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"—so, my father never really talked to me much. If anything, Chase was the closest person to a parental figure I had."
Merlin paid attention, eyes locked onto him as Robert continued to speak. Though, they couldn't pick up anything he was saying, as their gaze was too focused on other things. Such as the way he held the cigarette in his hands, or the way his lips pursed as he blew out the smoke, which travelled with the wind.
"I was a little shit back then. Decided one day to release some pent-up anger on the mech suit when no one else was looking. If Chase hadn't swooped in, I would've been as good as dead. The chip in my ear is a reminder of that."
His hand traced his earlobe, a finger following along the edge as it swooped down at the area where he got shot. Merlin's eyes followed, wanting to do the same, but not with how inebriated they were. They took a swig from their glass, emptying its contents before setting it aside on the bench. A chill ran up their spine, as the wood creaked beneath them whilst music from the bar creeped out into the alleyway they were in. Earlier, one thing had led to another, which ended up with Robert sneaking outside under the pretence of needing fresh air. Of course, Merlin tagged along; if sitting outside in the cold, unforgiving weather meant getting an opportunity to talk to Robert alone, they'd take it.
"My dad rushed in, but...when he saw me, he just told me to get up. Didn’t care if I was crying or in pain."
Robert took a puff of the cigarette, letting the smoke trail out from his mouth. On the other hand, Merlin's mind decided to delve into rather dangerous territory.
(God, that shouldn't have been as hot as it did. Can he do that, but blow the smoke in my face? What about if he does that, but his hands unbutton my shirt and slide up my vest? Or better yet—)
They shook their head to rid those thoughts. The alcohol's really getting to them now. He noticed their peculiar behaviour, but didn't question it.
"You'd think with how much he puts his life on the line, he'd at least make the most of his free time with his son. Apparently not."
The atmosphere became tense, and it took a bit too long for Merlin to read the social cues and decide to say something in response.
"Yeah...that sucks. I'm sorry to hear that." they replied.
(Good job, dumbass.)
He turns to look at them, looking rather unimpressed.
"Oh, wow. I spill out my life story to you, and that's all you have to say?"
They gulped nervously, fiddling with their gloves. Looking down at the floor, as if the murky puddles and dirt were the most interesting things ever now.
"No, no... really, I'm sorry to hear that your childhood was rough. Your father shouldn't have neglected you like that."
“I was just teasing you, ‘Lin. I wasn't expecting you to add on to your answer. But thanks, I guess."
He takes another drag, as the wind pushes the smoke away. Glancing over, he notices their eyes have locked back onto him.
(Cute.) He thinks, chuckling to himself.
"...Looks like someone's staring at me a lot tonight. What, are you drunk already?"
They scoff, rolling their eyes.
"I burnt a hole through my wallet drinking a whole bottle's worth of whiskey. Of course I'm fucking drunk."
"Alright, you pissy dustball. I was just wondering."
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Also, can I have my lighter back?"
"Mmm, no. It's fun to fidget with."
"...Can't argue with that, I guess."
They looked away, leaning back on their arms and sighing. A comfortable silence follows, as the noise from the city around them blurs into a twisted melody. The blaring music from the bar can still be heard from outside, with the two of them seated on the table of some dirty bench in the alleyway.
But alas, it doesn't last long. Because of course, alcohol tends to blur logical thinking. Merlin looks at Robert and opens their mouth, blurting something they'll probably regret in the morning.
"Can you— Can you put that cigarette out on me?"
Robert’s eyes widened in surprise, as he turned his head to face them. Merlin immediately clasps a hand over their own mouth, shuffling away from him.
"Sorry. Just forget I asked."
He just stares at them, before bursting into laughter. Reaching out, he gently pulls away their hand. There’s a small pause before he takes hold of their chin— a wordless ask for consent before they nod, and he forces them to look at him.
"Getting bold, are we?"
He couldn't see it due to the crappy lighting in the alleyway, but he did feel how their face burned in embarrassment, all the way down to their neck. His thumb traced their skin, saving the mental image of how their breath hitched ever so slightly for later.
"I'm not, usually,” they cough. “Blame it on the alcohol."
"Drunk words are sober thoughts, Merlin."
Taking one last smoke, he soaks in the nicotine and adrenaline, letting his guts guide his next words.
"...Alright. Where do you want it?"
He lets go of their chin, waving the end of the cigarette around as the light slowly fizzles out of it. With a shiver and a nervous sigh, Merlin shrugs off their shirt, pulling down a vest strap to expose their collarbone. They point to a specific area, which happens to be right next to a mole. Robert's pleasantly surprised by how compliant they are, even if they were the one to ask if he could do such a thing.
"Right here, if you don't mind." they muttered. "Ah shit, this is gonna hurt, isn't it?"
"Of course it's gonna hurt, idiot. You really didn't think this through, did you?" he laughs, shuffling closer to them, to the point his thigh was touching theirs, side-by-side.
"It's whatever. Uh, distract me if you do it? I'm curious, but I’d rather not be aware of it happening, you know?"
He raises an eyebrow.
"What, is this your way of asking me to make out with you?"
“Huh? Well, I—”
They spluttered a gibberish-filled reply, but paused to give themselves a moment to translate their thoughts to English.
"I-I guess? Not to the point we're fucking on this dirty bench, but...a kiss would be nice."
They mumbled, looking down to their feet in embarrassment. His eyes softened, stuffing the lighter in his pocket and using his now free hand to cup their cheek.
"Just this once. I'd rather kiss you if you were sober. So you'd remember it."
“Really? Wait, what— mmph!”
Closing the gap, he kisses them, as he puts out the end of the cigarette on them at the same time. They're caught off guard, bracing a hand on his shoulder as they squirm and shudder from the stinging burn, but also from the soft kiss. The mix of faint whiskey and saliva felt intoxicating, as they choked out a small whine, akin to a moan. He nipped at their bottom lip when he heard it, as if to say to keep quiet. As soon as the cigarette fizzled out on their skin, Robert agonisingly pulled away, leaving a thin thread of saliva behind as a result of his parting.
"...holy shit. That...We just— whuh?"
Merlin's fingertips traced over their own lips, still processing the electric feeling of his lips on theirs. They felt a slight bit of blood pool on the lower half, staining their fingers red.
"Dude, we just...kissed?"
"Please do not call me dude, my lips were literally on yours not even ten seconds ago."
Robert sighs, shaking his head with a dry laugh. Throwing the cigarette butt into a tray, he lifts his hand to rest on Merlin's shoulder, tracing the burn with his thumb. He wipes away any residue ash, as they wince in pain.
"Ow, ow,” they whimpered, a tear threatening to spill out. “That's gonna leave a mark."
"Of course it will, dumbass. That's how burns work." he chuckles, sobering up ever so slightly. Not enough to have any regrets just yet.
"...Will you kiss it better for me?"
"Pfft. What are you, 12?"
"No, I'm 29. Do I have to beg, or something?" they mumbled, giving him the saddest puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. Or, well, kitty cat eyes?
"As much as I'd like to see that, I think it's time we get home." he smiles, sliding off the bench.
"Man, so no kiss?"
"Jesus, you're insufferable."
"I know."
He kisses the burn anyways, pulling them by their shirt, which forces them to stand up from the bench. They almost trip over their own feet with how sudden it was. A dopey grin makes its way onto their face, and it takes an immeasurable amount of restraint for Robert to not tear them apart in the alleyway.
"So a bit of begging does work." Merlin smiles, looking like they hit the jackpot.
"Sure, it does. Only because it's you." Robert mumbles, swinging their arm over his shoulder. "Come on, 'Lin. Let's get home."
"Mhm..."
The walk back to Robert's apartment was a long one, made only possible with how many times the two of them stumbled and tripped over each other. At one point, Robert almost sends Merlin tumbling straight into a bush, which makes for a quick laugh under the moonlight. Regardless, the two of them made it up the stairs to a familiar door in one piece.
Checking his pockets, Robert realises he didn't take his keys before leaving earlier. Thankfully, Merlin had a copy of the keys on their person. Borrowing them, he unlocks the door, dragging their limp body in and closing said door behind him. They’re both kicking off their shoes with mindless chatter, when Merlin somehow trips over their own ankle with one step, falling in Robert's direction.
Cornering him in the hallway of their shared humble abode was, most certainly, not part of the plan, if there even was one. The silence was deafening. Dim lighting and shared breaths didn't do anything but charge the atmosphere with a horrid tension — one waiting to break at any moment, as soon as either of them made a move.
Neither of them do. Merlin sobers up enough to stop it, as they push themselves off the wall, muttering a barely comprehensible apology when they set their shoes by the door. Admittedly, Robert's a bit disappointed. A part of him was hoping they'd finally let go, with how he caught them staring at his lips.
They turn to look at him. To find the unspoken permission to take his hand, wanting to lead him in as if it was a routine. He lets them, gently entangling his fingers in theirs. Expecting to be guided to the beanbag that's currently occupied by Beef, until they take a detour to the bedroom.
"—You know, I'm fine sleeping on the beanbag. Or the floor." he says, his words wavering. As if he's afraid to break the silence.
"I know.” they replied, gnawing at their lip. The metallic taste of their own blood grounds them, reminding them that they've crossed a line. “Just…I'll take the beanbag tonight.”
"Merlin, we've slept together in the same bed plenty of times. Surely, one more time is alright?"
"Please don't word it like that, Robert. You know what I mean."
They go behind him, pushing him towards the bed until he sits on the mattress.
"Believe me when I say this is for the better. Please." Merlin sighs, their pupils shining a wistful glint in them.
He makes eye contact, and whispers a small alright. But as they turn around, his hand taps theirs, catching their attention.
"—One more kiss before you go?" Robert asks. A hopeful call for them to stay, for just a bit longer.
They're reluctant, but with how clouded their mind still is, they indulge.
"Yeah. One more."
Merlin leans towards him, their left hand resting dangerously close to Robert's thigh. The other hand hesitantly reaches out to his neck, playing with the small tufts of hair on his nape. There's a moment of hesitancy, but it disappears just as quickly when he leans in, and his lips meet theirs.
It's softer this time, more delicate, as if he's savouring the taste of them on his tongue, rather than consuming them whole. It's sweet, but tainted with the blood from their lower lip. Combined with the hazy thoughts and impulsive actions thanks to the earlier alcohol, the kiss lasted a lot longer than necessary. Too long, some may say. Recognising this, Merlin suddenly pulls away, immediately creating distance.
"—I'm sorry. I can’t." they mumbled with regret, covering their mouth with their hand.
"It's okay. See you in the morning?" he said, though there's an obvious change of tone in his hoarse voice.
"Yeah. Goodnight, sunflower."
With that, they had left the bedroom, leaving him to find his own warmth in the bedsheets alone. He lies down and rolls over, initially staying on his side of the bed. But tonight, he gravitated towards their side, enveloping himself with the faint scent of them. It was weird, sure, but he wasn't in the best state of mind.
For once, he dreaded forgetting this. Forgetting about how they tasted, and the look on their face when he kissed them for the first time. However, now they've just left him here, he feels conflicted more than anything. It's strange, since he's aware that he's spent fifteen years just like this. Hoping sleep will take him, and not use his traumas against him.
It does, eventually. The room, as quiet as it was, lulled him to sleep with the lullaby of the wind. Whispering a hope that he'll rest well, and not wake up with a raging headache in the morning.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Merlin stumbled over to the beanbag, sitting on the floor. They looked at Beef and regretted it, with how the chihuahua reminded them of Robert. The guilt continued to pile up on them, as a hand traced the burn on their collarbone. If they had just kept their mouth shut, they wouldn't be feeling like this; feeling like their heart is going to burst out of their ribcage, as flashes of a freckled smile and auburn hair pierced their mind.
They're so gone — and they can feel it. They know that they can't keep dancing on this line, pushing for that intimacy, but pulling away when it really counts. It’s purely self-sabotage at this point, draped in the excuse that they can’t date the son of the man who changed their life for the worse. Would their mother be rolling in her grave, knowing that her only child turned out to be this much of a fuck-up, let alone not being her daughter anymore?
It scares Merlin — to know how this silly crush of theirs has truly thrown them into the deep end. To know that their body and heart yearns for him, but their mind still won't commit, no matter how much convincing they do to themselves. To know that there's an actual chance Robert genuinely likes them back.
Leaning back and sinking into the beanbag, they don’t bother to pull a blanket over themselves. They turn to look at the night sky, in a streak of ironic hope that maybe the stars will tell them what to do. They never were one to believe in astrology much. And yet, their eyes catch a glimpse of a shooting star.
Before their body could shut down for the night and rest, one final wish echoed in their mind.
(Please, let me forget this ever happened.)
_________________________________
Morning came, followed by an immense amount of vomit due to last night’s horrendous decisions. Robert wakes up to the sound of Merlin throwing up, as he groggily makes his way over to the bathroom. There, he sees Merlin hunched over on the toilet, looking like their life's being sucked out of them in real time. He holds their hair back when he senses the next round of purging from the way their face pales.
After what felt like 30 minutes of puking, Merlin feels well enough to tear themselves away from the poor toilet. Flushing their barf, they watch it swirl away into the sewers, never to be seen again with a spluttered curse.
"...thanks." they grumbled raspily, holding back a cough and clutching their head with a groan.
"No problem," Robert yawns. He goes off to make some morning coffee, mentally noting to himself to buy painkillers for them later.
Merlin opts to stay in the bathroom for a bit. They run a hand through their hair, until their eyes catch something purplish-red in the mirror. Shedding off their shirt and lowering the vest strap, they see it; an angry burn sat on their skin, having scorched its way through several layers of man-made protection. The shape of it was in a near perfect circle, as if mimicking the mole next to it.
"Ah, shit. When did this happen?" they sighed, shaking their head. Walking out into the living room, they look around for Robert. Seeing him seated on the beanbag, they go over to tap him on the shoulder.
"Hey. Do you remember this? Or, well... anything that might've caused this." Merlin asks, gesturing to their sudden discovery.
Robert almost spits out his coffee at the sight. Sure, the burn was quite the concern, but his eyes were more focused on how beautifully dishevelled they looked, towering over him with their eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and annoyance. It doesn't help to curb the kind of thoughts he was having last night.
"Uh...no. How in the hell did you get that, anyways?" he asks, pretending to act nonchalant. Thankfully, his performance sells.
"No idea. I can't remember anything, other than drinking whiskey and sitting in a dirty alleyway with someone."
"With someone, you say? Can't even remember who you were sitting with, magnet?"
"What, you? Look man, I have no idea. All I know is that I certainly didn't have...this before getting drunk."
They point at the burn again, an aching reminder of the night before. He chuckles, recalling just now that he still has their lighter.
"Well, maybe it's a sign to not burn a hole through your wallet for shitty whisky again." he chuckles. "By the way, here's your lighter back."
Oh, thanks—"
They extend their hand out for him to set it on their palm. Though, they can't tell if he's being a dick or if he's teasing them, with how his fingertips grace their skin for a second too long.
"—hold on. Why do you have this? Did I drop it or something?"
"Mhm. Thought I'd pick it up, since it means a lot to you."
He hums into his mug, taking a sip of coffee. They stare at him for a solid minute, sensing that something feels off. Robert's acting weird, but Merlin can't pinpoint why.
“Maybe it's the hangover just getting to me,” they think. Shrugging it off, they said their thanks and went to get changed. Leaving the night behind, in favour of a new day. There’s no point in dwelling in the past, especially if they don’t remember it.
When they leave, Robert sighs into his mug, a small grimace shared only with the reflection of his coffee. He remembers it all — from burning that cigarette into them, to the kisses they shared. Not one, nor two, but three. Seeing how confused they looked now, he didn't have the courage to share any piece of that information to them. He knew they'd flip their lid at how they got the burn; that they'd be horribly annoyed at themselves for even asking him to do such a thing.
What’s worse, however, is how he picked up on their subtleties. Catching them staring at him with that warm look in their eyes, feeling their skin burn when they got flustered, and hearing the way their breath skipped as he held their chin. A silent yearning that almost consumed him whole, with how they acted that night. He could have shaken it off as it being the alcohol, if it wasn’t with how they kissed him with such reverence and care. Everything made his heart stutter in an uncomfortable, yet comforting beat. The kind of feeling that he was never familiar with, unless it was the adrenaline from his hero work.
“It's too much to process for today,” he tells himself. Shoving those memories and thoughts down, he keeps everything under lock and key as a night that he only remembers. It’s probably for the better, even if he’ll keep himself swimming in the deluded joy that he has a chance, an actual chance, for him and Merlin to be something more. Not just roommates who sometimes do suspiciously gay things together, and get mistaken for being a couple at least five times a week.
He’s just hoping that they'll not leave before he gets the courage to say anything.