A Fortunate Fall (15/18)
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Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5492
Progress: 15/18
Summary: Single father Arthur Pendragon, at the end of his rope, finds a miracle in the form of a young cashier boy at the local convenience store. As for Merlin, he's not quite sure about what to make of his new job as an au pair for the wealthiest man in town; but he does know that his employer has more than a few skeletons in his closet.
Notes: I really hate lj at the moment, I keep getting the 'post too large' error! >:/ whyy???
Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fort
--
She didn't even know we were related." Arthur mumbled into his arm. Usually, it didn't bother him all that much--in fact, it suited him perfectly fine that no one knew he was related to Uther Pendragon. For the first time, it bugged him.
"...You guys hardly act like you're related," Kaye shrugged. "You never mention your father, maybe she thinks Uther's an uncle of yours or something."
"No one knows about my father, but you," Arthur looked up. "And what a coincidence that Uther paid off the company debts just now. Did you do this?"
"I don't even know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't," Arthur glanced at him. "I love it when you play the smart guy. Just tell me why you did it."
"I didn't do anything," Kaye shrugged again. "So maybe Uther wants to do something nice for his kid."
"Sorry to sound juvenile, but 'Uther' and 'nice' really don't belong in the same sentence." Arthur rubbed his temple.
Kaye stood in his doorway, "Well, that's very mature, you admitting that you're juvenile."
Arthur felt like hitting him--very hard. "Honestly. If you have that much time to keep mouthing off to me, go make yourself useful and do something else." He shook his head, "you played me, and you know it. I just want to know why you did it."
"Arthur," Kaye began. "There's just...something that you don't get."
"And you get it?"
"It's something you get when you have kids."
"I have Alex," Arthur reminded him rather tersely.
The look that Kaye gave him was not a look that Arthur particularly wanted to decipher right then, "Let me rephrase," he said grimly, "It's something you'll get when you have kids who are estranged. I hope you'll never get it."
Kaye's oldest was Danny, he was seventeen and a handful--into punk metal, liked piercings, having more than one girlfriend at once (Maybe he should introduce Kaye to Merlin and Mordred). Arthur had only met the kid once and wanted to keep it that way.
"Most fathers aren't like mine," Arthur said.
"Most fathers don't try hard like yours, either. You should listen to yourself, you sound like a spoiled brat."
--
"So it still bothers you?" Mordred asked as he set a bowl of chocolate cherry ice cream in front of Alex, who dove in without a care with two spoons, one in each hand.
"Of course it bothers me." Merlin shot his brother a dark look, "Of course it bothers me that my boyfriend wanted drunk sex with me. That means he's not comfortable."
"...Well, cut him some slack, he's been straight for most of his life. And he’s been married too." Mordred reasoned. "Maybe it's a comfort mechanism." He held up a bowl, "...Ice cream?"
"Mordred..."
Mordred crossed his arms, "You know, sooner or later he's going to notice that you're upset and then the two of you have to talk."
"We won't have to talk if he's too busy being depressed too," Merlin reasoned blandly. "Something happened at work or something. Supposedly someone paid off his company debts."
"What's he angsting about that for?"
"I don't know, we haven't talked about that."
In fact, Merlin thought he and Arthur signed a vow of silence without knowing it. They spoke very little, and Merlin went back to taking the bus home. Arthur was tired, Arthur needed his space...but--
"Merlin, you're not going to waste the rest of your life waiting for him to come around, are you? 'Cause that's just stupid." Sugarcoating things was never Mordred's strong point.
"...I don't know," Merlin shrugged. And he really didn't. "That's...sort of what what I want to talk to you about. I want to go home and see Mom. We haven't seen her since forever. Do you want to come with me?"
Mordred sank down into a chair, "...So you're just going to run away."
"I'm not. I want to see Mom."
"Does Arthur know about that?" Mordred dug a spoon into the half-melted ice cream. "Or wait, let me guess--you haven't told him."
"I was going to tell him...tonight, when he comes home."
Mordred sighed a long, overly dramatic sigh and gestured to the chair across from him, "Sit, buddy. You've got serious issues and we're going to work all that out, but you just gotta talk to me."
"Mordred, I'm not Arthur."
"Honestly..." Mordred looked like he wanted to hit him, "If you're going down that road...you're going to be Arthur in no time. I'll go with you to see Mom, yeah. But I really hope you know what you're doing."
Merlin had to wonder about that. Mordred (for once in a too short time) had a point.
--
Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about this new shift backwards in his relationship with Merlin. He wasn't going to deny that he was grateful for the space that Merlin decided to give him, but still. Merlin didn't have to be so self-sacrificing about it.
"Arthur, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Merlin let himself onto the balcony, where Arthur was trying to see how long a single cigarette could last him.
"Okay, talk then."
Merlin joined him at the edge, staying a respectable distance away, "Well," he began, "it's summer, and...I was wondering if you could let me go for a month."
Arthur thought this over. It was not an unreasonable proposition; Merlin hardly took a day off, and it really was summer. Normal people who were not Arthur Pendragon usually took vacations. "Where are you planning on going?"
"Home," Merlin said with a faint smile. "I haven't been...for a while."
Arthur wanted to tell him not to go, he wanted to so badly that it felt like his insides were on fire. But he was an adult, and Merlin shouldn't be subjected to his whims forever.
"Did you tell Alex?"
"No, not yet," Merlin shook his head, "I kind of wanted to okay it with you first."
"It's..." Arthur swallowed, "it's okay with me. When are you leaving?"
Merlin was kissing him, tender, dizzying kisses. "Tomorrow, I'll drop by and tell Alex before I actually go."
"Oh."
Arthur found his arms around Merlin's waist, it was oddly comforting to have him close. Then he wondered if Merlin minded how he tasted when he was smoking.
"Don't you have anything else to say to me?"
"Merlin, I..." What was there to say? What did Merlin want him to say? "About what happened in the hotel, I'm sorry, I was drunk."
Merlin's face was unreadable in the dark, "It's okay."
So why exactly was Arthur left with the strangely miserable feeling that it wasn't that simple? That it wasn't all right? He rubbed his forehead against Merlin's shoulder, "I really am, sorry." As if saying it twice changed things.
"I know."
'You really should stay', was almost on the tip of Arthur's tongue, but somehow, he couldn't say it.
"...What's going to happen to your apartment?"
"Nothing's going to happen to it, hopefully." Merlin shrugged. "I mean, if Matthew and his girlfriend don't tear it apart while I’m gone."
"What about Mordred?"
"Going with me," Merlin said, "I have prove to my mother that I'm doing my job."
"You're a good big brother," was all Arthur could come up with.
And expectedly, he received a, "thank you" with a light kiss to his mouth. Merlin stepped away from him, still holding on to Arthur's hands. "I try...most of the times not hard enough. I'm going home."
"I'll drive," Arthur offered quietly.
"You look tired."
Arthur dug out his keys and dangled them in front of Merlin, "You can drive and I'll ride along. I can drive myself back."
--
"What got into you?"
Merlin sprawled out on the bed, mumbling into his pillow, "Nothing. He didn't ask me to stay."
Mordred was silent for a very long time, "Arthur can go fuck himself." he said cheerily, "I'll pack, you go to sleep."
--
Arthur spent a sleepless night thinking about nothing in particular. He was dreading the doorbell ringing, and he was still in bed by the time it rang at nine in the morning. Alex rushed into his room and pounced on his bed. "Someone's at the door!"
"Yeah, I know." Arthur rolled over on his side, "I know, it's probably Merlin."
"Well, if it's Merlin, you should get up!"
Arthur really did not want to. But he rolled out of bed and reached for the nearest shirt--the one that he had worn yesterday. It probably looked horrible with flannel pants but Arthur could not bring himself to care for the moment. "Okay, okay. I'm up."
He didn't really want to see Merlin. At all.
But when Arthur unlatched the door, there Merlin was. "Morning." He wore a faint smile, "looks like I woke you up. I'm sorry."
Arthur said, "Morning. You didn't."
Alex chirped, "Morning, Merlin!"
There was an awkward silence, but then Merlin knelt down and put his hands on Alex's shoulders. "Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but I've come to say good-bye, Alex."
Alex's face immediately scrunched up, "Say good-bye? Where are you going?"
"Well...I'm going to visit my mother back home, so I won't be coming back for a while." Merlin said. "Not forever, you'll see me again soon."
"But you can't go!" Alex grabbed at Merlin, "I'm going to cry and then you can't go!"
"Alex, Alex..." Merlin scooped him up and patted him on the back, "I have to go, I called my mother already."
"Did Dad say you could go?"
Arthur said, "Yeah, I said he could go."
"Dad--"
"Alexander," Arthur gave his son an equally severe look. "Merlin deserves a break. So I said he could go. Don't give him a hard time about this."
"What's going to happen to me?" Alex asked him over Merlin's shoulder.
Arthur stiffened, "I'm going to call Morgana."
Merlin threw him a wry grin, "Poor Alex for the next month."
"Yeah," Alex chimed in, "poor me, so you should stay, Merlin."
"Alex..." Merlin put him down, "I have to go, all right? You can call me."
"You guys have a phone down there?" Arthur couldn't help himself.
"It's a farm, but yes, it's also the twenty-first century and we have a phone, and cable television." Merlin gave him a look. "I've got to go, the bus down there leaves in an hour. I just wanted to...you know." He shrugged.
Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, and was almost surprised when Merlin pulled him into a tight hug, he could barely breathe. "Take care of yourself, Merlin."
"You too. Don't kill yourself while I'm gone."
"What the hell do you take me for?" Arthur kissed him on the cheek, "I'll probably be in a coma when you come back though."
"Very funny." Merlin turned, "I'm going to go. Bye, Arthur, Alex."
Alex held Arthur's hand too tight as both of them watched Merlin go. "Dad?"
"What?" Arthur picked him up, and this time, Alex didn't make too much of a fuss about it, pressing his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck.
"Is it really okay with you that Merlin leaves?"
Arthur said, his voice not quite steady, "...He's only going to be gone for a month."
"A month is a long time."
Arthur agreed.
--
"Did you even call Mom to pick us up?" Mordred grumbled as they lugged their bags off the bus. "I'm totally not walking a mile and a half with our stuff."
"Come off it, it's just three miles and a half, it'd take an hour." Merlin gave him a look. "Quit whining."
"Sorry, city boy now." Mordred shrugged. "But lucky me, I had a hunch you were going to forget so..." he made a grand gesture in the direction of an old car puttering down the road towards them, "I made a precautionary phone call. I expect you to be thanking me for the rest of your life."
"I have no problems walking three miles."
Mordred glared at him, "Well, I do."
"You--"
The car came to a stuttering stop and their mother got out. Hunith was an elderly woman who looked kind no matter what kind of expression she wore. She looked kind of annoyed now, but also kind of pleased. "I'm seeing my boys for the first time in more than a year, please don't let me see you guys arguing?"
"Mom..."
She kissed both of them warmly on the cheek, first Merlin, than Mordred. "Merlin! You look like you lost ten pounds, you look so skinny; have you even been eating?" A pause, as she gave Mordred a better once over, "And Mordred, you look like you gained ten pounds."
Mordred looked outright indignant, "Mo-om!"
"I guess you can tell me all about it back at the farm," Hunith put her arms around both of them. "My boys are all so grown up."
Now both of them: "Mo-om!"
--
The farm was exactly the same as Merlin remembered it. After they'd left, Hunith probably left the thought of redecorating well alone because there was simply too much to do. The house even smelled the same, horse manure, an overabundance of vanilla scented candle wax. Nothing changed, and Merlin's and Mordred's shared room upstairs in the attic remained exactly the same.
The twin cots smelled suspiciously dusty, but it was home. It was familiar, and Merlin was finally home. He glanced across the room at Mordred rummaging through his bags, "What are you doing?"
"I forgot my Ipod." Mordred sank down on the other cot.
"What a tragedy."
"It totally is!" Mordred crossed his arms, "Stop making fun of me."
Merlin grinned at him, "I know it totally is a big deal. I know."
"Merlin!"
"Boys," Hunith rapped on the door to the loft, "come down, I've got lunch, you can finish unpacking later." She paused, surveying the scene, "Merlin, are you moping?"
Merlin blinked, "No, does it look like I'm moping?"
"Dude, she's Mom, remember?" Mordred poked him in the back, "she's already on to you!"
Merlin wanted to hit him. But he was home, so he did.
"Ow! What the hell?" Mordred rubbed his arm, "I'm going to have this huge bruise tomorrow, and it’s your fault!"
--
"Merlin dear, you don't have to feel obligated to help me with the dishes every time," Hunith stood beside him as Merlin concentrated on scrubbing the soapy plate in his hand. "And you know, if something's bothering you, I'm here. That's why you came, right?"
"I came to see you, Mom, honest."
Hunith just looked at him.
"All right, all right. So I met this...guy, and...I like him. A lot." Merlin sighed.
"Right, that sounds promising." His mother crossed her arms, "What's he like?"
"He's...well," at the moment, it was a bit difficult to pick out what he liked about Arthur, but Merlin rinsed off the plate and set it beside the sink. "He has a son, and a wife who I know nothing about. He's probably an alcoholic, but he probably has plenty of brain cells to spare...because he’s--" he faltered abruptly at the look Hunith gave him.
"Merlin...I love you," his mother smoothed a hand over his cheeks. "...Which makes what I have to say next difficult. Why can't you just find someone that makes you happy? Does it always have to be so hard on you?"
"Mom, Arthur and Alex make me happy." Merlin said after a brief pause.
Hunith thought this over, "...Do you make Arthur and Alex happy?"
Merlin knew he made Alex happy. But Arthur...Arthur was a whole new headache that he really didn't want to deal with. "I try."
"I guess that's all you can do," The creases in her face eased a little as she turned away. "I'm glad you're home, Merlin."
--
Merlin had been gone a week. It'd been a long week for Arthur, and by the looks of it, for Alex too. He'd once renounced sleeping in his father's bedroom as childish and immature, but seemed to have moved back in permanently, in lieu of Merlin's absence.
"Alex, it's your birthday soon, isn't it?"
Alex peered over at him from the other side of the bed, "Are you going to ask me what I want for my birthday?"
"Yeah, do you want a party?" Not that Arthur Pendragon knew squat about throwing a birthday party for a soon-to-be six-year-old, but that was nothing a few phone calls couldn't take care of.
"Dad, do you even know how to throw a party?"
"I could...I could get some people to help me," Arthur said. "Just invite some friends, and we'll play some games and have a good time. I'll get you a cake too."
"Do I get Merlin at my party?"
"Alex..." Arthur had called Merlin twice, and Merlin had called him once. The conversations never really went anywhere, though he wasn't exactly sure why. "I told you, Merlin's visiting his mother. We are not going to bother him on his vacation."
Alex scooted closer to him and tugged at Arthur's arm, "Why don't we ever go on a vacation?"
"I'm busy," Arthur stared up at the ceiling.
"Mr. Hemings is taking his kids to Rome for an entire week," Alex didn't sound too please about that. "And he's even busier than you!"
Arthur really didn't want to have this conversation right here when he was about to sleep, but it was really an inevitable subject. And honestly, Arthur didn't want to tell him that Percival Hemings regarded a week in Rome with more kids than he could handle a vacation because he didn't want to deal with his ex-wives. "Alex...it's not like that."
"What's it like then?" Alex looked at him, "Dad, sooner or later you're going to have to make time for stuff like this."
"I know, Alex."
"Or else Merlin will get tired of waiting for you." Alex flipped over on his stomach, "Night, Dad."
--
For Merlin, he was almost glad that non-conversations with Arthur really didn't go anywhere. They'd had three of them so far, and their fourth one was just drawing to a close. “You should get some sleep, Arthur.”
“...Do you want to be rid of me that badly?” Arthur sounded amused over the phone, but that couldn’t cover up how exhausted he felt.
“You just sound tired and I worry about you,” Merlin laid the phone on the pillow next to him. “And I’m not around that often so...”
“I noticed,” there was a very, very long pause, so long, that Merlin thought Arthur had hung up on him. Then Arthur said, “...I miss you.”
His ears were probably clogged. The attic hadn’t been cleaned for ages, “Arthur?”
Another long pause, then-- “How’s your mother?”
“Mom’s fine,” Proper Arthur, asking after a woman he didn’t even know, maybe that was one of the things that he liked about Arhur. Merlin took a chance and rolled over on his stomach, “...I told her about you, and Alex.”
Arthur sighed, “You’re one of those good boys who tells his mother everything, right? I should have known.”
“Hey.”
“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing,” Arthur hurried to correct himself. “I’m just...what’d she say about me?”
Merlin had to smile, just a little. “What’d you think she’d say?”
Yet another pause, “That I have too much baggage and she doesn’t want you to see me.” As if what Arthur admitted wasn’t the truth, but an unfortunate lie that he’d been forced to deal with.
“Does my mother seem like that type of person?” Merlin had to laugh at that, “she didn’t say that.”
“Then what did she say, Merlin?”
Merlin was quiet for a moment, “...She uh,” how was he supposed to tell Arthur what his mother said? “Um, actually.”
Arthur’s voice was hard, “What did she say?”
“She said...” Merlin swallowed hard, “she hoped I was making you happy.”
“...That’s what she said?”
“Yeah.”
Merlin could hear Arthur breathing on the other end, “...You do.”
His chest loosened, and Merlin realized that he was wearing a smile that only crazy people wore. Mordred lay on his side on the other cot across the room and looked at him. “...Get off the phone with your boyfriend, Merlin. I’d like to get some sleep.”
“Mordred--”
“Does he want you off the phone?” Arthur asked.
“He’s just jealous because you call me and none of his girlfriends give him the time of the day.” Merlin stuck out his tongue (only because Arthur wasn’t here).
Arthur was laughing, Mordred was swearing, and Merlin caught every other world, regardless, it sounded mostly quite obscene.
“Hey,” Arthur said, “Go to sleep, I’ll call you again.”
--
“I’m not sure where I should start,” Morgana surveyed Arthur with crossed arms. “That’s a bad thing, I hope you know that.”
“I do,” Arthur said and at the same time, wished he didn’t. “You should start by telling me how pathetic I am, and then you should play the big sister and tell me how to fix things.”
Morgana set a cup of coffee down in front of him, “Well, fine. You’re an idiot to let Merlin go on that vacation of his. And what’re you going to do about Alex’s party? I’m not letting you throw it here, and I really don’t think you want five-year-olds running all over in your house.”
“It’s not like Alex destroys my house,” Arthur felt mostly obligated to defend his son.
“...Yes, but Arthur, Alex lives in your house and he’s your son,” Morgana tapped her nails on the table. “That sort of changes things, if you know what I mean. Just call the skating rink or a pizza place and have them cater it for you. You’ll get off easy that way.”
“Or I can just convince Alex not to have a party,” Arthur mused to his coffee cup.
“What would that prove?”
“Morgana,” Arthur glanced up at his sister. “For once in your life, please be on my side and just tell me straight. I’m asking you for real.”
“And I’m telling you straight,” she said. “I don’t have any answers I can give you, they’re your problems, Arthur, I can’t solve your problems for you.”
That made Arthur a little bit sour, “You know, you make it sound like I never take care of my own problems.”
Morgana sighed, “I hate to break it to you, but you don’t. Think about it, you complain to Merlin, Merlin’s gone, you complain to me. You’re not even responsible for your son half the day. Even Uther paid off your debts, Merlin’s left you so that you don’t have to deal with your feelings so much--”
“I didn’t ask for Uther to handle my debt,” Arthur snapped. “I didn’t ask for Merlin to leave. I’d deal with my problems if someone will give me the opportunity to. And why are you lecturing me?”
She shrugged, “It’s what big sisters do to younger brothers who complain too much.” Morgana said it with a straight face because it was almost always true, “At least people actually try to bend over to do things for you. That’s usually a good thing...I mean, even Uther bent backwards for you.”
“That doesn’t change anything,” Arthur said tersely.
“Uther hates me, I’m too much like him.”
“And he hates me, you get to stay married.”
Morgana touched his arm, “You remind him of Igraine.” She said softly.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” and though it really didn’t mean a damn thing, Arthur knew his voice was shaking anyway, “I mean--he had no right.”
She wouldn’t look at him, “and you’ve been his son long enough to know that it doesn’t matter. Uther aside, Arthur, did it ever cross your mind at all, to ask Merlin to stay?”
--
“Hey.”
It was a rather dangerous swing that hung on their front porch. It’d broken once or twice and at the moment, the bench looked like it needed a new paint job. The bench also creaked every time Merlin swung it forward.
“I said--”
“Mordred, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. Stop it.”
Mordred crossed his arms, “I’d sit down, but I never did really trust that swing. Is that all you want to do? Mope on the swing and gripe about Arthur?”
“I’m not moping and I don’t gripe about Arthur,” Merlin glared at him. “If you have nothing better to do than speculate about my lack of a love life, go call your girlfriends.”
Mordred shifted from one foot from the other, “Merlin...whether you like it or not, I look up to you. You’re my big brother and that’s what little brothers do. Has it ever occurred to you that I look forward to having what you have?”
For once, Mordred did not amuse him, “Are you telling me you like guys now?” Was there anything Mordred wouldn’t go after? “I don’t have anything, why would you look forward to having what I have?”
“That’s not my point, and no, I don’t. You have Arthur!” Mordred said, “Probably a prick to everyone but you, he takes care of you, and you don’t have to worry so much.”
Merlin glanced at him, “I’m wondering if I still have Arthur.”
“You probably do.”
The bench groaned threateningly beneath them when Mordred sat down. “Mordred, the swing’s going to break again.”
“Who cares?” With a grin, Mordred just shrugged one shoulder at him, “we’ll just fix it again.”
--
“Is this my party?” Alex blinked at the dining table.
“Yeah,” Arthur’s attempt at a smile was only halfway there. “Happy birthday, Alex.” On the table was a cake, pizza, a pint of chocolate chip ice cream and two wineglasses filled to the brim with root beer. “I hope you like. You also get this birthday crown.” He picked it up and set it on Alex’s head. “I crown you Alexander the Great.”
“Did you name me after him?”
Arthur decided on the truth, “Your mother did.” He admitted.
Alex thought this over, and then he looked up at Arthur again, “...Mom did? What did you want to name me?”
“Herman.”
Alex made a face, “Dad...”
“I didn’t want to name you anything, I liked the name Alexander. Your mom just came up with it so I didn’t think it’s right to take credit for it.” Arthur sat down. “Will you have a seat, Your Highness?”
Alex sat, “So you didn’t want to name me anything else besides Alex?”
“I picked your middle name,” Arthur said. “You’re Alexander Lucas Pendragon.”
This didn’t seem to interest Alex as much, as he gulped half of his root beer, “Was Mom a nice person?”
“Alex...why are you asking me about your mother all of the sudden?”
“I dunno,” Alex shrugged. “It’s my birthday and I thought you might tell me things. Can I start on the ice cream?”
Arthur sighed, perhaps hadn’t been a good idea after all. He was never going to listen to Morgana again, “Well, I still might not tell you depending on what you ask me. What do you want to know?”
“I’m the only kid in class that doesn’t know who his Mom is,” Alex stared at him for a long moment. “That’s depressing.”
“Alex--”
Alex busied himself with a spoonful of ice cream, “Did she ever talk about me?”
For a long moment, Arthur had to remind himself to breathe, his eyes were stinging. “She talked about you all the time. I was at work when you walked for the first time, she wanted me to rush home so I could see you walk.”
“Did you?”
Arthur let out a long sigh and dug a spoonful out of the pint, “I wish I had.” Before the pause became painful, he said, “...There was once, when you wouldn’t go to sleep at all, she wouldn’t sleep either. She sang to you for a long time. Gwen wouldn’t let me take care of you. Both of you slept the whole time the next day.”
Alex put down the spoon, “...Merlin’s not like Mom, is he?”
Well. Obviously. Arthur took a long sip of his root beer, “They have a lot in common.” he admitted.
“Like they both want you to be happy?”
Arthur blinked, “What’s...what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged. “I want to open my present now--you did get me something, right?”
Happy to be let off the hook, Arthur dug in his pocket for an envelope that was mostly fresh. “Yeah, here you go.”
Alex tore open the envelope and held up three tickets, “...Dad! Are we really going to Disneyland?”
“...Yeah, we’re really going to Disneyland.” Arthur smiled at him, “But first, you’ve got to do your dad this very big favor, hand me a ticket.”
--
His mother had hired new help since the last time he’d come home. Merlin spent the morning cleaning out one of the sheds with Tommy and his cousin Lee. He learned a couple of things, if he kept busy, he didn’t have that much time to think about what Arthur was doing, and that over the years, his mother had racked up an impressive collection of rakes and brooms.
“Y’know, Mrs. Emrys talks about you all the time.” Lee told him as the three of them basked in the aftermath of their handiwork. (Actually, Mordred was supposed to be cleaning too, except that when work was to be done, his brother had the uncanny ability to make himself scarce to the point of nonexistence altogether.)
“So I guess you know all my secrets, yeah?” Merlin returned easily as he turned towards the door. He probably needed three showers to get the layers of dust and dirt off.
Lee snorted, “That right?”
Merlin shrugged.
Mordred conveniently reappeared when the work was done (usually it happened that way) “Hey, big brother,” he leaned casually against the crooked doorframe, “you’ve got a visitor.”
“If it’s Uncle Maury, tell him to wait until I don’t look like a giant dust ball. I’m almost done here.” Uncle Maury was the crazy old guy that told war stories, he lived one farm over, and Merlin tried to avoid him whenever possible.
“It’s not Uncle Maury, if it was, I don’t think I could have left the house to get you.” Mordred tugged at his arm, “come on, the guys can finish up here.”
“Is it Lara?” Lara was Uncle Maury’s granddaughter.
“If it was Lara, I wouldn’t be here either,” Mordred dragged him towards the door, “I heard she got hot.”
Figured. Merlin just rolled his eyes and let Mordred tow him toward the direction of the house.
--
It was---it was Arthur. It was Arthur Pendragon sitting on their creaky old couch in a shirt and tie. It was Arthur Pendragon, here. It was Arthur. It was Arthur, smirking at him. Merlin thought his knees were going to give away. (But that sort of thing usually only happened in bad paperbacks.)
“Well, hello to you too.” Arthur was speaking (to Merlin) and Arthur was getting up, walking away from the couch, towards him. “Missed you.”
Merlin’s throat suddenly caught, and his eyes stung. He hid his face in Arthur’s shoulder so that Arthur couldn’t see.
“How much did you miss me?” Merlin’s voice was wobbly, so much so that he might have been embarrassed if he hadn’t been wonderfully distracted by the way that Arthur was kissing him.
“Enough, finally.” Arthur said, and he noted that Arthur’s voice wasn’t exactly steady either. (Not that Arthur would ever really admit to anything.)
Merlin couldn’t think of anything to say. So he just stood there holding on to Arthur’s elbows until Arthur leaned forward and licked at his mouth, “Merlin, you look ridiculous.”
Normally, Merlin would have stepped on his foot for saying something so insensitive. But Arthur was here, kissing him in front of his mother and his brother in his living room, and Arthur missed him enough. Merlin supposed that he couldn’t ask for everything.