Chapter Text
Merlin sat in front of the mirror, smiling slightly as he stared at himself.
"Come on." He took generous sips from his small bottle of beer, then set it down on top of Freya and Will's engagement party invitation. He tried smiling some more in the mirror in hopes of finding his 'best looks'. It wasn't working terribly well.
"Hi," he said, as pleasantly as he was capable. He groaned, "What?"
"Hello, Rose. I'm Merlin." He looked down to where he was gesturing, and grimaced. "Wha... What is this? Why...?"
He cleared his throat. "Has it...?" No. "What's your, uh...?" Nope.
"Hey-- It's Rose, right? Isn't it? Is it Rose? I mean," he backtracked, "not as in 'Rose Wright'." He chuckled, still gesturing. "Like, your name's not 'Rose Wright'. Though it could be. You could be 'Miss Rose Wright'. You could be 'Missus Right'." He forces a laugh. "Either way, you're the right Rose for me."
Oh, my God.
He nodded at himself. "You can do this. You just put yourself out there. See what happens." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Just don't drink too much."
He snorted unattractively.
"Good. And you're going..." He put the stupid lei over his head, so it hung on his neck. He looked back at himself. "You're going. You're gone."
He stood up and strode purposefully through his hotel suite to the door, and pulled it open forcefully. He promptly closed it again, still inside the room. He strode back to the mirror.
"Oh, fuck it," he mumbled, taking off the damned lei. The bottle of cool beer looked delicious, and he sipped some more of it gratefully.
Once he'd called for room service and changed out of his ridiculous suit, into a more comfortable hoodie and some sweatpants, he climbed onto the bed. The Silence of the Lambs was playing on TV, one of his favorite movies, and he mouthed along to the lines as he ate some crisps.
"Terns? If I help you Clarice, it will be 'turns' with us, too. Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things. Not about this case, though-- about yourself. Quid pro quo. Yes or no?"
A knock on the door startled him, and he quickly powered off the television during Lecter's next line. The door opened to a heavy-set, but nice looking young man with a trolley which carried, Merlin assumed, his dinner.
"Hi!" the man said cheerfully.
"Hi."
"Room service?"
"Oh... yes!" Merlin backed away from the door and gestured further into the room. "Right this way." He sprawled back on top of his bed, his spirits somewhat lifted. Food could solve many things, he reasoned. At least for a little while.
The server smiled as he stopped the trolley in front of him, and prepared his meal for him, pouring him some wine as well.
Merlin snatched a piece of bacon, and mumbled happily. "So, tell me... Joseph. Can I call you Joe?"
"Of course you can, yeah."
Merlin nodded. "So, Joe, how is the party going on downstairs?"
Joe completed his tasks, and turned to him. "Going pretty well, I think."
"Is it?"
"Yeah, yeah." Joe said quietly, "You know, there's food down there."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Merlin said quickly. "I - I'm just not really in the party mood tonight." When his ringtone started to chime, he reached for his phone on the bedside table. It was Gwen, because of course it was. He decided to just answer the phone, knowing there was no use in delaying this conversation.
"Do you have any ketchup, Joe, please?" he asked as he put the phone to his ear.
"Oh, yeah."
Merlin nodded his gratitude. "Hello?"
"Who's Joe?" came Gwen's voice from over the receiver.
"Mm," Merlin licked his fingers clean and looked at Joe as the man came up with some ketchup. "A very nice young man who's just brought me dinner."
Gwen sounded put out when she asked, "You're not at the party?"
Merlin swallowed around another piece of bacon. It was quite delicious, extra crispy and warm. "I'm not at the party, but I'm at a party. You know, Hannibal and Clarice are here, not to mention Joe."
Joe handed him the receipt, and he quickly signed it. The signature was not at all legible, but it didn't seem to matter, never really did, and he gave the little booklet back to his server. "... But he's just leaving."
"No, all right. Put him on, please."
Merlin groaned, but called out, "Joe? My friend would like to speak to you." He held out his phone for the man to take, muttering a quick apology.
Joe 'ahem'ed a couple of times before saying, "Hello?"
Merlin couldn't hear what Gwen was saying, but didn't worry too much about it. The burger he was enjoying was just a bit distracting. That was, until Joe said, "Ah, yes okay."
The man had grabbed the suit Merlin had hung up on the closet door, and was bringing it back to him. "Oh, no," Merlin protested. "No, no, no. No, no, Joe--," but the suit had already been placed on the bed. Merlin rolled his eyes in irritation. Gwen wasn't even here, and she still managed to have everything her own way. "Okay, that's enough." He set down his burger, reluctantly, and made grabby hands for his phone. "Joe, do you have a napkin or something, please?"
"Oh, yes." Joe gave him his phone back, looking rather relieved. Merlin didn't blame him.
"Look, Gwen, I've been ambushed. Some setup with a girl Freya worked with--"
"Well, excellent!" Gwen interrupted excitedly. "This is good."
Merlin moved up onto his knees when Joe handed him a napkin. "Come on," he grumbled, leaning against Joe for support. "It's just all so organized and awkward and I can't bear it."
"I know, but how the hell else are you going to meet someone?"
"Well, I've met Joe," Merlin said hopefully, looking at the man he'd been leaning up against. But, "No, he's leaving. All right, he didn't like that. Um," he called after the man, "could you put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on, please, Joe?"
"No, don't do it, Joe. Take him with you!"
Merlin winced at Gwen's raised voice, pulling the phone away from his ear slightly. "Ugh-- You're yelling."
"Look, you've gone all the way there. Just, put your suit on. Pop down, show your face. Stay, like, ten minutes."
Merlin wished he had a wall to pound his head against. As it was, he was much too lazy to crawl to the nearest one, metres away. "The party's themed, Gwen."
Merlin was not impressed as Gwen giggled. "Oh, God, really? Get your notepad."
The thought of his notepad, and subsequently, what Gwen was bound to make him do with it, made him seriously consider going the extra few metres to slam his head into the wall. Maybe it would knock him out, if nothing else. "No, please," he begged. "Come on, I'm too old for this shit."
Gwen sounded particularly stern when she said, "You're 32, not 82."
Merlin huffed, but gave in eventually. He took a cursory look around the room and found his notebook lying on his pillow. Where he had left it, would you look at that.
"Come on, let's hear those mantras," came Gwen's voice once he'd grabbed the pad.
Merlin rolled his eyes, but cleared his throat as he reached the right page. "Put yourself out there."
This was ridiculous.
"Good," Gwen encouraged.
"Take chances."
"Uh-huh. Now a little less hollow and robotic."
✯☽☀☾✯
Merlin continued his mantras down the elevator. He'd had them for about four years now, ever since the horrid break up with Vivian. It was around that time that he'd gotten all depressed and whatnot, hurt and upset that he had wasted so many years (six, to be exact) on a girl he thought he loved, but who clearly did not feel the same about him. It was Gwen who sat him down and insisted he stop wallowing in his self-pity and get his life back on track. She was the one who'd made him come up with the little self-confidence boosters, and Merlin had been, at least a little bit, grateful to her for it. They had managed to help some, but it was moments like these when he felt too old for his age and pessimistic towards almost everything that he found them more nonsensical than helpful.
He liked to think he was a realist. He was a writer, after all, and so he spent a lot of time thinking about things. More and more recently, specific things - like love and relationships, and how they came to be, how they stayed that way. And sex. He thought about that a lot, too. Clearly he wasn't the posterchild for good and loving relationships, but he liked to believe that he knew a thing or two about it, all the same. And he had certainly come up with many opinions concerning it. In fact, if he wanted, he could probably write a book.
Maybe he would. 'A Realist's Guide to Working Relationships: Just Don't Have One'.
He cringed. Maybe he would think more on it before he got to work.
The elevator dinged and the mechanic doors slid open to reveal an empty hallway. The sounds of music and a party were coming through the doors that stood closed right in front of the elevator. Merlin hurriedly stepped out, continuing his mantras quietly regardless of what he really thought about them.
"Get stronger biceps." He stood in front of the doors, hesitant to open them. "Be more outgoing. Learn Welsh. Drink less. Exercise more. Understand the Israeli-Palestinian conflict better." Merlin finally put his hands to the door and pushed them open. "Engage with..."
Oh, God. So many people. People with hula skirts and colorful t-shirts. People with leis (and, fuck, he'd forgotten his) and flowy dresses and shorts and loose trousers. People with any number of assortment of drinks and pineapples and cherries. Carefree people, laughing people. And then there was awkward Merlin in a damn suit and tie. Why did he think this would be a good idea? Oh, yes...
"... life."
Will spotted him almost immediately, rushing over with a lei in hand (because, of course) and put the thing over Merlin's head. Merlin was really getting rather tired of the things.
"Finally!" Will exclaimed. "Nearly sent out a search party."
Merlin forced a laugh. "Better call them off then."
Will grinned and turned just in time to grab a couple drinks from a passing waiter. "Here, have a mojito," he said, passing a glass over which Merlin took gratefully. He ignored the little umbrella, going right for the straw. "First one's free. Paid for them with all my savings, and now I have no savings."
Merlin chuckled, genuinely this time. "Happy engagement, Will." They both stepped closer to reach their arms around each other and squeezed. Merlin was very happy for Will and Freya, two very close friends of his, despite any of his misgivings. They broke apart when Merlin heard a squeal.
A tiny body collided with his own, arms wrapped so tight around his neck he thought he might suffocate, and Christ, Freya was stronger than she looked.
"Wow, hello there," Merlin choked out, patting her back gently.
She released him, thankfully, and pulled back to grab his hands, jumping up and down. "He's here, he's here. Oh, Merlin, you look wonderful!"
At his friend's warm welcome, Merlin felt guilty that he'd almost not come down before. They were both quite lovely, and deserved all the congratulations that he managed to give. "Cheers."
Freya squealed some more, something she only did when she was both incredibly excited, and incredibly wasted. She grasped Will's upper arm as she insisted, "Oh, he's going to love him. Come on."
Will helped push Merlin farther into room while Freya gestured encouragingly. "Come on, come on."
Merlin, slightly confused, tried to protest, "I need a moment longer with my mojito and then I can jump in."
Freya shook her head, pulling on Merlin's empty hand. "He hates facebook. He loves yoga. He's really creative..."
"Oh?" What the hell was she talking about?
"And he's perfect for you!" she finished happily.
Who? Merlin wanted to scream. He? Who the fuck was he? Merlin could only nod at the couple. They were probably just too drunk to even know what the hell they were saying anymore.
"We were set up," Will said, which Merlin thought was a stretch from what had really happened, "and look at us now."
Merlin tried not wince when Freya proudly showed off her ring finger, and they both started kissing frantically. Though, in Merlin's opinion, it looked more like they were trying to eat each other's faces rather than an actual kiss.
Merlin laughed forcefully. "Do you know Will? It's like your single years have been completely wiped from your memory. I mean, do you remember--" What was he doing? "Do you remember that one girl who just cried? She cried all the way through giving you a blow job." Please, Merlin, please shut up. You're not even drunk yet. "She was weeping." He mimicked gagging and sobbing at the same time. "So sad. Do you remember..."
He trailed off at the looks on his friends' faces. Holy shit, what was he doing? Why did he say that? He was such a god-awful person. This was exactly why he didn't want to come tonight. Or, at least, part of the reason. He really was unable to keep his opinionated attitude to himself. "And look at you now," he tried to save himself. "Look at you both. Yeah, really special."
Will seemed to ignore the whole thing, for which Merlin was grateful. "Come on, Merls. Give him a chance."
Back to that again, were we? He still hadn't the slightest idea about whom they were speaking of, but perhaps if he played along they'd get to the point.
He chuckled too loudly. "Sure, okay. Bring it on. You know, like me, another sad loser in his early-30s, right?"
"No. I'm actually a sad single loser in my late-30s."
Merlin spun around, so quickly he thought he might've gotten whiplash, and he resisted the urge to clutch at his head. A man stood there, also in a suit but without the tie, holding a drink of his own. He did look to be in his late-30s, tall with curly brown hair and a shy smile. Merlin raised a brow in surprise.
Freya, luckily, jumped in right there to save him. "Merlin, this is Ross! Ross, Merlin," she introduced, and oh.
Ross.
Freya and Will left them to themselves, with Merlin silently freaking out. How the fuck did he miss the fact that they'd set him up with a man. Why did they think...? It wasn't that he really had much of a preference, true, as he could appreciate a lovely, firm chest as much as he could a plentiful bosom. But he'd never told anyone that.
Merlin smiled awkwardly at the man, trying to push the thoughts from his head. He clumsily tried to switch his drink to his left hand so he could shake the man's hand that he was holding out.
The man laughed and appeared to be just as awkward as he felt, Merlin was glad to note. "Um, right. Ross, 37."
Merlin nodded. "Merlin, 32." They kept shaking hands, and Merlin wasn't sure he knew how to let go. It felt like, in his anxiety, his hand had frozen and clamped up like that. "Sorry, my hand's a bit wet. It's not wee," he was quick to point out, for a reason that he really couldn't figure out at the moment.
Finally, the man - Ross - was the one to let go. "Oh, right."
"Yeah," Merlin went on. He really wished he'd shut up. "It's mojito."
Ross started to nod and then shake his head. Merlin always knew he could bewilder people like that, and he hated it.
"I mean," Ross finally said, "I didn't think it was wee."
Merlin nodded quickly, and then couldn't seem to stop. What was wrong with him? Well, other than the obvious.
"Yeah, I mean, why would it be wee? That would imply very poor personal hygiene. I mean I don't," he started gesturing with his free hand, and he wished he'd stop. "... I wash my hands," he finally said when Ross looked mildly uncomfortable. Merlin elaborated, "Just like everyone else does."
"Well, that's a relief," Ross said. He still looked uncomfortable. Merlin hated himself.
He clamped his jaw shut before anything else terribly unwise could come out, and mentally reminded himself to add 'Learn how to better socialize' to his list of mantras. In the awkward silence that ensued, Merlin could only take small sips from his mojito. He wanted to leave.
After another excruciating few moments, Ross spoke up. "Uh, how about another drink?"
Merlin didn't even think about the fact that his first one wasn't even halfway finished. Which was rather surprising, all things considered. He just said, "Yeah, that would be great. Yeah."
Ross led him to the bar, and Merlin tried to put on a brave smile when he saw Freya and Will waving at him and giving him a thumbs up.
When they reached the bar, he saw Ross reaching for his wallet, and immediately said, "Oh, let me get these." He reached into his back pocket for his own wallet, hoping against hope that he at least would've had the foresight to bring enough cash. He already felt bad about his first impression, and he hoped he could make up for it.
"Oh, no, it's fine," said Ross.
"No, it's alright," Merlin tried to argue, but he couldn't seem to get his damn wallet from the tight pocket.
"No, no, seriously," Ross insisted, his wallet already in hand.
Merlin felt guilty, but figured the night couldn't get any worse after this, so conceded. "Great. Cheers, mate." At Ross' nod, he added, "I'll just get the next round, shall I?"
Ross just smiled slightly and nodded some more in agreement. Merlin wanted greatly to avoid another awkward silence, and desperately looked around the general vicinity for a new topic. He found one from a picture in Ross' wallet that he still had open. It was of a young man with a handsome smile.
"Ah, busted," he said. At Ross' curious look, he pointed at the picture. "You've got a picture of your ex in the old wallet."
Ross chuckled hesitantly. "Oh, no, that's my brother."
Merlin wished he would learn to think before he spoke. His mother always told him it wasn't right to just assume things. "Oh--" he said, trying to salvage the situation. "Well, he's very handsome looking. I bet he has all the girls' and boys' attention."
"He's, um, dead."
Merlin blanched and had to turn away. "Wow," he muttered miserably. "It's going so well." He gulped down his mojito.