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Thunder crashed overhead, and Arthur jerked awake. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the small room. Arthur’s alarm clock read 1:35am.
More thunder. The storm was right over the house, and that could only mean one thing.
Well, two things. First, it meant the house staff would be up dealing with the leaks and possible flooding. Second, it meant Arthur was probably already late for the gathering.
He got out of bed and put his ear to the door, checking for any sign of the staff. It was quiet—or as quiet as it could be, considering the rain—so he opened the door. The corridor was empty, and he hurried to the stairs and up into the old study.
It had been a tradition for decades, supposedly, that whenever there was a particularly bad storm, the boarding school’s sixth form boys would come to the study and, well, fuck around and find out. Last time they’d nearly set the house on fire. Arthur hoped none of them were stupid enough to bring their lighter this time.
He waited for another roll of thunder to open the creaky door. Everyone turned to see him come in, and he was in fact the last one to arrive.
“Pendragon,” Gwaine said from where he was perched on a sofa armrest. “Just in time.”
“In time for what?”
“Seven minutes in heaven.”
Arthur’s laugh was drowned out by more thunder. The one lamp in the room flickered weakly.
“I think you’re up first,” Gwaine said, grinning wickedly. “Since you took so long to join us.”
“I was asleep. And surely you’re not serious.”
“Surely I am.”
Arthur looked around at the other boys, but no one contradicted Gwaine. “Don’t you think we’re missing something important?” he asked. When no one answered, he exclaimed, “Girls!”
“Shh,” Leon admonished. “You’ll get us caught.”
“Not all of us need girls to have a good time,” Gwaine said. He was openly bisexual, and openly horny, and clearly he thought he’d come up with the perfect plan to snog some poor unsuspecting boy.
Arthur moved to sit in an armchair, having no intention of playing along, but Lance blocked the way.
“You’re up first,” he said with a knowing smile.
Arthur set his jaw. Lance knew, was the only one to know, might be the only one ever to know, that Arthur was also bi. He’d been sworn to secrecy after Arthur had blurted out the truth over too much tequila last summer. Arthur was fully prepared to deny it at a moment’s notice, but Lance was a good friend. He’d never out Arthur against his wishes.
That didn’t stop him from laughing as hands buffeted Arthur towards the old phone room. Arthur pushed back, nearly knocking Elyan to the ground, but in the end he was outnumbered.
“I’m not doing this,” he said firmly before they shut him in the phone room.
It had probably been a cupboard once. Then it had been used for privacy with landline calls. Now it was just an empty side-room in the study. The door had a window, and Arthur made the rudest gesture he could think of out at his friends before sitting on the floor so they couldn’t see him.
Leave it to Gwaine to convince a bunch of straight boys to play a kissing party game.
But maybe fewer of them were straight than Arthur thought.
Not that it really mattered. Arthur wasn’t going to kiss any of them. Not even—
The door opened and a shadow loomed over him, backlit by a flash of lightning. The boy shut the door behind him and joined Arthur on the floor. Arthur blinked, trying to make out who it was in the dark. It looked like it might be—
Someone shoved a chair up against the door so they’d be trapped in the room for the allotted seven minutes.
“Don’t worry,” Merlin said in a low voice. “I’m not doing this either.”
Absurdly, that stung. Merlin was the only openly gay boy in the house. It wasn’t that Arthur thought anyone and everyone should fancy him—far from it. It was just that he’d always had a bit of a thing for Merlin. It was all the staring at Merlin he’d caught himself doing over the years that had helped him realise he was bi in the first place.
Not that Arthur was going to reveal himself for the sake of a quick snog in a cupboard.
“How’d you get picked?” Arthur asked.
“They voted,” Merlin said, sounding mutinous.
Arthur wasn’t surprised. The other boys all loved Merlin. They especially loved to take the piss out of him whenever possible, as a way of showing camaraderie. Surely tonight they thought they’d come up with the best joke yet—locking Merlin in a small, dark room with a straight boy.
“Sorry,” Arthur offered.
Merlin sighed. “Do you have a watch?”
“I don’t sleep with it on.”
“This is going to be a long seven minutes.”
That stung, too. It wasn’t as if Arthur was under the impression that Merlin was his best friend, but they got along well enough, and the open hostility was a little much.
“We could talk,” he suggested.
“About what?”
“Coursework. The weather. Our deepest, darkest fears.”
Merlin huffed out a laugh. “Oh? What’s your deepest, darkest fear, then?”
Arthur tried to come up with something glib, but nothing came to mind. Then the silence grew around him, awkwardly filling the space with everything he’d ever wanted but been unable to say.
Fuck. He knew there was no way Merlin could know what was going on in his head, but it felt like he was being so obvious, and the silence was practically screaming at him to make a move or at least say something.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked after what felt like an age.
“Snakes,” Arthur said too loudly.
“Hm. Spiders for me.”
“You know Percy secretly has a pet tarantula, right?”
Merlin shuddered. “Don’t remind me. That thing lives on the other side of my wall.”
“It’s so hairy.”
“And big,” Merlin said mournfully. “Nearly pissed myself the first time I saw it.”
Arthur chuckled. “It’s not that bad.”
“Would you say that if it were a boa constrictor living next to you?”
Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. I certainly wouldn’t piss myself over it, though.”
Merlin turned to look at Arthur, and when Arthur glanced over he saw scepticism all over Merlin’s pretty face. There was very little light from the lamp coming in through the window, but it was enough to see all of Arthur’s favourite things about Merlin. Like his invariably soft-looking hair that fell into his eyes, his high cheekbones and the way they cast shadows over the planes of his face, his perfect lips.
“I’ve had exposure therapy,” Arthur said, forcing himself to look away.
“It was that bad, huh?”
“Well… when I say ‘exposure therapy’, I really mean that my dad bought a bag of garter snakes and tossed them on me in my bed when I was half-asleep.”
“Jesus Christ,” Merlin said incredulously.
Arthur had hoped for a laugh. Any of the other boys would have laughed.
But Merlin wasn’t like any of the other boys. He was… different.
“What’s it like?” Arthur asked quietly.
“What’s what like? Arachnophobia?”
Arthur smiled. “No. Being the only gay one.”
Merlin was quiet for a moment, and Arthur wanted to take it back, to make some stupid joke, to cover up the awkwardly exposing enquiry.
“Well, I’m not the only one,” Merlin said. “There’s gay boys in other years, other houses.”
“I guess.” Arthur picked at an itchy spot on his palm, his thoughts an unpleasant whir.
“One day I won’t be close to the only one. Once I’m out of here, at uni or wherever.”
“Are you looking forward to leaving?” Arthur asked.
“Aren’t you?”
In truth, Arthur wasn’t. He didn’t want to give up the structure of the school, the friends he’d made, the reputation he’d built, the life he’d settled into over the past five years.
Logically, he knew that he’d be able to find all those things elsewhere, at uni ‘or wherever’, as Merlin had put it. It was still scary, though, the thought of starting fresh.
“How long do you think it’s been?” Merlin asked when Arthur stayed quiet.
“No idea,” Arthur muttered. Hopefully they were close to the seven minutes by now.
“Do you think they’re having an orgy out there?”
Arthur chuckled. “Seems likely.”
“Especially with Gwaine.”
“Have you ever…?”
“What? Had an orgy?”
“No. Hooked up with Gwaine.”
Merlin snorted. “No. Not that he hasn’t tried, but…”
Arthur looked over. “But what?”
“He’s not really my type,” Merlin said. He was leaning back against the wall, staring ahead instead of looking at Arthur.
“What is your type?”
Merlin pursed his lips. “Dunno,” he said. “Still figuring it out, I guess. You?”
“Yeah. Same.”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend back home?” Merlin asked, finally looking back at Arthur.
“Not at the moment.” Arthur didn’t like to be reminded of that, of her. They’d been on-again, off-again for forever, and he was pretty sure they were off for good this time. There was no point in it anymore, not with their plans to go to separate universities. They might never see each other again.
The worst part was that Arthur didn’t even care. He’d liked her well enough at first, but the long-distance thing hadn’t really been worth the trouble, and the drama when they were together was definitely not worth the trouble, and he’d been distracted by Merlin for most of their relationship, anyway.
“Do you think—”
Whatever Merlin asked was overpowered by a clash of thunder so loud that Arthur startled.
“Jumpy,” Merlin teased.
Arthur’s cheeks heated unpleasantly, and he was immensely glad for the dark.
“What were you saying?” he asked.
“Don’t remember. You know, I don’t think we’ve ever spent this much time together. Not just the two of us.”
The heat intensified and Arthur looked up at the window, praying their time would be up soon. Really soon. Like within the next few seconds. Like right now.
“Hope my company isn’t too bad,” Merlin said.
“Not at all.” Quite the opposite, actually.
Merlin drummed his fingers on the floor in the space between them. Arthur listened to the dull sound, counting each tap against the wood.
Merlin started humming random notes, carrying on until his pinky finger brushed against Arthur’s pyjama bottoms.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“S’alright,” Arthur murmured.
He dared to look over, and of course lightning chose that exact moment to strike and light up the study which in turn lit up the phone room. Merlin was looking at Arthur, too, his expression unreadable.
Rather, Arthur thought he could read it quite clearly, but he was sure he was wrong. Because it looked for all the world as if Merlin wanted Arthur, was longing for him.
But that couldn’t be.
Arthur looked away, staring at the wall in front of him. He was just projecting. Just hoping. Just being stupid.
Silence stretched out between them, with Arthur desperately trying to come up with something to say to break the tension. It felt like the night was closing in, the darkness growing. If it went on for any longer, he might suffocate on it.
More lightning, but Arthur didn’t look back at Merlin. He couldn’t stand to see that expression on his face again. Or any expression, really. He needed space from those pretty features. Space from all of this.
Merlin went back to drumming his fingers, his pinky still brushing against Arthur’s pyjamas.
It was too intimate.
Arthur was thinking about getting up and shoving his body against the door to break out when the chair was dragged loudly away and the door opened.
Arthur exhaled, getting to his feet.
“Fucking finally,” he said.
His friends just laughed.
“No orgy,” Merlin said, his voice close to Arthur’s ear.
Arthur smirked and was about to step out when the lamp flickered and then went out completely as thunder rolled overhead.
Then Merlin’s hand came to rest on his lower back.
Arthur was frozen to the spot. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.
Merlin was touching him. On purpose.
What did it mean?
What else could it mean but the obvious?
The boys in the study groaned and grumbled as they got up from their chairs. A power outage meant the staff would come back from dealing with the leaks to check on them. If they didn’t hurry back to their rooms, they’d be found out.
Single file, the boys rushed out, none of them looking back at the phone room, all of them assuming Merlin and Arthur were at the back of the line.
Only a few seconds passed, and then they were alone. The study door was open, but no one else was in sight.
Arthur swallowed with difficulty.
Merlin’s fingers curled around Arthur’s shirt, pulling it tight. Arthur huffed and looked over his shoulder.
The phone room was even darker now, no lightning or lamplight, and Merlin was barely visible.
“Am I… misinterpreting?” Merlin asked quietly.
“What?”
“This.” Merlin let go of Arthur’s shirt, and Arthur’s breath hitched at the loss of contact. Then Merlin pressed his palm to Arthur’s, and their fingers laced together like it was nothing. “Arthur?”
“No,” Arthur said hoarsely. “You’re not misinterpreting.”
Merlin exhaled and pulled on Arthur’s arm, pressing him against the phone room wall. Arthur gasped and closed his eyes, waiting, desperately waiting.
Merlin moved slowly, stepping closer, shifting against Arthur, brushing the tip of his nose against Arthur’s.
“Fuck,” Arthur breathed, absolutely losing it. His mind, his patience, his grip on reality. Every one of them dissolved as he pushed forward and found Merlin’s lips with his own.
Merlin made a quiet, pleased sound, and Arthur pressed harder, needing more. He needed it all. He got his free hand in Merlin’s lusciously soft hair, holding him exactly where he wanted him. Merlin pressed the whole length of himself against Arthur, and Arthur groaned at the solidity of him, at the warmth of him, at the truth of him. This was real and happening, and Arthur was drowning.
Merlin broke away, just barely, breathing hard against Arthur’s mouth. Arthur licked across Merlin’s lower lip, eliciting a delicious whimper that made something in Arthur’s chest clench tight. He went in for another kiss, licking into Merlin’s mouth, gripping Merlin’s hair harder.
This was beyond anything Arthur had ever imagined for himself. Merlin was kissing him hungrily, and he was kissing back just as much, and they were wrapped in each other, pressed together head to toe, gasping and grasping and clinging to each other, holding on for dear life.
Arthur wanted the room to shrink around them, to tighten against them, to give them no choice but to do this and only this, together, for an eternity.
Thunder rolled gently above the house, and Arthur dragged his lips down Merlin’s neck to the line of his collar bone. He kissed it, nipped at it with his teeth, and Merlin got both hands in his hair, holding him in place as if he’d ever want to leave.
Arthur shifted up, licking Merlin’s neck before attaching his lips there and sucking, tasting Merlin’s skin. Merlin gave a glorious moan and leaned into Arthur, pushing him against the wall so firmly that Arthur imagined he’d sink into it, pulling Merlin with him as they fell into some sweet oblivion.
Pulling Merlin’s hands from his hair, Arthur kissed a trail up Merlin’s delectable jaw, flicked his tongue against Merlin’s ear, and then moved back in for a proper kiss.
“Ahem.”
Arthur turned his head sharply and saw their housemaster standing in the study doorway, the light on in the corridor behind him. The lamp was back on as well.
Merlin shook against Arthur with silent laughter.
“Your beds are empty,” the housemaster said, sounding almost bored. He looked thoroughly unimpressed with the situation at hand.
“Sorry,” Merlin said lightly. He took Arthur’s hand in his and tugged him out of the phone room. “We were just heading to our rooms.”
The housemaster stared at them for a long moment.
“We got lost,” Arthur said, and Merlin sucked in his lips to keep from laughing.
Shaking his head, the housemaster stepped aside so they could leave the study. He escorted them, stopping by Merlin’s room first. Arthur gave Merlin’s hand a squeeze before letting him go, and Merlin gave him a radiant smile as the housemaster shooed him along.
Alone in his room, Arthur sat on the edge of his bed, trying to process everything that had just happened. Somehow it had all only taken fifteen minutes or so, but it felt momentous. It felt unbelievable. It felt like a dream.
Arthur’s mobile buzzed on his nightstand, and he checked it curiously.
It was a text from Merlin, just a few emojis. A yawning face. A sleeping face. A smiling moon. And a love heart.
Grinning madly, Arthur lay down and pulled up the covers. He didn’t think he’d fall back asleep, not after so much excitement, but he could rest. He could re-read Merlin’s text, over and over, his eyes catching on that love heart every time. He could close his eyes and replay every moment they’d spent together, from the embarrassing ‘seven minutes in heaven’ business to the power outage to the kiss. To the all-consuming kiss, to the infinite kiss, to the kiss that would frequent his thoughts for days if not for the rest of his life.
He licked his lips, tasting Merlin on them. Fuck.
His mobile buzzed again, but this time it was from Lance. The text just read, “So…?”
Arthur snickered, put his mobile on silent, and set it back on his nightstand. He would deal with that later. For now, what had happened was just between him and Merlin. Well, him and Merlin and the housemaster. But Arthur would tell Lance in the morning. And hopefully he and Merlin would find ways to make new and properly private memories.
Sleep came, eventually, as the rain died down and the sun rose, and when Arthur finally succumbed, it was with a smile on his face and a spark of hope and something entirely new in his heart.
