Chapter Text
Merlin sat hunched over pages upon pages of sheet music littered everywhere—the coffee table, next to him on the couch, the floor. He chewed on the cap of the blue pen he was currently twirling in the fingers of his left hand: over, around, under, through, repeat. The fingers on his right hand danced against the fabric of his jeans, almost as though the strings of his cello lay embedded there.
He was so engrossed that he didn’t notice the door to the production office lounge opening. “Oi, idiot. You’re going to get ink all over your hand,” Arthur said with a grin, bursting into laughter when Merlin slid off the couch in a heap, sending pages flying.
“Am not!” Merlin huffed, sticking his tongue out. “And thanks for startling me. Now I’ll have to begin again, you prat.” He scrambled to his knees and reached to retrieve the papers that had migrated under the couch.
“No you won’t. You have a photographic memory; you’ll find where you were in a snap.” Still, Arthur joined him on the floor, gathering up the pages that had scattered.
Merlin sighed, leaning back against the table and running a hand through his already-messy hair, which just served to make it stick out at crazy—and, Arthur thought, oddly endearing—angles. “I know. I’m just nervous. I’ve never gotten to score an entire television series before, obviously, and the producers really want the main theme finished as soon as possible.”
“Ah, but you forget. You’ve got an in with the creator, show runner, and head writer. Who all happen to be me.” Arthur spread his hands wide, giving his most dazzling red-carpet-worthy smile. “Really. We aren’t even fully green-lit yet. You’ve got time.” He placed the last few papers on the table and stood, dusting his hands off against his pristine chinos, and holding a hand out to haul Merlin up as well. “Have you even eaten today? I just found you in exactly the same position as when I went to the production meeting at ten. It’s nearly half three now.
Merlin paused, pulling on his earlobe. “Erm, I don’t think so. Someone brought in tea and biscuits at some point …” He looked around, spotting the tray over on the sideboard and nodding towards it. Arthur walked over to inspect it.
“A small cup of tea and not even an entire chocolate HobNob do not a meal make, Merlin,” he scoffed. “Come on. We’ll grab a kebab on the way to the airport.” He started gathering up Merlin’s coat and gloves.
“Airport?” Merlin shut his laptop, stuffing it into his satchel along with the sheet music.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Sometimes it’s a wonder you remember to take your cello to concerts. Yes, the airport. We’re picking Morgana up.”
“Shit, that’s today? Oh no. I’m a hot mess, and there’s going to be press there—she’s an MP, for crying out loud, and you know at least some of the paparazzi will assume you’ll be there too. And then there’s me, in my ratty jeans and t-shirt looking like a charity case for the benevolent Pendragon siblings.” He sank back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.
Arthur threw back his head and laughed, and Merlin peeked at him through his fingers, watching the way his throat moved. He loved Arthur’s laugh, but right now he was too worked up to let it shake him out of his misery. “Really, Arthur. Maybe I should just go home and see you after?”
Arthur’s eyes softened and he came to sit next to Merlin. “Does it really bother you that much? You know I don’t care what you’re wearing, and neither will Morgs. She’s just looking forward to seeing you. It’s been years, and of course she’s been bitching at me that I just would have to come back to London and finally get together with the love of my life while she’s on a four-month charity and goodwill tour.” He smoothed his hand slowly over Merlin’s upper back, trying to relieve some of the tension pooled there.
“It’s not just that,” Merlin muttered into his hands before lowering them to his lap and twisting his fingers together. “You’ve only been papped a couple of times since you got back to London a few months ago, and they haven’t gotten me with you yet. When they do, you know it’ll be a matter of minutes before speculation on your sexuality hits the Internet. And—look, neither of us is in the closet, but the classical-music world doesn’t spend a whole lot of time gossiping about musicians’ sexuality. It will likely have a lot less impact on my career than it could on yours when everybody knows definitively that we’re dating.”
The hand on his back stilled. “I didn’t realise you’d given it that much thought,” Arthur murmured.
Merlin turned to face him. “Of course I have! Haven’t you?”
“Yes, actually, but more because I’ve … I’ve been looking forward to coming out openly. To being seen. I couldn’t bring myself to do it while Father was alive, even once I wasn’t dependent on his financial support. I want to be myself now. And I thought maybe just letting the paparazzi plaster pictures of us all over would be an easy way to do it, whenever it finally happened.” A small frown creased Arthur’s forehead. “Saying that out loud now, I realise … I should have discussed it with you. If you’re not comfortable with it happening that way, I understand.”
Silence hung between them. Finally, Merlin broke it. “We’ve been intertwining so much of our lives the past few months together, it would have been bound to happen at some point.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Arthur sounded wary. Merlin’s eyes widened.
“No! Gods no, Arthur. I want to shout it from the rooftops that we’re together. I just guess I didn’t really think about how we should do that, or if there is even a ‘should’ involved.” Merlin reached for Arthur’s hand, biting his lip.
Arthur nodded slowly, but he wasn’t meeting Merlin’s eyes. “So you’re—you’re not trying to say you don’t want this? Don’t want … me?”
Merlin’s jaw dropped and he felt his heart breaking. How had Arthur gotten that idea from what he’d said? Swallowing hard, he took Arthur’s face in his hands, forcing the blue eyes to meet his own. “Never, ever, would I have meant that. Even when you are being the most insufferable, arrogant, supercilious clotpole I know, I want to be with you.”
The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked a bit at the old insult, and he let out the breath he’d been holding. “Whenever I would do something that didn’t fit with what my father had planned for me, he would call me selfish and a disappointment. I’ve been living on my own so long that I’m not good at considering other people’s feelings when I make plans. And being called out on selfishness …” He trailed off.
Merlin understood.
“That’s that, then,” he announced, rising to his feet and grabbing his jacket and bag. “Let’s go get your sister. If we get papped, fine. If not, maybe I’ll ask Lance about the best way to make our own announcement. I’m not missing the chance to be your date for the premiere of this series.” He grinned widely, dimples showing. “I’ve seen you in a tux, and you'd better believe I'm going to ogle you all night before peeling you out of it later.”
Arthur snorted a laugh. “Sure, put that image in my head right before I have to go see my sister. Not cruel at all, Wyllt.”
Merlin grinned even wider, so that his eyes crinkled at the edges. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”
Arthur woke slowly, enjoying the warmth all along his left side. As he blinked his eyes open, he caught sight of a mop of messy dark hair snuggled against his chest, and smiled. He couldn’t entirely believe that yesterday had happened. He had definitely planned to call Merlin once he’d settled in, but when he saw that the production offices adjoined the television studio where Merlin was doing a talk show, he’d come up with the hare-brained idea of surprising his friend there. Clearly the jet-lag had made him reckless, but he figured, well, perhaps they would reconnect, maybe get a drink or a bite, and he could slowly open up about everything he had been thinking lately. He hadn’t at all intended to wind up at Merlin’s flat where they’d confessed mutual crushes, snogged the daylights out of each other, and eventually had incredible sex before drifting off to sleep.
Not that he was complaining.
Morgana was going to gloat for ages, though.
Thinking of his sister, he remembered he needed to get back to hers to feed that damn lizard at some point. Arthur snuck a peek at the phone on the nightstand to check the time. She’d texted him yesterday, but he had fobbed her off with a bland response about his meeting at the BBC, not wanting to let anyone else into this perfect little bubble yet. But today she might call and ask to FaceTime with Aithusa (“Seriously, Morgs, who FaceTimes a lizard?” “Well if you had a living creature you cared about, you might understand, dear brother.” ) so he should probably get started with the day.
Running his fingertips over the knobs of Merlin’s spine, he pressed a soft kiss to the curls he could reach. “Hey you,” he said softly. “It’s morning.”
Merlin grunted, the puff of air tickling Arthur’s chest. “Mmph, geroff,” he snuffled.
“Actually, you’re more on top of me than the other way around.”
With a whine, Merlin rolled to the side, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Too early.” Then he peeked an eye out to stare at Arthur. “And since when are you a morning person? I used to have to wake you for your early rehearsals.”
“Well, my internal clock is still not completely back on London time, and I have to feed Aithusa before Morgs calls to check in. You could come along, though, and we could grab some breakfast on the way to take back to hers?”
“Mmmm, ‘s long as there’s coffee.”
Arthur snorted at that. “Believe me, I have no desire to try to get you to function without your massive daily dose of caffeine. Now, come on … what was it you used to say to me that was so obnoxious—rise and shine? Let’s have you, lazy daisy?”
“Oh gods, those really are obnoxious when you’re on the receiving end,” groaned Merlin. “I hate me on your behalf.” He grabbed a pillow and mashed it over his face.
Arthur stretched, then dropped his feet onto the floor. “I’m going to pop to the loo while you smother yourself, Strings. And hey, do I need to give Galadriel any food?”
Merlin pulled the pillow off his face long enough to gape at Arthur. “Are you even real? We just got together, what, twelve hours ago, and you’re already adopting my cat?”
“What can I say? I’m practically perfect in every way.”
“That’s Mary Poppins, you twat. And yes, give the cat a scoop of cat kibble. I’ll be out in a tick.”
Arthur grinned and pulled on his pants. After relieving himself and giving his teeth a quick swish with mouthwash, he wandered out to the pantry, the cat twining her way between his legs and purring as he walked. “Oi, you fluffy menace, if you trip me and I fall and bash my head in, you won’t get fed,” he said with too much fondness in his voice for the cat to take him seriously. He gave her some kibble, crouching to scratch behind her ears while she ate.
“That is seriously the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Merlin’s voice, tinged with a hint of laughter, said from the kitchen doorway. “Your character definitely needs to have a cat in your next film.”
“Nope. They’re the worst to work with. Never take direction unless you hide tuna in your trousers.”
“Ha!” Merlin guffawed. “That I believe.” He scratched his stomach absently, bare-chested above his cozy pyjamas. “How far is it to Morgana’s?”
“She’s in Kensington. I’ll call George, her driver. He’s quite possibly the most boring person on the planet—when he picked me up at Heathrow he spent twenty minutes talking to me about the best types of car wax—but he’s at my disposal while she’s out of town. I have the feeling he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he weren’t driving.”
Merlin cocked his head. “I don’t mind taking the Tube, or an Uber, Arthur. It’s not like you have to impress me.”
Arthur stood and walked over to Merlin, settlin his hands on the slim hips. “I’m not. If anything, I’m trying to, well, protect you.” He twisted his mouth wryly. “It’s very possible the news that I’m in London is on my fan-sites now, and I don’t feel like taking the Tube in day-old clothes and making us both run from screaming fangirls.”
“Oh, Arthur—”
“And I'm sure that sounds conceited and presumptuous and maybe really dismissive of your own popularity, but it’s happened on more than one occasion. I needed a bodyguard at my own father’s funeral, and that was separate from the security around all the members of Parliament and the peerage who attended.”
Merlin cupped Arthur’s face and leant their foreheads together. “I’m not such a bumpkin that I wasn’t aware your level of fame is orders of magnitude beyond mine. Nor do I care. I’m not going to turn down a chauffeur who’ll stop and let me buy the biggest coffee with three shots of espresso known to man.” He pressed a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips. “Call George, and let’s get dressed and go.”
Arthur’s leg was jiggling at a truly astonishing rate on the ride to the airport. Merlin wasn’t sure if it was from nerves about seeing Morgana, or the discussion they’d had before leaving the BBC offices, but he felt responsible.
He really had meant it that he couldn’t care less if they were outed. His sexuality had never been on display in his career, but that was largely due to his lack of relationships, not an active attempt to hide it. It would make very little difference to the music world if he were known to be in a relationship with a man. When Freya toured with him and Gwen, her girlfriend often came along, and they were photographed together frequently.
He could understand why Arthur hadn’t yet made a public statement, though.The film industry, it seemed, did hold on to some deep-seated homophobia, and many queer actors felt they weren’t truly considered for straight roles once they came out. Then again, many gay actors had public “straight” relationships to avoid speculation, and Arthur had never done that. He usually wore a cap and dark glasses when he went out in public, but that helped avoid a fan frenzy. And they hadn’t attended any industry events together or dined anywhere particularly posh these past few months where it would have been easy for them to be spotted and photographed.
Arthur seemed perfectly ready to risk the consequences of coming out. Merlin hoped he hadn’t imploded that courage with his own misplaced insecurity.
Reaching across the seat, he grabbed Arthur’s hand, twining their fingers together. Arthur stilled his leg and turned, inclining his head in an unasked question. Merlin gave him a soft smile. “Know what I realised today, Masks?” he said, using the old nickname that was always sure to get a grin.
“What’s that?”
“I am really looking forward to telling the world you’re my boyfriend.”
At that, the tension drained out of Arthur’s body. “I mean, we could just take a selfie and post it on my official Instagram,” said Arthur with a wink.
“Now you know Morgana would never forgive us if we did that right before welcoming her home. She may be your sister, and was always your biggest fan at your shows at conservatory, but she is also legitimately terrifying when she wants to be. Have you seen her arguing in Parliament? It’s amazing any of those old blokes have their bollocks left.”
A barked laugh escaped Arthur. “Oh, she’s completely terrifying. Isn’t that right, George?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know, sir,” came the voice from the front seat. “Ah, here we are, gentlemen. International Arrivals. I’ll be waiting for you and Lady LeFay-Pendragon when you’re ready.”
“Good man,” laughed Arthur. Then he turned to Merlin, pulling their linked hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to Merlin’s knuckles. “All right, Wyllt. Let’s do this.” He opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Well hello there, Aithusa! And how are you this fine morning?” Merlin all but purred, tapping gently at the tank. “Do you want some lovely crickets? Yes you do! Awww, that’s a good lizard.” He dropped a few into the tank, happily watching the white reptile scurry around to swallow them down.
Arthur rolled his eyes, but his tone was fond when he said, “Leave it to you to charm the damn thing. It’s a cold-blooded menace, is what it is.”
“Arthur!” Merlin tutted. “First of all, Aithusa is a she, unless she doesn’t identify with her gender assigned at birth.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Yes. Wanted to see how you’d react.” Merlin’s blinding grin dimpled his cheeks and Arthur couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay, I deserved that. Pray continue.”
“Well, she’s adorable. My great-uncle Gaius had a bearded dragon named Kilgharrah. When I was wee, mum would send me to his when she needed a minder for me, and it was brill because I’d get to feed Killy. He’d just fix you with this unblinking stare and it was like he was seeing straight into your soul.”
Arthur snorted, but his voice betrayed his fondness when he said, “You are the weirdest idiot ever.”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way, you enormous prat.”
“Twat.”
“Clotpole.”
“Dollophead.”
“Hey, that’s my word!”
“Still suits you.”
Just then, Arthur’s phone buzzed. Morgana had texted him.
He held it up. “It’s Morgs. She wants to know if I’m here so she can FaceTime.”
“Oh, that’s sweet.”
“She wants to see the lizard, not me.”
Merlin stuck his tongue out, then winked. “I stand by what I said.”
Arthur typed a quick reply, then set his phone on the table. “Hey, c’mere.” He reached for Merlin, and pulled him close. “Are you okay with me telling her about this? I know it’s been whirlwind fast, but, well.” He swallowed. “She’s the only person I ever told about my crush on you, and she knew I was going to call you when I got back here. In fact, she all but threatened to castrate me if I didn’t. You are welcome to go hide in the kitchen right now and I won’t say a thing about it yet, but, you know, if you don’t mind, I’m pretty sure she’d love to see you on FaceTime and hear the safe-for-work version of our reconnecting.”
Merlin grinned. “I am totally fine with it. Just, er. Don’t tell her I’d literally never even kissed anyone before? I don’t particularly want your sister to think I’m a monk.”
“Oh, she studied medieval history at uni. She'll know you’re far too pure to be a monk.”
Merlin smacked his shoulder lightly. “Wanker. All right then, let’s video chat with your sister. I’m sure this won’t be awkward in the slightest.”
Arthur laughed, one of his full-bodied, head-thrown-back laughs, and Merlin gulped slightly at just how beautiful he looked when he did that. There wasn’t much time to collect himself, though, because Arthur pressed the button and connected with Morgana.
“Well, brother dear, how lovely to see you,” her voice drawled through the phone. “It seems you are at least in my home, so presumably you’ve fed Aithusa?”
“Not exactly, Morgs,” Arthur replied, trying to stifle a smile.
“You arse! You know she needs—” started Morgana, but Arthur cut her off.
“I didn’t, because, well, I met up with Merlin last night. And this morning he came over, and he gave her the crickets.” Arthur flipped the camera and Merlin waved, grinning sheepishly.
“Eeeeeeee!” Morgana’s shriek would likely have shattered her expensive crystalware had she been there in person. “Merlin! Oh my gods, he really called you! I wasn’t sure he’d man up enough to do it.”
“Oi!” protested Arthur.
“I mean it! Merlin, you have no idea. I have had to listen to him whine about missing you for years. Years, Merlin.”
Merlin met Arthur’s eyes over the top of the phone, and mouthed “Years!” at him while Arthur muttered, “I do not whine!”
“Oh, he absolutely does whine,” Morgana continued gaily. “For hours at a time, on occasion. I have never heard anyone so besotted in my life. It was revolting.”
“I don’t know. I think he’s pretty lovely, all things considered,” replied Merlin, eyes twinkling merrily.
“You two! I am right here!” Arthur interjected in a huff. “I should never have let you talk to each other. I regret everything.”
“So, Merlin,” Morgana went on, ignoring Arthur completely. “How did it happen? Did he take you out, or did you just skip ahead to the point where you shagged him senseless? He needs it desperately. Truly, you simply must tell me every detail!”
Two bright spots of color appeared high on Merlin’s cheeks, while Arthur was shaking his head slowly, eyes closed in embarrassment. “I told you,” he whispered. Then, louder: “Welcome to the family. She’s terrifying.”
“I heard that, you twit. Just for that, I’m telling George to make you help him wax the car.”
“No! Anything but George. The man is a walking sleep aid.”
Morgana burst into delighted laughter. When she caught her breath, she resumed, “Well, I’m sure I’ll get the story when I’m back in town. Now, will one of you please show me my beloved Aithusa? And don’t go snogging in front of her. She’s still a child and I don’t want her traumatised.”
“Oh, shut it, you harpy,” grumped Arthur, but he moved over to the lizard tank with the phone and propped it up so Morgana could coo at her pet.
Merlin smiled to himself. He knew Arthur actually enjoyed having Morgana in his life, no matter how annoyed he pretended to be—he used to complain about her descending upon Glasgow like a hurricane, but he always lit up when she arrived, saving her the best comps for his shows and making sure she had a fabulous visit.
As Arthur stood with his arms crossed, waiting for the phone call to end, Merlin sidled up to him, snaking an arm around his waist. “When she’s done, we’ll go back to mine, yeah? I don’t think we’re finished getting reacquainted,” he murmured into Arthur’s ear, eliciting a full-body shiver and an enthusiastic nod.
They made it into Terminal 2 before Morgana had appeared, so Merlin went to grab them some tea from the little Costa kiosk. When he got back, Arthur had staked out a couple of seats near the baggage claim.
“Just like you like it,” sighed Merlin, dropping into the open seat and handing Arthur his cup.
“Ta, love.” He took it with a smile. “I just checked the flight tracker and they landed a bit ago. I’m sure she’ll be through customs soon.”
As if summoned by his words, Morgana burst out of a door, followed closely by her private secretary. “Arthur, darling!” she called across the large hall, striding toward them on astonishingly high heels, the young woman next to her rushing to keep up while dragging the rollaboard bag behind her.
Arthur and Merlin stood just in time for Morgana to sweep the dark-haired man into an embrace. Then she stood back, holding him by the shoulders. “Merlin Wyllt, I must say! You look just as I remember you, although I will say you’ve filled out some since your student days.” Merlin’s ears pinked, but she barrelled on. “Oh sweetie, we have so much to catch up on! I have all your albums, by the way, and your playing is just magnificent. I simply must have you play at the next constituency event if you’re available. Do you know, Arthur would send me videos of you performing and wax poetic about how beautiful your fingers were? I told you, besotted, that one.
Leaning in close, Arthur murmured, “I didn’t tell her why I liked your fingers, of course.” Merlin’s flush spread from his ears down his entire neck at that.
“And you, dear brother!” she cried, kissing his cheek quickly. “How did it happen? Did you show up on his doorstep with roses? Throw yourself groveling at his feet? Stand outside his window with a boombox? You’re not really the Lloyd Dobler type, but I’m sure it was something horribly romantic and straight out of an ‘80s teen movie.”
“Wonderful to see you too, Morgs,” smirked Arthur. “And not to burst your bubble, but he was doing a television interview the first day I went to talk to the BBC production team, so I decided to wait around and surprise him.”
“And we managed to pick up like we’d never left off, more or less,” Merlin added. Not wanting to seem rude—and not wanting to get into all the details of his reunion with Arthur here in public—he turned to the secretary. “I’m Merlin, if you hadn’t gathered, by the way. Can I take the rollaboard for you?”
She seemed a little startled to be addressed directly, but the young woman nodded shyly. “Yes, thank you. I’m Drea.”
He grinned. “It's a pleasure. I’m quite an expert with rolling luggage. My travel cello case has wheels too.” He dropped her a wink, and she smiled before turning to Morgana.
“I’ll just go see about the luggage, ma'am.”
“Ah, yes, it should be out soon. Have you a ride, Drea, or would you like to accompany us and have George drop you off home?”
“My brother is coming to get me, actually, but that’s a very kind offer.” With that, she made her way over to the carousel and reached down to retrieve an enormous case.
Arthur put his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Seems to be the trend today, of wonderful brothers picking their sisters up at the airport, eh?”
Morgana snorted, shrugging him off. “Who said anything about wonderful?"
“Charming as always.”
“You know I am. Now listen, boys—” Arthur rolled his eyes at her, but she ignored him. “I’ve got to get home and settled in, but I really do want to have you round soon. I meant it about Merlin playing at my next constituency event, and of course we need to discuss your pitch for the show so I can run anything that might get too personal or classified by the protocol secretary. You’ll probably need to coordinate our schedules through Drea.”
The young woman returned with Morgana’s impressively large suitcase and her own moderate one. “Pardon me, but Daegal just texted me that he’s waiting outside, so I’m off. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything before we’re back in the office, ma’am.” She gave a slight curtsey and headed to the exit.
“I’ll just text George that we’re on our way out—Arthur, do be a dear and grab my case—and he’ll meet us. And in the car, Merlin, you can tell me all about being a famous musician!” Her elegantly manicured nails flew over her mobile as she relayed her message to the driver and, without looking up, began moving swiftly toward the doors.
“Oof,” Merlin said with an exhale. “I can confidently say she hasn’t changed a bit.” He was looking a bit like a deer in headlights.
Arthur grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly before hoisting Morgana’s case with the other. “Gods, what does she have in here, bars of gold?” he gritted out.
“Four months’ worth of outfits and twenty-three pairs of Blahniks, brother dear!” she called back over her shoulder, as Merlin burst into laughter and Arthur scowled.
“Buck up, Masks. You didn’t get in superhero shape for nothing,” consoled Merlin, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to Arthur’s temple. “Now let’s hurry before she gets George to leave us here.”
They caught up to Morgana just as she slid on her sunglasses and pressed through the exit. And then all three of them froze as a barrage of flashbulbs exploded in their faces.