Chapter Text
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Chapter 1
B is for Beginning
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Arthur met Merlin at a bus stop. He wasn’t waiting for the bus, of course. He was waiting for a taxi, and the bus stop just happened to be a convenient place to wait out of the freezing rain. And then a young man strode up, completely soaked and pale with the cold. He was dressed in the tightest leather pants Arthur had ever seen, along with a tiny black vest that left a strip of his pale belly clearly visible. He was also, inexplicably, only wearing one studded boot, making him limp oddly as he walked over and plopped down on the bench.
He didn’t acknowledge Arthur at all, not even the surprised glance people usually shot him when they abruptly realized how incredibly attractive he was, and he was scowling darkly with his arms crossed over his chest. He was shivering, though, and Arthur had shrugged out of his thick long coat before he’d even realized he was doing it.
“Here,” he said to the stranger, holding it out to him.
“I don’t need your coat,” he spat out angrily.
Arthur scowled and pursed his lips. “Good, because I am not giving it to you. And I am not taking you to the hospital when you keel over from hypothermia, either.” He pushed the coat at him again.
The man looked at him then, really looked at him, and when he smiled it transformed him from, essentially, a wet rat, into one of the most beautiful men Arthur had ever seen. Arthur felt himself starting to blush, but despite himself his arm didn’t waver, holding out the coat insistently.
“Thanks,” the man said, finally taking the damn thing. Arthur stared at his hands, practically encrusted with heavy metal rings, as he wrapped the coat around himself with a happy sigh. “My name’s Merlin, by the way.”
Arthur couldn’t really blame him for giving out a fake name but he was a little offended that he hadn’t even tried to make it believable. Honestly, who was named Merlin? He briefly considered coming up with a fake name of his own and then gave up, deciding that in this situation his real name would seem fake enough.
“Arthur,” he said. And then he had to look away, because the way Merlin was looking at him was making his stomach flip over and his heart beat faster. And he was not about to make a fool of himself in front a total stranger by doing something stupid like blushing, or stuttering through a pathetic attempt at asking him out. Arthur nervously adjusted his tie and pulled his suit jacket tighter around himself to try and keep out the chill.
He would have been totally content to sit there in complete silence, but now that Merlin was in a good mood it became apparent that he was a talker. He talked and talked and talked, and some of the things he said were so absurd that Arthur just had to answer him, and before he knew it they were chatting as though they were old friends. The kind of old friends that insulted each other constantly because they knew perfectly well that none of it would be taken personally, who joked easily and frequently, whose conversation was filled mostly with rubbish and laughter.
The cab was taking ages, and soon Arthur had learned the abridged version of Merlin’s life story. Like that he was a professional dominatrix, and that his last client had turned out to be a complete asshole and also a liar, which is why he’d left in a dramatic huff – forgetting most of his things, including one of his boots. And his whip, which was hand-made apparently, though not by him. Also his wallet. And how he was intending to pay for the bus was a complete mystery to Arthur, especially as he wondered if not having a whip with him would work for him or against him.
Arthur was having the most fun he’d had in months, and then the cab pulled up at the worst possible moment, right as Merlin was in the middle of a hilarious story about a man who got off on being pelted with chickens, of all things. The hilarious part, of course, was that Merlin had had to steal the chickens from a farm, and he’d just started telling the bit where the farmer caught him-
Arthur stood up reluctantly, and Merlin was returning his coat before Arthur could tell him, “just keep it.”
And then Merlin was fishing around in an inside pocket of his vest, and pulling out a dark business card.
“You seem like a fun bloke,” he said, handing it to Arthur. “Call me up some time, we’ll have a beer or something.” He winked conspiratorially and added, “no strings attached, yeah?”
The cabbie honked impatiently and Arthur jerked his head up to stare at the car idling in the rain, and then back at Merlin, already starting to shiver once again.
“Look,” he said, “do you want a ride? You don’t even have money for the bus, for god’s sake.”
Merlin grinned. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ve got my ways,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.
“It’s no trouble, really.”
Merlin seemed a little puzzled, so Arthur added, “I’d be rather miffed to see your ugly frozen corpse on the news tomorrow, Merlin.”
Clearly Arthur was now living in bizarro-world, because somehow that turned out to have been the exact right thing to say and Merlin stood up with a laugh.
“Well, if you insist, your highness.”
Arthur held the door open for Merlin, only to feel instantly appalled at himself because Merlin wasn’t a lady or even a date for that matter. Merlin gave him an amused little grin as he slid into the back seat without comment. Arthur got in after, shutting the door firmly while Merlin leaned forward to give the cabby directions.
They continued to talk easily along the ride and when the cab pulled up to a large apartment building Merlin paused and looked at Arthur. He smiled crookedly, and tilted his head. “D’you wanna come up for a bit? For tea, or a drink?”
And Arthur would never ever go up to a stranger’s flat, but it was Friday night so he had no work the next day and there was something about Merlin that he just couldn’t quite put his finger on. So he only shrugged and said, “sure.”
He paid the cabby and followed Merlin inside the building and up a dimly-lit staircase. He handed over a credit card when Merlin needed to jimmy the lock to his flat because of course Merlin had forgotten the keys, and then followed him inside. Merlin turned on the lights and went into his bedroom to change into dry clothes, leaving Arthur alone to snoop around.
The flat was very… normal. Certainly not what Arthur had been expecting for the living space of a professional dominatrix. Although what, exactly, he had been expecting was still a little unclear. It was small but cozy, not really messy so much as lived in. There were a few unwashed mugs and plates in the sink, a bowl of quickly aging fruit on the counter. A battered old laptop stood open on the dining table, the screen black although it hummed loudly, as though angry at being on so late.
Arthur milled about, looking at the very normal books stacked haphazardly on bookcases, and very normal DVD’s lying on top of the ancient T.V. He’d expected something a bit more… extreme, but it was the usual collection of action movies and comedies along with a few unopened classics that you’d find in any home.
Merlin returned in a pair of plain jeans and a worn plaid shirt, walked barefoot to the kitchen to fill the kettle.
“So explain to me how what you do isn’t prostitution,” Arthur said, drifting over to the small kitchen. He watched Merlin’s hands as he rifled through cupboards for teabags and mugs, his long fingers ridiculously elegant as he performed the simple task of making tea. The rings were missing now, all but a plain thin band on his right pinky, leaving his hands looking oddly naked.
“Well,” Merlin said with an open smile, “I don’t make them cum. Technically.”
“Technically,” Arthur repeated with a snort. Merlin just shrugged and laughed.
“So… why do you do it?” Arthur asked.
“For the excellent outfits,” Merlin said, then laughed again. “Because I like it, Arthur!”
The tea kettle boiled and Merlin took it off the stove, setting it aside on the counter. He looked up then, and whatever he saw in Arthur’s face made him smile and take a step closer. “It’s not the only thing I like, though,” he said. His eyes were impossibly blue, intense as he looked at Arthur with his head cocked to the side. Despite his best efforts Arthur’s gaze drifted down to Merlin’s lips, plush and inviting, the corners turned up slightly as though smiling was their default expression.
Before Arthur knew what was happening Merlin had him backed up against the refrigerator and they were kissing madly, quirky fridge magnets clattering down to the floor around them as Merlin pushed Arthur’s suit jacket off his shoulders. It crumpled to the ground, forgotten along with the kettle waiting on the counter. Arthur pushed Merlin away after a few minutes, panting hard. He meant to say, “I should really go now,” except what he actually said was, “…bed?”
Merlin took him by the hand and pulled him into the bedroom, where they tumbled into the unmade sheets. Somewhere at the back of his mind Arthur was a little worried that at any second Merlin was about to pull out the whips and chains on him, and something about that must have showed because Merlin laughed and said, “would you relax?” And then he slid out of his shirt and pulled Arthur in on top of him, and Arthur found himself a little busy with other things.
It must have been magic, because there was no other explanation for how Merlin had Arthur out of his dress shirt in under a second, especially while managing to leave Arthur’s tie around his neck. Arthur meant to get it himself, except Merlin was guiding Arthur’s hands to the button of his jeans, and when Arthur pulled the button loose he found that Merlin wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
Things got a little frantic after that. There was Merlin pressing him back into the mattress, Merlin yanking off his trousers, Merlin kissing his neck, Merlin straddling him and rolling a condom over Arthur’s erection, Merlin easing down onto him, Merlin moaning, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. And if at one point the neighbors were banging angrily on the wall, Arthur was too far gone to care, or even notice.
Afterwards Arthur stared at the ceiling a little dumbstruck, trying to catch his breath while Merlin lay naked beside him, their shoulders just touching. Merlin had his forearm thrown over his eyes and a very pleased smile spread over his lips- And Arthur really needed to stop thinking about Merlin’s lips. He looked down and laughed, because he was still wearing his tie – his best tie, in fact, and incidentally a tie that he could probably never wear again without blushing. Merlin looked over and laughed with him.
“That’s a good look for you,” he said warmly, and then closed his eyes with a content sigh.
Arthur frowned a little, because he wasn’t really a one-night-stand sort of guy. And although this whole… thing didn’t really seem to fit the typical one-night-stand script… Arthur wondered if Merlin expected him to leave now. Except earlier Merlin had given Arthur his number, and offered him tea even though they hadn’t really gotten around to drinking it. And, well, that seemed a bit like a sort-of date then, in which case perhaps he could stay. But they were almost complete strangers, and strangers didn’t stay over after fucking, did they.
Arthur delayed thinking about it by grabbing the plaid shirt from where it was haphazardly wedged under his right shoulder.
“That’s my shirt,” Merlin complained as Arthur used it to wipe both of them off.
“Well I’m not using my shirt,” Arthur said. “I’ll be needing it… won’t I?” he asked in a very suave sort of way that was definitely not at all uncertain.
Merlin looked up at him in contemplation. “You should stay,” he said, and then added a bit sheepishly, “if you want.”
Of course Arthur wanted to stay, but he wasn’t about to be too eager about it. He managed to wait a bit, pretending to think about it, before saying, “…alright.”
Merlin still grinned up at him like he was being completely obvious. They rearranged themselves underneath the blankets, and although Arthur hated sleeping in new places, that night he drifted off easily.
Merlin’s alarm clock woke them at 8:00am and he cursed at it groggily as he turned it off. They had morning sex, and then shower sex. Afterwards they sprawled out on the couch eating toast and watching telly because that was all they had the energy for. And then it turned out that by some miracle they had the energy for couch sex as well, and…
And before Arthur knew it, he was calling in sick to work on Monday which he’d never done before even when he’d actually been sick.
“We should do this again, sometime,” Merlin said while buttoning up his suit jacket for him later that night. His suit had spent the better part of three days lying crumpled on the ground, so it was now horribly wrinkled and also slightly dusty. Normally Arthur would never go out in public looking like that, but at the moment he was too blissed out to care.
“Yeah,” Arthur said. “Maybe not so… vigorously, though. Some of us have real jobs.” He grinned so Merlin knew he was just teasing, and then took out one of his own business cards and handed it over. Merlin looked at it with a pleased smile and slid it into the pocket of his ridiculous purple dressing gown. Merlin took him by the lapels and pulled him in for a lingering kiss goodbye.
“Do you want to have dinner sometime this week?” Arthur asked once Merlin released him.
“When?” Merlin said with a dreamy smile, his eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction.
Arthur was all about traditional dating, and although he’d totally meant to say, “Friday night,” suddenly Friday seemed painfully far away and what actually came out of his mouth was, “…Wednesday?”
“Yeah,” Merlin said. “Call me?”
“Yeah,” Arthur said, his face breaking into a huge dopey smile without his permission.
It was practically midnight by the time he got home, and he groaned to see light pouring out through the crack under his door. Of course Morgana would be there to ambush him. It was his own damn fault for giving her a key in the first place, he thought as he reluctantly unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“Arthur! I was ready to file a missing person’s report!” Morgana said by way of greeting.
“Yes, hello to you too,” Arthur muttered.
Morgana stared at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Arthur,” she said slowly. “Is that… is that a hickey on your neck?”
Arthur blushed and resisted the urge to pull at his collar. “No,” he said defensively.
“Oh. My. God. Oh my god, Arthur! You called in sick so you could go off and shag someone? Oh my god! You did, didn’t you!”
Arthur stayed silent, but the blush only darkened, giving him away. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for a scolding, except Morgana enveloped him in a tight hug instead.
“Finally! I’m so proud of you!”
“Um… thanks?” Arthur said weakly, returning the hug.
She pulled away and was instantly stern, shaking a finger at his nose. “Well you’d better be at work tomorrow, because I am not going to the budget meeting by myself!”
“I’ll be there, don’t worry,” Arthur said.
“Good,” Morgana said, and made her way to the door. She paused at the last second though, turned around to ask, “who’s the lucky boy?”
“Uh. His name is Merlin, actually.”
Morgana cackled like the evil witch she was. “Oh my GOD, Arthur! You would find a Merlin wouldn’t you!”
“Shut up, it’s not his real name.”
“Oh it is,” Morgana said, waggling her eyebrows. “It is, it so is.” She was gone before Arthur could deny it any further, which was probably for the best all around. He was embarrassed to realize that he was already starting to miss Merlin, or whatever his real name was.