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kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick · 20 hours ago

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Merry Kissmas, Day 24—Christmas Eve

Arthur is pretty sure now. The events of the last three days have been enlightening.

Merlin feels it too.

He wanted nothing more than to tell Merlin that it was okay, that he had nothing to be sorry for, that Arthur wanted the second kiss too. And a third and a fourth and—

He heaves a sigh as he stands in his kitchen on Christmas Eve morning, waiting for his coffee to brew. There is no work today, but he’s going to Morgana’s Christmas Eve party tonight, which will be in the office, and Merlin will be there.

He didn’t get a chance to tell Merlin anything yesterday. It seemed far too private to say in front of anyone else, and he worried Merlin would be too afraid to meet him in his office again. He considered texting and that was how he realized he didn’t know what to say. Well. He knew what to say, but every way he could think to say it sounded weirdly pathetic. Then he started to doubt if it was the right thing to do at all.

Maybe this is just what it's like when you kiss someone every single day for twenty-three days. Maybe he would have fallen in love with anyone if he did this with them. He certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with Merlin of all people.

This is the doubt he’s been wrestling with, but somehow he knows it’s not true. Somehow he knows this is real.

He knows because of how he always looks forward to Merlin’s kiss. How he always finds himself smiling when he thinks about Merlin, which he does a lot now. The warmth that spreads through him whenever he looks at Merlin, his tousled hair, his ears, the line of his neck, his dirty shoes that are completely inappropriate for an office setting.

He supposes he’s always been a little bit in love with Merlin. But this past month has really brought it to his attention.

At a loss for what else to do, Arthur calls Morgana.

“Hey, Morgana,” he greets, “I was just wondering... is Merlin coming to your party tonight?”

“Yes, as far as I know,” she answers.

“So he hasn’t told you that he won’t be coming after all?”

“Why, is there some reason you don’t want him to come?”

“No, I want him to come. I really want him to come.”

“Is there some reason you think he won’t?” When he doesn’t respond, she continues, “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Er....”

Morgana sighs. “Does this have anything to do with the weird game you two have been playing?”

“How do you know about that?

“Gwen.”

“She told you?”

“I have a right to know when you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“I should never have done any of that stuff in front of her.”

“Oh, she told me about the ones you didn’t do in front of her.”

“Ugh. Merlin. Is there no such thing as privacy?”

“So what’s the problem? Have you fallen in love?”

Arthur is silent.

“Oh my god, you have. Oh, Arthur,” and a hint of humanity slides into her voice, underneath a thousand layers of irony and condescension. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, that’s why you called, you want advice.”

“No, no I don’t want your advice.”

“My advice is simple: follow your heart. Do what it is that you want to do.”

“That’s your advice? Why?”

“Because, I’m pretty sure Merlin wants you as much as you want him and I want him to be happy.”

“You really think that?”

“Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. God only knows why.”

“Thanks, Morgana,” Arthur says, then his sincerity runs dry. “I still think this is a trap.”

She laughs.

He hangs up.

In his own shitty flat that gets shittier the longer he stays at Arthur’s flat, Merlin is also thinking about the last three days and dreading the party tonight. The difference is, he’s still thinking about it in terms of the game. There’s no way he can win, and he doesn’t want to anyway. He thinks a tie would be the most preferable outcome, but at this point, it doesn’t really matter.

Except that Arthur will be insufferable if he wins. And he’ll remind Merlin about it at every opportunity, driving the knife deeper each time. But still, he can’t seem to bring himself to care.

Let him kiss me , he thinks, brooding into his morning tea. I want him to kiss me .

He spends the day dreaming about what it will be like and planning his reaction to it. He has every intention of kissing Arthur back. He’s done that several times and nothing has come of it.

As he’s sitting there, spiraling inside his own mind, he gets a phone call from Gwen and immediately answers it, desperate for anything. “Hello.”

“Hi, Merlin, are you busy?”

“No.”

“Would you like something to do?”

“Yes, please. God, yes.”

“Wow. Okay. I’m helping Morgana decorate for the party tonight and we could use an extra set of hands. And someone taller.”

“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up, leaps off of his chair, and gets ready in minutes flat. He already has his outfit picked out: black jeans that he thinks make his arse look good and an “ugly” Lord of the Rings Christmas jumper with all four hobbits on it.

“That was fast,” Gwen greets him at the door. She’s wearing a red velvet off-the-shoulder dress with her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck except for a couple ringlets that frame her face.

“You look amazing,” Merlin says, taking her in.

“Thank you.” She looks down. “I like your jumper.”

“Thanks.” They hug, and her embrace fills him with a sense that maybe everything will be okay.

“We’re in here.” She leads him further into the building where the party will take place, in the employee break room on the first floor and the wide open space in front of it. It’s a mirror of the second floor where Merlin works and he can’t help but look at and notice all the places that look like the places where he and Arthur have kissed. The front door. The desk that looks just like his. The boss’s office to the side. The table. Against the wall. He tingles at the memories and it makes his heart hurt.

“Lance!” Merlin cries when he sees Gwen’s boyfriend helping Morgana with decorations.

“Merlin!” Lance cries, then comes over and gives Merlin a hug.

“Long time no see,” Merlin grins.

“Yes, too long.”

“Hi, Merlin,” greets Morgana, who is stunning as usual in a green dress, her glossy black hair cascading over one shoulder. She wraps her arms around him and he feels blessed by her presence.

“Wait, I thought you said you needed someone tall,” Merlin says to Gwen, glancing at Lance who is roughly the same height as Merlin.

“We could use two tall people,” she says.

“I can give you a boost and you can help me with these,” Lance says, holding up some artificial mistletoe sprigs.

Merlin looks annoyed at Gwen. “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” she winces.

Merlin shakes his head and turns to help Lance. After Lance gives him a boost and he hangs the mistletoe, he slides down in his arms and they’re left standing together underneath it, looking into each other’s eyes. Merlin blushes, then lets go of Lance, pulls away, grabs Gwen, and throws her into Lance’s arms.

“Hi,” she blinks, grabbing his shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiles, looking at her with the most loving expression.

Merlin watches as they kiss, his smile fading after a moment, wishing he could have the same thing with Arthur.

He feels Morgana’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I have a good feeling about tonight.”

“Oh yeah? What do you know about it?”

“I know.” And there is a strange twinkle in her eye that gives him an unfathomable sense of hope.

Arthur always arrives fashionably late to Morgana’s Christmas Eve party, but tonight he finds himself impatient and eager to get there, so, after delaying his arrival as long as he can stand, he shows up less than an hour after it ostensibly started.

It appears to be in full swing; there are many people there, most of whom he knows, but there’s really only one person he wants to see.

“Hello, dear brother,” Morgana greets in her sarcastically sweet tone, coming at him from the left and putting her arm around him, a glass of what is probably champagne in her other hand.

“Hello, Morgana,” he sighs, slipping his arm around her waist halfheartedly.

“Merlin’s over there.” She points with her glass and Arthur sees Merlin’s dark hair just poking out above the heads of some other people whose faces he tunes out as he hones in on Merlin.

His palms sweat and his breathing is shallow as he makes his way into the breakroom where Merlin is standing beside a spread of Christmas desserts and, to Arthur’s dismay, is talking to Gwaine, looking very excited to be doing so.

Merlin turns when Arthur comes close and immediately looks annoyed. “Oh, of course you’re wearing a Lord of the Rings jumper. And of course it’s that one.”

Arthur looks down at Merlin’s chest and notices he is also wearing a Lord of the Rings jumper. “What’s wrong with this?” he asks, indicating his own jumper, with the White Tree of Gondor on it.

“You’re wearing that because you fancy yourself Aragorn.”

“And you fancy yourself Frodo.”

“Frodo is the main character.”

“And Aragorn is the rightful king of Gondor.”

They stare at each other in hostility for a moment, before Merlin breaks it with a smile, and Arthur has to smile back. “It is a pretty cool jumper.”

“Thanks. I like yours too.”

“Thanks. Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hi, Arthur,” says Gwaine as Merlin turns to fill a champagne flute for Arthur.

“Oh. Hi, Gwaine.”

“Looking forward to tonight?”

“Yeah, it should be fun.”

“I’ll meet you under the mistletoe.” He winks.

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m sure someone will.”

Just then, Merlin hands him his champagne. “Morgana always has the best drinks,” Merlin says. “She has some new purple... punch or something over there.”

“What’s in it?” Arthur asks.

“I dunno.”

“Is it good?”

“I dunno, is it, Gwaine?”

Gwaine takes a drink from his cup. “Very.”

“A bit of advice, for both of you,” Arthur says. “Don’t trust Morgana.”

“I trust her more than I trust you,” Merlin says.

“Oh yeah?” Arthur says, and steps closer to Merlin, who shrinks away just visibly, and Arthur fights the need to back off because Merlin is being ridiculous. “What do you think I’m gonna do to you?”

Arthur sees Merlin’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “I dunno. What are you gonna do to me?” He stands up straighter, practically daring Arthur to kiss him.

Arthur barely manages to tear his eyes away from Merlin’s lips. “Nothing.” He steps back and turns toward the table full of Christmas treats. He picks something up without even knowing what it is and puts it in his mouth. A biscuit.

“Well,” says Gwaine. “I guess I’ll see who else I can trap under the mistletoe.”

Merlin is surprised by how normal his and Arthur’s interactions are that night. All his anxiety melted away when he saw Arthur and they fell into their usual banter. They are inseparable all night. They eat. They dance. They drink. But still, Arthur doesn’t try to kiss him.

Merlin can’t understand why. Arthur would win. He’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain. It’s like he doesn’t want to win. It drives Merlin mad, and he’s torn between drinking as much as he can and staying sober so he can enjoy Arthur’s kiss when it does come.

The night creeps by and still it doesn’t come.

Finally, a slow song comes on and people are actually slow dancing to it. Lance is of course a great dancer and Merlin watches him and Gwen for a moment before Arthur approaches.

“Are you going to dance with me on this one?” he asks, slipping his arms around Merlin’s waist.

A spark crackles through Merlin’s body at the touch and his arms are circling Arthur’s shoulders before he can stop them. “Yes,” he hears himself say.

Arthur smiles at him as they begin to sway and Merlin can’t help but smile back as it goes on. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Arthur’s. They are the only two people in the world and it feels so strange but so right, moving like this.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Arthur asks after long moments stretch out before them.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t tried to kiss me at all. You could tie, you know.”

“I don’t want to tie.”

“Why not?”

This is the moment. Arthur is so close and Merlin could tell him everything, but as he stands on the precipice, he finds he is too cowardly.

Merlin is driving Arthur insane . They are together the whole night, so close they are almost touching, then when they do eventually touch, Merlin won’t tell him what he wants. Maybe it’s all the other people around.

He steps away from Merlin before the song is over and gives him a hard look. Merlin looks surprised, apprehensive even. Arthur looks around for an escape route, sees a broom closet, takes Merlin’s hand, and drags him in there, closing the door behind them.

“A closet? Really?” comes Merlin’s voice in the dark.

“Hang on, I think there’s a light in here.” Merlin is leaning against the wall and Arthur has to reach behind him to find the switch. When the light turns on, he’s crowding Merlin up against the wall.

“What are you doing, Arthur?”

“You have not tried to kiss me all night. Why?”

Merlin’s look of indignation fades into something far sadder until he looks so completely miserable it makes Arthur feel like a terrible person for having done this to him. His arms are crossed, protecting himself from Arthur, but he goes slack, leaning against the wall, all possible traces of anger gone. “You know why.”

All Arthur can hear is his own breathing as he takes it in. He does know why. He’s known it for days. He feels it himself. Neither of them care about this stupid game anymore. It’s gone so far beyond that, it’s impossible to even remember what that was like.

Arthur closes his eyes, then opens them. “Let’s tie.”

“Hm?” Merlin’s brow quirks hopefully.

Arthur takes Merlin’s shoulders in his hands and leans even closer. “I don’t care about the game,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “I just want you. Let’s tie.”

Then Merlin is leaning forward and Arthur has felt his kiss before, in fact, he’s felt this exact fervor behind it, but this time it is unbound by any pretense and Merlin tilts fully into it, grabbing Arthur and holding him close, so close it’s as if he can’t get close enough, their entire bodies pressed together in the closet, and Arthur finally lets himself go too, exploring Merlin’s mouth like he’s always wanted to and it’s warm, heat spreading like fire throughout his body at every contact point between him and Merlin. He pushes forward, crushing Merlin against the wall because he really can’t get close enough.

He has to pull away for breath and to look at Merlin, flushed and disheveled and beautiful in the harsh lighting.

It is far more than Merlin ever hoped for. Even with all the assurances from his friends and his decision to just let it happen and how seemingly romantic Arthur is being, his heart soars like he can’t believe when Arthur says, “I just want you.”

It is like a dream and despite how dirty it probably is in that closet, Arthur’s kiss is pure and right and sets Merlin alight his entire body over and there is nowhere he’d rather be than between Arthur and that wall. He tastes like biscuits and peppermint and champagne and love.

When Arthur finally breaks away, he is glowing. Even the fluorescent lighting loves him.

Arthur strokes Merlin’s face with his thumb. “You are so beautiful, Merlin,” he says breathlessly. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Merlin swallows. “Me too.”

“Now that it’s finally over,” he says, nosing Merlin’s cheek, “I wanna take you home,” a kiss to his jaw, “and I won’t stop until there isn’t an inch of you I haven’t kissed.”

“What? You don’t just say things like that.”

“I do now.” He presses closer to Merlin and a surge of arousal flows through his body like never before.

“Oh god, yes,” Merlin breathes. “Arthur. I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“You’ve waited this long, what’s a few more minutes?”

“An eternity.”

Arthur kisses him again and it’s the first kiss that is free from the confines of the game. It’s strong and it’s sweet and so quintessentially Arthur. Merlin is thrilled yet not surprised at all that he knows it so well.

As they duck out of the closet, saying a rushed goodbye to the party in general, Gwaine can be heard saying to Gwen, “Finally.”

#yaaaaaaaaaaaaay!#finally #merlin #merthur #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #my fanfic #merlin fanfic #merlin emrys #merry kissmas #there is still one more day

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