Work Text:
Prompt: Reading Together
Arthur looked at the book in his hands and read it for the seventh time. Then again. And once more for good measure. He didn’t quite believe what he was reading but it filled his heart with warmth and he couldn’t hold back the smile on his face.
He hadn’t meant to read it, not initially. All Arthur had been doing was giving his flat a quick tidy up, hoovering and dusting all around when the notebook had caught his eye. The dark red leather cover with golden accents sat upon the coffee table and it intrigued Arthur, made him curious. He’d never seen the notebook before so figured it was his flatmate, Merlin’s and that filled him with more curiosity. But being the good friend he was, Arthur had simply picked it up in order to return it to Merlin’s bedroom.
It was only when a slip of paper fell to the floor that Arthur began his snooping. He grabbed the small sheet and glanced over the words, eyes widening as he read.
A smile as wondrous as the stars
A laugh that flows, music to my ears
Eyes that shine like the sea under the sun
A living work of art, beauty before my eyes
Poetry.
In Merlin’s handwriting.
Merlin had been writing poetry.
Arthur read the piece a couple more times and then his interest was piqued, he wanted to know what other words lay between the pages of the red-leather book. He had no authority on whether it was good poetry or not but...it made him feel something. Deep down.
He knew it was wrong as he settled back into the sofa and opened it up. He knew that snooping would annoy Merlin to no end but he was at work right now, he wouldn’t be home for a few hours and so Arthur reasoned that he had time. He could hide his tracks and then pretend this had never happened.
He flicked through the pages, dozens of rough scribbles, words coming together, a poem beginning to form here and there. There were a few lines of finished prose, a couple of paragraphs that looked neater than the others. The longer ones were written in a tidier handwriting, more care had been taken forming the letters on the page and Arthur felt a multitude of emotions take over him.
If poetry was an expression of one’s emotions then it was obvious what Merlin was feeling. He was in love. Or at least, he really, really liked someone. And Arthur’s gut twisted. To begin with, he was happy for Merlin, happy that his closest friend in the world had found someone who made him feel this way. But on the other hand, the knowledge stung Arthur like a thorn. Someone else had captured Merlin’s heart and here he was…reading all about it, close to tears.
Arthur wanted to close the book, to push it away and never think about it ever again. But as he flicked one final page, he froze. This was the page he read seven times. Then again. And once more for good measure.
It was a slightly shorter poem, just a couple of verses, but it stood out. The words seemed to leap from the page and dance before Arthur’s eyes. It was…beautiful. It felt like it came straight from the heart.
And at the top of the page, the title stood large and proud.
The Heart of a Pendragon
It couldn’t be? It couldn’t possibly be about him? Arthur reread it for the tenth time and smiled, a wide grin that almost took over his entire face. Could it be that all the poems, all the expressions of emotion and love, were about him all along? Could it be that Merlin felt the same way that Arthur did?
Arthur let his head drop back on the sofa and let out a long breath, the book still clutched in his hands. There were so many thoughts slipping through his mind that he didn’t hear the door opening, he didn’t hear the cheery voice calling out a greeting. He didn’t hear anything until Merlin was in the room, eyes wide, staring at the sight before him.
“Shit.” Merlin dropped his bag and his mouth fell open. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Arthur’s head snapped up and he closed the book swiftly, fully aware that his cheeks were now a blazing red. He’d been caught in the act, betraying Merlin’s trust by reading his personal property.
“Merlin, I… Fuck, I was tidying and I found this and I-”
“Tell me you didn’t read it, please for the love of all that is holy, tell me you didn’t read it?”
Arthur finally stood up, looking a little sheepish. He held out the book and Merlin stormed across the room, snatched it from his hands and then headed straight for his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Fuck.” Arthur breathed out, rubbing a hand over his face. How could he make this up to his flat mate? He stood in the silence of the living room for a few moments before a thought occurred to him.
Arthur ran to his room, frantically searched for a notebook and a pen and then sat cross legged on his bed. He looked down at the blank sheet before him and took a deep breath. He had to find the words, show Merlin that he was sorry. Show Merlin how he felt.
He started writing eight times, overthinking each phrase, trying to get the words to flow just as Merlin had. But he wasn’t a poet, he had never been any good at creative writing in school. So Arthur sat back and decided to just write from his heart, a letter of sorts, expressing everything he wished to say.
An hour later and he was done. Arthur looked over his words, the messiness of his handwriting, the scribbling out here and there, the page full of his innermost thoughts. It was all there, on white paper and written in a crappy blue biro.
Arthur tore the page from his notebook and took the few steps between his room and Merlin’s. He knocked, knuckles gently tapping against the wood, but there was no answer.
“Merlin?” Arthur tried, listening for any signs that Merlin was in there. “I’m sorry I read your book, I know I fucked up.. But… Well… Just read this? Please?” Arthur slipped his paper under the door and stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it, I guess.”
Arthur stepped back from the door, his heart hammering in his chest. His heart laid out for Merlin on the paper under the door. All he could do now was wait.
-
Some time passed, Arthur wasn’t sure how long, but then he heard the click of Merlin’s door, the soft padding of his feet across the hallway.
“Arthur?”
“In here..” Arthur’s voice was small, worried. The blonde was sitting on the edge of the sofa, elbows leaning on his knees with his hands clasped in between.
He couldn’t read the look on Merlin’s face as the man sat next to him, a sheet of paper, Arthur’s letter, clutched in his hand.
“Do you really mean all this?” Merlin asked, eyes fixed to the floor.
Arthur nodded, not trusting his mouth to make any sound, he was too nervous. His heart seemed to hammer even harder than it had before as he waited for Merlin to speak again.
“Will you…read it to me?”
When Arthur looked up, he was greeted by Merlin’s soft smile and wide blue eyes gazing back at him.
“Y-yeah, okay.” Arthur replied, taking the paper back from his friend. Merlin scooted closer on the sofa till they were sitting beside each other, their legs touching from knee to hip.
Arthur could see Merlin’s eyes reading along the paper as he began to speak.
“Merlin, firstly, I want to say I’m sorry. I took your book and read it without permission. That was wrong of me.” Arthur took a breath, willing his shaking hands to still. “I hope you can forgive me. But…”
The blonde looked up, caught Merlin’s gaze again and searched for any emotion. Merlin simply nodded for Arthur to continue.
“But the things I read, the words you wrote, they were beautiful. I had no idea the talent you had as a writer and the way you’re able to weave words together into something as wonderful as that. When I first opened your book, I was simply stunned. How could your messy handwriting produce such beautiful writing? But then I remembered it’s you, and it made sense.”
Arthur felt himself welling up, nowhere near prepared enough for reading this aloud. He assumed that the letter was easier, that Merlin would read it and that would be that. But Merlin was smiling, nodding again for Arthur to carry on.
“I thought at first that these were just random writings, that you were simply writing as a way to relax. Like when I play football. Olay, that’s a bad comparison but you know what I mean.”
Merlin chuckled softly.
“But as I carried on reading, it was obvious that you were writing about someone . That these were your thoughts in ink, realised on the paper. I felt my insides crumble. I was happy, of course I was, happy to know that you had found someone who made you feel this way but…”
Arthur paused again. God, this was harder than he thought it would be. He stole one more glance sideways and Merlin was still there, still smiling, still reading along. Then, the younger man laid his head on Arthur’s shoulder, such a small gesture but meaning the world to Arthur in that moment. With a small push of confidence, Arthur read the final few paragraphs.
“But I wished it were me. I wanted so badly for it to be me that you were writing about. Me that you were having these feelings about. The way you described your longing and wanting, the way you explained just how much this person meant to you. When you started describing them as beautiful and a work of art…fuck, Merlin. I almost broke. Then I turned to the final page, the one called The Heart of a Pendragon. The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks.”
Another beat as Arthur took a breath.
“Well, at first I thought I was dreaming or hallucinating or something. But I read it over and over and over and well.. I realised. Your poems, they were all about me. All these words were about me. And Merlin, bloody hell, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I never noticed that you were feeling this way but I need to tell you now, I need you to know, Merlin…”
A final pause.
“Your poem says that you wished you had the heart of a Pendragon and you do. You do have my heart, it’s always been yours and always will be. I need you to know that, I need you to understand how much my heart is truly yours.”
Arthur gave Merlin a moment, gave it time for the words to sink in. He looked down as best he could and saw Merlin’s eyes moving over the paper, reading the words over and over, just as Arthur had read the poems before.
Sitting here, reading together, with Merlin’s head on his shoulder, Arthur felt complete.
“To hold the heart of a Pendragon, to keep it safe in mine…” Merlin murmured, uttering a few lines of his poem.
Arthur shifted in his seat and turned to face Merlin. “It’s yours, Merlin. My heart…belongs to you.”
Merlin’s face broke out into a gigantic grin, small tears collecting at the corner of his eyes. His cheeks were flushing a gentle red and Arthur cupped them in his hands. He took a deep breath, collecting up every ounce of courage he could find.
“I love you.” Arthur breathed out, eyes fixed on Merlin.
Merlin’s smile grew slightly before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Arthur’s, pushing the blonde back slightly whilst gripping the front of his shirt in his fists. Arthur kissed back with everything he had, Merlin’s poems still floating through his mind.
When they finally pulled apart, Arthur could feel that his own cheeks had joined Merlin’s in becoming flushed, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the man before him, the man he loved and who was looking at him with a slightly goofy expression.
“I love you too, so much…”
Arthur smiled back and bit his lip. “The one time I decide to tidy the flat and this happens…fuck, I should’ve done it sooner.”
Merlin rolled his eyes, his usual playful self returning quickly. From behind him, he grabbed the red leather notebook and handed it to Arthur. “Read with me again?”
Arthur took the offering and nodded, eager to cast his eyes over Merlin’s words once more. He opened the first page and Merlin settled back into his shoulder, fitting in like the space was made for him. Arthur began to read aloud, Merlin’s eyes following the page over his shoulder.
“The sunlight shines, the stars glisten, the moon beams down… But none are as beautiful as when he smiles at me.”
