even if it was a bit of a stereotype.
“Yes, I’ve seen some of his work, it’s amazing. You should really see them sometime.” She spots something over Arthur’s shoulder, and brightens. “Oh, Gwen’s here.”
Gwen walks over, smiling as usual, and sits next to Morgana, opposite Arthur. “Hi,” she grins.
“Hi,” Arthur replies. Guinevere is a beautiful woman, and she’s sweet and kind and intelligent. If he were to ever be in a serious relationship with a woman, it would be her. He’s thought about it before, but he’s never done anything about it, even though he knows that she likes him.
Now, he’s even less sure that he and Gwen could work, because she doesn’t seem to shine like Merlin does.
As they talk, Gwen often glances at Arthur, flushing a little when he catches her at it, but he doesn’t smile as he usually does, and he doesn’t look at her much. He feels a little guilty when he sees the look of confusion and hurt on Gwen’s face, but that thought, that feeling, disappears as he stares over the girls’ shoulders at the dark-haired man that’s just stepped through the doorway.
Merlin only manages to get three steps into the cafe before the Dragon corners him and undoubtedly starts blabbering on about destiny and whatnot. Merlin looks very disturbed.
Morgana sees that Arthur is staring behind her and Gwen, and twists around in her seat and sees Merlin. “Hey, Merlin,” she calls, waving to him. “Over here!”
Merlin breaks into a relieved grin and excuses himself, quickly making his way away from the disgruntled looking Dragon and towards Arthur, Morgana and Gwen.
“Hey, Arthur,” Merlin says, sounding surprised, but – Arthur is, for some reason, relieved to note – looking happy. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Morgana hadn’t told me you were coming.” He slides in next to Arthur, who is strongly reminded of that first day, on the train station.
“Well, I was going to introduce you two,” Morgana says, smiling, “but it turns out that you’ve already met.”
The four of them got along very well. Arthur can see that Morgana and Gwen both adore Merlin, and he finds himself feeling the same way. He’s clumsy, and even though Arthur feigns annoyance when he knocks something over, but he secretly finds it a little endearing.
Finally, after a couple of hours of talking, Gwen says that she has an appointment and has to leave. Just after Gwen’s gone, Morgana makes her own excuses and leaves Merlin and Arthur sitting next to each other.
“Um,” Merlin says, a little awkwardly. Arthur wonders how he can be so talkative and bold one day and then another, shy and awkward about speaking the next. “So, do you want to go, or, if you don’t have to be anywhere...”
“I have absolutely nothing to do,” Arthur says, finding that he wants to spend more time with Merlin, just like that first day. It was nice, the four of them, but Arthur wants to talk with Merlin alone, just like the first day. Even if he’s certain that it’s just going to make him like Merlin even more. “So, if you just want to stay and talk...?”
“Sure,” Merlin says, flashing a – relieved? Arthur hopes, but maybe he’s just projecting – smile, and Arthur feels a little overwhelmed. Merlin’s special. He’s not like anyone else Arthur’s ever met. Merlin makes Arthur feel different, like the sort of feeling he gets when he’s with Gwen, except it’s a million times stronger with Merlin.
“You want another drink?” Arthur asks, and when Merlin nods, he flags down a waitress, the redheaded one from before, who immediately makes her way over to their booth, smiling flirtatiously at Arthur.
“What can I get you?” she asks.
“Just another coffee for me, thanks,” Arthur says, and then looks at Merlin. “And for my friend...?”
“Hot chocolate, please,” Merlin says.
The waitress walks away, still trying to flirt desperately with Arthur, but he’s too fixated on Merlin to even notice.
“A hot chocolate?” Arthur snorts. “What is that, off the children’s menu?”
“It’s cold,” Merlin says primly. “Hot chocolates are very nice for cold weather. Not all of us can have cashmere coats.”
Arthur eyes Merlin’s own thin jacket doubtfully. “Does that even keep you warm at all?”
Merlin just shrugs, and then the waitress is back, in record speed with their drinks. She lingers as long as she can, fluttering
her eyelashes at Arthur, but he just ignores her, and she finally leaves, pouting a little.
When Arthur picks up his glass to take a drink, he groans, plucking up the scrap of paper that was underneath his glass. “She left me her number.”
This time, Merlin’s the one to snort. “Nice. Very, very subtle.”
“Man, I wish they would just leave me alone,” Arthur complains, shredding the piece of paper.
Merlin raises an eyebrow. “Does this happen to you often?”
“Often enough,” Arthur says, then smirks. “Why, you jealous?”
Merlin just smirks right back. “Of you? As if.”
Arthur acts offended. “What’s not to be jealous of?” Then, slyly, “But maybe you’re jealous of them?”
Merlin blushes bright red, and Arthur finds it quite fetching. “Of course not,” Merlin scoffs, but he’s smiling, and Arthur’s grinning right back.
Clearing his throat, Merlin changes the subject. “So, what do you do? You have a job?”
Arthur shakes his head. “No, I’m at school. Third year, studying law.”
“Oh, no business or economics?”
“Well, I started off as a business major,” Arthur says, a little uncomfortably. “But I wasn’t enjoying it, and even though that’s why my father wanted me to do, I changed to a law degree instead.”
“Bet he loved that,” Merlin murmured, then realized what he’d said and stuttered, “ah, I mean, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, you’re right,” Arthur said, smiling wryly. “My father was extremely unhappy with my decision, but I don’t regret it. I’m happy studying law. It’s what I want to do.”
“It must have been hard.” Merlin’s voice is quiet and his eyes are trained on the table.
“What?”
“Telling your father that you were switching degrees, even though you he wanted you to do business,” Merlin explains, now looking directly at Arthur. His head is tilted a little and his blue eyes are wide.
Arthur doesn’t know how they can read him like an open book, see things that nobody else sees.
“You’re right,” Arthur says. “It was hard. Really, really hard.” He can’t lie to Merlin. There’s not really any point, anyway, because it’s like Merlin can already see everything, know everything about him. Maybe it’s just that Merlin seems to care, like nobody else ever has before. “It was hard because I didn’t want to disappoint him. He expected so much of me, and I wanted to make him proud of me, but I couldn’t force myself to do something I hated.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Merlin says softly. “You should be allowed to do whatever makes you happy.”
That’s something special about Merlin, Arthur thinks. Another reason why he’s not like other people. He cares. He actually cares about Arthur, about what Arthur feels. Everyone else just said he was selfish, when he’s the only heir to the Pendragon company, because if Arthur didn’t inherit, then who would? Only Morgana had cared about Arthur, but she hadn’t understood, not really. She may be a fashion designer, but she was still an excellent businesswoman, and she would be a much better choice to inherit the company.
“Thank you,” Arthur says, and he means it, he really means it. Then, “What about you? Do you go to school?”
Merlin shakes his head, and, blushing a little, he says, “No, I’m working, at my uncle’s shop. I...could never afford to go to university, so I just work. And paint.”
“Paint?” That’s right, Morgana had said that Merlin was an artist, but she hadn’t said exactly what he does. “So, is that what you mostly like to do? Painting?”
Merlin shrugged. “Yeah, I do other stuff too, but painting’s my favourite. There’s a market here in the city twice a month, and I sell some of my work there for a little extra. But then I have to buy more art supplies, and with bills and food and rent, there’s not a lot left over, even with my job at Gaius’ shop. But, I get along...sorry, I’ve just been yammering along, you don’t want to hear about that...” He trails off, red spots flaring on his – gorgeous – cheekbones, and Arthur wonders why, for a moment, before he realizes. Merlin’s embarrassed, because while he’s struggling to pay rent and buy food and has never had a chance to go to university, Arthur’s family is one of the wealthiest in the country.
Arthur wants to tell Merlin that he doesn’t care about that, that it doesn’t make him think any less of Merlin, but he can’t find the right words, so he just stares into the dregs of his coffee, but then Merlin starts up another topic, and it’s behind them.
A while later Merlin yelps after checking his watch, and starts talking frantically, “Oh god, I’m going to be a late, I’ve got a four o’clock shift, and god, I’m going to be late!”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Arthur says, grabbing Merlin’s wrist. Merlin stares at him, wide-eyed, and Arthur’s breath catches in his throat before he comes to his senses. “Don’t be silly, of course you’re not going to be late.”
“Yes, I am, if I don’t leave right now, it takes at least half an hour to walk there from here, and Gaius is going to be angry if I’m late again!”
Merlin continues fretting until Arthur says loudly, “Merlin!” Once Merlin had stops, Arthur calmly continues. “Let me pay for a cab for you,” and when Merlin looked like he was about to protest, Arthur held up a hand. “Please, I want to. If you’re late it’ll be my fault; I kept you here too long. Think of it as a...thank you, for keeping me company.”
“It was no trouble, really,” Merlin assures him. “I liked it.”
Arthur nods, pleased that he’s not the only one who enjoyed himself, but Merlin really is going to be late if they don’t get a move on, but there’s one last thing he needs to do first. He pulls his phone out of his coat pocket and slides it over to Merlin. “Can I have your number?”
“Well, I think you’re being a little too forward, but I’ll make an exception for you,” Merlin smirks, grabbing Arthur’s phone, but before he programs his own number into it, he pulls out his own and gives it to Arthur, who does the same. After they’re done and have their own phones back, they both stand and head towards the door, Arthur paying for their drinks by slapping a bill down on the counter, but before they can leave, the Dragon blocks their way.
Merlin looks extremely apprehensive, probably due to his initial introduction to the Dragon a few hours before. Arthur tries to make excuses, but the old Dragon’s having none of it.
“You are two sides of the same coin,” the Dragon says in his deep, gravelly voice. “You are two halves of a whole; together you are one, but if you are separated, both shall fail.”
“Right,” Arthur says, and finally herds Merlin out the door. He pulls out some cash and places it into Merlin’s hand, then hails down a cab. “Listen, Merlin, I’ll be in touch, okay? Hope you get to work in time.”
Merlin gets into the cab and says goodbye to Arthur, but, typical Arthur, he doesn’t notice the stricken look on Merlin’s face and the way he and the Dragon are staring at each other, Merlin in confusion, and the Dragon with what’s almost a satisfied expression.
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Chapter 3
