Work Text:
Merlin had been looking forward to this day for what felt like an eternity. The sun had set a while ago, and the sound of the microwave popping one sugary kernel after another filled the flat. Merlin breathed in the caramel scent wafting up from the bowl as he made his way to the sofa and exhaled a contented sigh. His roommate, Arthur, was going to be out with his friends until the early hours of the morning. It was perfect. He made himself comfortable underneath a fuzzy blanket, finally ready to enjoy the luxury of watching his show on the big screen in the living room. And not just any show. No. The first two episodes of Heated Rivalry had dropped on that Canadian streaming service nobody outside of Canada had previously heard about. Well, at least Merlin hadn’t.
“Ilya Rozanov? Shane Hollander. I- I wanted to introduce myself.”
Oh, this is going to be brilliant, Merlin thought and thanked all the gods and goddesses he knew for having the place to himself that night. Or so he thought. Not even two minutes into the bliss of watching those first scenes, Merlin’s ears picked up on the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the door. No. No no no no no.
He sat up abruptly. Thank god, the show had only just started, and as Arthur strolled around the corner, it was just a montage of them actually playing hockey. Merlin had read the books. This could have been way worse. Arthur might have known that Merlin was gay and didn’t seem to mind. But it was one thing for straight men like him to accept homosexuality as a concept and another to be confronted by the reality of it. Merlin paused the screen as more and more people filed into the living room. Well, fuck.
“Hey, Merlin. What’s up?” Leon asked. A nice fellow, overall, but best of friends with Arthur Pendragon, so there must be something wrong with him, after all. In the few months that Merlin and Arthur had co-existed in this flat, he had learned two things about Arthur Pendragon. He was a very sociable guy who could just about click with anyone. Merlin, however, seemed to be the exception to that rule. He didn’t know why. They were perfectly friendly with each other, but there seemed to be a barrier between them that Arthur was reluctant to cross. Maybe it was the gay thing, after all.
Merlin greeted them and soon learned that the pub they frequented had been temporarily closed for renovations after a health and safety inspection. Figures.
“What’re you watching?” Gwaine asked, leaning over the back of the couch.
Merlin cringed. That’s exactly why he had wanted to watch the show alone. “Erm… it’s about hockey. I just started watching it, so yeah…” he trailed off, still hoping they would turn around and leave to seek out some other establishment that would serve them their beloved pints. There didn’t seem to be a shortage of those in the city.
“Hollander…” Gwaine read the player’s jersey that the screen had paused on. “Wait, that rings a bell. Is it that gay hockey show? Heated… something. No, don’t tell me.” He shook his head and snapped his fingers excitedly. “Rivalry.” He jabbed his finger at the screen. “Heated Rivalry, right?”
A bit of the tension fell from Merlin’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help but laugh at Gwaine’s excitement. “I didn’t think someone like you would have heard about it,” Merlin admitted.
Gwaine furrowed his eyebrows. “Someone like me?” He asked with a sly smile playing on his lips.
Merlin wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. The fact that he had always thought that Gwaine was the most attractive of Arthur’s friends didn’t help at all. “You know… like a,” God why had he opened his mouth in the first place?, “a laddish sort of guy.”
To his benefit, Gwaine just laughed uproariously at that. “God forbid a lad is knowledgeable about pop culture. Also, I’m bi, so.” Gwaine shot him a wink.
Merlin wanted to die.
More so, when five minutes later, Gwaine had ordered the others to make themselves comfortable because if they couldn’t go to their favorite pub, they might as well stay in and have a beer while learning about the story of a Russian immigrant playing his way to the top. Another wink at the double-entendre only Merlin was able to catch.
And so Merlin found himself squeezed between Leon and Arthur on the couch, while Gwaine and Percival occupied the space on the floor in front of them. Gwaine had taken charge of the remote control and rewound so they could watch it all from the very beginning.
Merlin remembered the time Hunith had scraped together enough money to surprise him with a visit to the amusement park for his thirteenth birthday. He had been so excited to experience a rollercoaster for the first time. The kids at school couldn’t seem to get enough of them after Mordred’s twelfth birthday party, which Merlin had not been invited to. Though as they neared the top and they seemed to be teetering on the edge, he had felt the sudden urge to stop the ride and climb back down. Then came the drop and that disconcerting feeling in his stomach. The very same sensation was currently replicated by the prospect of watching what he expected to be a bunch of steamy gay sex scenes with Arthur and his friends.
“You’re an awesome player to watch.”
“Yes.”
“God, what a dick,” Arthur laughed, and Merlin couldn’t help but roll his eyes because if Ilya’s reply wasn’t the most Pendragon reaction to a compliment, then he didn’t know what was.
It was around the fifteen-minute mark when the other shoe dropped for Arthur, Leon, and Percival.
“Wait… is he?” Leon’s eyes bulged.
“Is he stroking it?” Percival asked, his voice merely a whisper as if not to disturb the actors on-screen.
“Yup,” Gwaine said, emphasising the plosive and chuckling with glee.
Merlin stayed quiet. All too aware of how Arthur’s shoulders had tensed up next to him. With their arms pressed up against each other, he noticed too how the tension only eased infinitesimally once Ilya and Shane were back in the locker room. Merlin supposed Arthur’s reaction could have been worse. He could have ridiculed the show or made some other throwaway remark, but he stayed completely quiet, leaving Gwaine, Percival and Leon to be the only ones to comment on what was happening on-screen. Merlin, unsure of how to navigate the situation, chimed in only occasionally, out of fear of alienating his roommate any further. He really didn’t want to look for another flat anytime soon. This one was very close to campus, and it was also not mouldy. All of that for the price of 70% of his monthly income at his barista job. What a steal. Also, Arthur wasn’t too bad of a roommate, albeit a bit distant and “laddish”.
Leon, bless him, kept his commentary restricted to the cinematography, praising certain angles and shots with a supportive naivety. Gwaine usually responded with a crude remark about which angles he would have preferred, making Percival choke on his beer until he was completely red in the face.
“Jesus, Gwaine,” Percival muttered at one point, a little out of breath. Merlin was surprised by how gentle the admonishment came out of the mouth of this mountain of a man. And Gwaine just shot him a smirk and squeezed his thigh, causing Percival to swat his hand away the first but not the second time.
Interesting, Merlin thought to himself. Maybe Gwaine was not the only person in Arthur’s friend group that he had misread.
“See you next season.” Ilya called out for Hollander as he was left to stand alone on the rooftop until the credits began to roll.
“Elyan’s just texted,” Leon announced, checking his phone. “He just got off work, asking if we want to get a pint at O’Connor’s.
On the inside, Merlin was celebrating a little bit. To be fair, watching the show with them hadn’t been as awkward as expected. However, it had still been pretty awkward. But the prospect of being able to watch the second episode on his own was calling to him. Maybe he would even rewind to some of the scenes in episode one. Could you blame him? Mainly, he was interested in the V-shaped muscle peeking out from the towel slung around Ilya’s hips.
One by one, the others got up to put on their shoes and jackets. Arthur, though, didn’t seem to be in a hurry at all. No, he just helped himself to the half-empty bowl of popcorn Merlin had abandoned on the coffee table for fear of choking to a premature death about halfway through the episode.
“Hey, give Elyan my best, will you?” Arthur called out to his friends, receiving the obligatory admonishments at his refusal to join them in return. But Arthur just laughed good-naturedly and waved them goodbye.
“Not a fan of O’Connor’s?” Merlin asked, more confused than annoyed at Arthur’s reluctance to get up from the couch and join his friends. But Arthur just shrugged noncommittally and clutched the bowl of popcorn in front of his body as he finally got up and began to retreat to his room. “I think I could use an early night,” he muttered, sending a final nod his way before closing his door behind himself.
And just like that, Merlin was alone in the living room again, slightly dazed and unsure what had just happened. Well, he decided he might as well clean up and watch the second episode in his room. He had just dried off his hands after washing the dishes when he heard a loud thump coming from Arthur’s room. He paused in front of it on the way to his own and lightly knocked on the door. “Arthur, is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Arthur’s voice passed through the wood. It had a strained quality to it. “Just tripped, is all.”
“Okay,” Merlin lingered, feeling stupid, “good night.”
“Night.”