fic: Where the Hurt Is [part one]

Title: Where the Hurt Is
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: R
Word Count: 12,373
Summary: For this Kink Me! Merlin prompt: They were childhood/teenage sweethearts but Arthur's family moved away (because Uther detested Merlin but Arthur doesn't know this) and they promise to write. After Uther's death Arthur finds all the letters from Merlin he never received. All the time he thought Merlin had forgotten him. Arthur seeks him out. Title comes from the Say Anything song.
Author's Note: Many thanks to my britpick and loyal cheerleaders who provided valuable feedback and were there to share my excitement over my first Merlin fic.
ETA: Now with gorgeous art, requested by chaosmaka and provided by tindu!
AND can be read here in Chinese, translated by irismomo!
Or here in one piece on Dreamwidth.



“How do you get married?” a five-year-old Arthur asks, looking across the dinner table at his father. Uther raises an eyebrow, not particularly in the mood to indulge his son’s endless curiosities. He’s never had patience for young children and their questions.

“You have to have someone to marry first,” he states, proving that he doesn’t know a damn thing about kids when he hopes it will just end there.

“I have someone to marry,” Arthur pipes up immediately. Morgana’s expression is amused but fond.

“Who would want to marry you?” she teases, and he pouts at her and whines her name in that little brother way.

“Morgana, I’m serious! I’m in love and I want to get married.”

Uther can’t help but chuckle at that. “Arthur, you’re too young to be in love. Stop being silly and eat your dinner.”

Morgana ignores him, too amused by Arthur’s frustration. “What’s her name?”

“Ew, it’s not a girl.” The boy promptly sticks out his tongue to show his distaste. “His name is Merlin, and he’s new to my class. I love him and we’re going to get married and get a dog. A big dog. Merlin wanted a little dog, but I said-”

“Arthur, you can’t marry another boy,” Uther cuts him off, knowing it might be another five minutes before he stops talking if he allows the story to continue. “You’re a boy, you marry a girl, and when you’re much older.”

Arthur frowns, a look of true disappointment clouding his features. “But… I want to marry Merlin.”

*

“Did you make any new friends at school today?” Hunith asks hopefully, though she tries not to expect too much. It was her son’s first day at a new school, and she knows how shy he can be.

“Yep,” Merlin answers simply, mostly focused on his after-school snack. Hunith blinks, watching him expectantly.

“Oh?” she prompts when he doesn’t decide to elaborate. “What’s their name?”

“Arthur,” the boy replies, his mouth full. “He’s my best friend now. He asked me to marry him, and gave me a biscuit.”

Hunith feels her eyebrows raise instinctively. “Did you say yes?” she wonders, amused as Merlin looks up at her with wide, innocent blue eyes and says,

“Well, yeah. It was a really good biscuit.”

*

The boys are seven when ten-year-old twins, Cedric and Cornelius, take an interest in Merlin. Suddenly it’s like they’re everywhere he goes, taunting him about how skinny he is and how big his ears are- except when Arthur is around. Arthur’s got genetics on his side, making him tall and well-built for his age, and his avid interest in football is an aid to the muscle department. Even being three years younger he could do a great deal of damage to the twins in a fight, and they know to stay away when he’s there.

But he’s not always there, and they’re getting better and better at closing in on Merlin when that’s the case. They push him around and knock him over, giving him a scraped knee that he later has to lie to Arthur and then to his parents about. They tease him so much one day that he goes into the boys’ bathroom afterwards and cries in a stall for fifteen minutes. He becomes anxious and moody and Arthur can’t figure out what’s wrong, but he’s terribly worried.

Then one day he catches them when they have Merlin cornered up against a fence. Arthur doesn’t understand what’s going on at first- the thought of Merlin being bullied doesn’t cross his mind, because the idea that anyone would want to bully sweet, perfect Merlin is just absurd- but then he sees Cornelius shove him and the anger hits him like a hurricane. He marches over, and he’s never punched anyone before, but when he reflects back on it later, he thinks he did a pretty good job. It gets them to run off, by any means, and then Arthur’s pulling Merlin close, and hugging him close, and apologizing for ever letting anything like that happen to him, because now he knows what’s been bothering the boy, and he’s filled with guilt for not stopping it sooner. Merlin holds onto him just as tightly, assuring Arthur that he doesn’t blame him, and that he’s just grateful that they’ll leave him alone now.

They stand like until Merlin stops trembling, but still don’t let go. There’s an unexplainable comfort that they’re only able to find in each other, and they want to hang on just a little bit longer.

*

Merlin’s father passes away when he and Arthur are eleven. They’re still as inseparable as they have been since the day they met, despite Uther using most of his parental effort (not that that’s a lot) trying to push Arthur towards more rough and athletic friends with wealthier families, so naturally Arthur is right next to Merlin throughout the boy’s grieving, holding his hand and often crying right along with him. The man had been much like a father to him too, after all. Hunith catches them passed out in each other’s arms more than once, managing a small smile through her tears.

It’s never awkward when they wake up like this, though Merlin suspects it probably should be. He doesn’t know if friends are supposed to be as clingy and affectionate as he and Arthur are. Sure, they’re best mates, but it always feels like something more than that. Especially when Arthur fixes him with a small, sleepy smile, and Merlin’s heart does flip flops, and he thinks he’d be quite content if they stayed wrapped up in each other forever.

*

It soon gets worse than just the loss of Merlin’s father, as it also means a loss of income, and therefore no chance that they’ll be able to continue affording to send Merlin to public school. It takes a while for it to sink in that this means the boys will be sent to different schools, and that night they cry over more than the loss of a loved one.

Arthur wonders later if it isn’t for the best that Merlin is at a different school. He sees multiple cases of best friends fighting because someone isn’t cool enough and the judgment of their peers is so pressing that it drives them apart. The idea of anything similar happening to him and Merlin makes him sick to his stomach, and he is glad that what they have can’t be touched.

*

It isn’t as if they’ve never had urges before. They’ve pressed against each other in the dark while sleeping over at each other’s houses, both clad in thin pajamas and craving the warmth and solid feel of the other. But as they near their teen years, they’re hyperaware of sex and that it’s all anyone ever talks about and most of all they can ever think about. They learn how to touch themselves in just the way they want to be touched, which is satisfying for a while, but eventually starts to feel lacking.

Neither of them have much experience with kissing. They shared a few pecks when they were five and planning the wedding that Arthur insisted they have to rebel against the oppressive (Morgana had taught him that word) rule of his father. Planning the locations of their future summer homes could only amuse them for so long, however, before Merlin suggested they pretend they were dinosaurs, and then wedding bells were not nearly as important to Arthur as getting to be the T-Rex (which was cool with Merlin, who wanted to be a raptor anyway).

Now they’re both eager to find a pair of lips that fit theirs, and when Arthur suggests one afternoon that they experiment with it together, there is no hesitation before Merlin agrees. Who better to try kissing with than his best friend, the person who means more to him than anyone else?

They’re both at Merlin’s, as Arthur spends a few hours there after school almost every day. His father works late, so as long as he doesn’t get hurt or let it slip where he’s been, his nanny can drop him off so that he can have time with the best friend his father doesn’t quite approve of and she can do whatever the hell she wants and will still end up paid for the hours. It’s a pretty sweet deal for the both of them. Especially now for Arthur, who locks Merlin’s door behind them and quickly joins his friend on the bed. They stare at each other for a moment, slowly leaning in and closing their eyes when their lips touch. Arthur shuffles closer and moves his lips against Merlin’s, whose hands come up to gently cup his face. Merlin’s tongue tentatively flicks out to meet his, just barely, and he tastes so nice, and Arthur decides that this kissing thing is quite spectacular and should definitely be repeated on a regular basis.

*

By the time they hit fifteen, they’re fully knowledgeable about and comfortable with each other’s bodies. They share kisses often, have nakedly explored one another on more than one occasion, and they jerk each other off on their weekly sleepover nights (and sometimes during the afternoons, if they’ve been feeling particularly needy or Merlin’s mum goes out).

They’re spooned together on Merlin’s bed on one such night, Merlin holding onto the arm that’s draped over him. They’re both enjoying the warmth and the closeness and the fuzzy post-orgasm feel, and Merlin just barely works up the nerve to breathe out, “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” Arthur responds tiredly, snuggling just a bit closer. Merlin can’t help but smile, playing with the blonde’s fingers.

“Are we… y’know… like, boyfriends?” he asks timidly, feeling relieved when the question doesn’t cause Arthur to tense up.

“’Course we are, where’ve you been?” Arthur replies easily, and Merlin chuckles, because it’s very Arthur to have decided such a thing and not thought to mention it. “Why? Do you not want to be boyfriends?”

“No, no, I do,” Merlin assures quickly, and the arm around him tightens.

“Good,” Arthur murmurs against his ear. “’Cause I’d have to fight for you if you didn’t.”

Merlin can’t fight the grin off his face. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been so happy.

*

Uther Pendragon is most definitely not happy. Sure, he never really approved of Merlin- the boy was scrawny and clumsy and sometimes wore an expression that made him look a bit dumb, not to mention his ridiculous ears, surely Arthur could find more genetically well off friends- but the boy, and Arthur’s seeming fascination with him, had only been a minor issue. They were children, and children do silly things that they then later grow out of. But as Arthur grows and Merlin stays right where he is in Arthur’s life, Uther begins to worry. He feels hopeful when the odd boy’s father passes (and hardly spares a second to think of how awful that sounds) because now Arthur won’t see him at school every day and since he’s just a child still, he’ll surely, surely look for more convenient friends.

But he doesn’t. He still wants to have a sleepover with Merlin every weekend, the interest never waning. Uther suspects foul play, wonders if Arthur is somehow still getting to see Merlin during the week- that nanny of his never seemed all that trustworthy- but then his work draws him back in and he thinks, well, Arthur’s still a child, he can’t stay infatuated forever.

But he does. Even when Uther makes the ridiculous declaration that Merlin can’t stay over on the weekends anymore, which doesn’t end up making a difference because apparently Merlin’s mother is some sort of saint who doesn’t mind having Arthur impose on her every single weekend (and more, if the nanny is in fact assisting their friendship) for years.

And then, for Arthur’s fifteenth birthday, the only person he wants to have over is Merlin. Uther doesn’t have the heart to deny his wish on his birthday, one of the few days of the year he takes off from work, and the more he watches them, the more he realizes that Merlin is a major threat. The way Arthur always stands a little too close, his touch lingering a little too long, sends a spike of fear through Uther. Then he sees the way they look at each other, and fuck that, he will not stand to watch some silly little boy turn his only son gay. He’s worked too bloody hard to make his life be everything he could ever want, and then in comes Merlin, corrupting Arthur’s chance at a respectable life and Uther’s chance of passing on the Pendragon name. Ruining all he had worked for, it seems, and the hatred for this boy burns in his chest.

Arthur only seems more distracted and dreamy-eyed in the following months, and summer starts and Morgana goes off to university and Uther gets an idea. His company is opening a new branch in America that would benefit from his overseeing presence. Most of Morgana’s things are packed up anyway, so it wouldn’t be too hard to pack up everything else. They could just move, and Merlin wouldn’t have a chance. They’d be on completely different continents, a dozen states and an ocean between them, with an eight hour time difference and a specifically selected home phone plan that won’t include international calls.

It’s perfect, he thinks, and puts his plan into place almost immediately.

*

It’s not fair, and Arthur isn’t hesitant to scream this at his father. It’s not fair, and Uther must be joking, and how can he sabotage his life this way? The entire time, the thing repeating in his mind is Merlin, Merlin, oh god, Merlin. How is he going to survive without seeing Merlin? Without even talking to him? How is he possibly going to be able to say goodbye to Merlin? His father doesn’t understand what he’s doing.

He pleads, and tries to explain. “Let me stay. Hunith will let me live with them until I go to university. Please, I love Merlin, you can’t just make it so I’ll never see him.” It’s not how he planned to come out to his father, but he’s desperate.

“You don’t know what love is,” Uther growls, making it clear how much he doesn’t want to hear any more as he turns away. “There are boxes in the hallway. Start packing tonight.”

Arthur watches him leave, angry and despairing tears blurring his vision. Uther shuts the door between them, and Arthur storms out of the house almost immediately. He sucks in a deep breath, wipes his eyes, and begins to run.

*

“Merlin! Arthur’s here!”

Merlin looks up from his book, puzzled. Arthur left two hours prior, and he’s not supposed to come over again until the next day to spend the night. He stands just as Arthur opens his bedroom door, and only grows more confused as he takes in his boyfriend’s appearance.

“Did you… run here?” he wonders, eyeing the sweat stains and overall disheveled appearance. Arthur nods, silently perching at the edge of his bed. He has yet to meet Merlin’s gaze, and something dark and anxious twists in Merlin’s chest.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Merlin sits cross-legged at his side, rubbing his thigh to try and soothe his tension. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want to,” Arthur states after a moment. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

His evasiveness feeds Merlin’s anxiety. In the absence of evidence to prove otherwise, people will always assume the worst, and his mind conjures images of betrayal. “Arthur? Did you do something… bad?”

Arthur’s eyes finally flick up to meet his, and he shakes his head. “It isn’t me. I swear it isn’t me, Merlin, and I tried…” He trails off, and Merlin bites at his lower lip.

“Just tell me, please?” he finally requests when Arthur doesn’t relinquish any more information. “It can’t be that bad. You’ll feel better once you get it off your chest.”

Arthur shakes his head furiously. “It can’t…” He huffs, feeling his eyes get teary again as the hopeless frustration washes over him. “I’m moving.”

“You’re moving,” Merlin repeats, staring. “Okay. Okay, that’s not so bad. We won’t get to see each other as often, but we can make it. We can talk on the phone every day, and take trains to see each other on holidays, and on some weekends. It… It won’t be ideal, but we can make it, right? We can stay together.”

“It’s not… We’re moving to the states, Merlin. California. Nearly nine thousand kilometers away. We won’t just get to take a train to see each other. We won’t get to see each other at all. I won’t even be able to call you.” He rubs his eyes, not bothering to feel ashamed when he sniffles.

“Oh,” is all Merlin can say, not having anything else to offer. He can’t quite wrap his mind around it- Arthur’s been by his side for ten years, and is it really even possible for him to go so far away? Could they exist like that? His brain blocks the idea instinctively, desperately wanting to protect him from the crippling misery, leaving him unable to make sense of it. They both sit quietly together until Arthur finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want to forget,” he says, staring down at his hands. “I’ve heard… I don’t want to forget what you smell like. How your voice sounds. How you look when you’re curious, or laughing, or when you just smile at me, that smile that’s just for me. I’m fucking terrified that it’ll all get blurry in my mind, and I won’t be able to picture it. That I’ll lose pieces of you, bit by bit, every year that goes by.”

He hears Merlin’s breath hitch and dares to look up, seeing the tears rolling down his boyfriend’s cheeks. Merlin’s lip is quivering as he meets Arthur’s eyes, and he’s quickly Arthur’s lap, wrapped up in his arms. They grieve together, trying to handle the weight of the news.

“You won’t forget,” Merlin whispers when they’ve calmed down a bit, still holding onto each other for dear life. “We’ll cherish the time we have left. Take lots of pictures, so you won’t have to forget anything. And we’ll write. And you’ll come visit me, as soon as you can. When you’re eighteen you can move back here and we can get a cozy little house with a big dog. Remember when we talked about that?”

Arthur chuckles, and it’s a sad sound. “We were five years old.”

“I still want it.” Merlin hugs him tightly, his fingers sifting through the blonde hair soothingly. “It’ll be okay, Arthur. We’ll make it okay,” he promises, trying to believe it himself.

*

The house is big and unfamiliar. Arthur wanders around, trying to get a feel for the place and avoid the afternoon heat outside. He doesn’t want to unpack any more of his things- doesn’t want to feel as though he lives here now. He hasn’t seen Merlin in days, and everything about it feels wrong. He misses his kisses, his touch- he finds he can’t even get himself off, because it only makes him think of Merlin’s hand around his cock and then it feels as though something heavy and painful has settled in his stomach.

Bored with exploring, he retreats to his room and finds a pen and paper. He wrote to Merlin the day they arrived, and hasn’t really expected a reply, as it’s only been two days, but he’s still anxiously waiting to see Merlin’s handwriting. He decides to write again anyway, hoping it will cheer him up some.

*

24 July 1995

Dear Merlin,

I’ve seen every inch of this house now, and I hate it. You would love it, I’m sure- so much open space, and windows all over the place. And we’re on a hill, so you walk in on the second floor, can you believe it? I suppose I wouldn’t hate it so much if you were here. You could pick out some ridiculous polka-dotted curtains and hang up all sorts of odd paintings and we could be blissfully happy.

I just wrote you the other day and not much has changed, so I’ll keep this letter brief. I miss you terribly, and can’t wait to hear back from you. I’ve been double-checking that I have the right return address written to make sure you can reply properly, so please do, as soon as you can. Never mind how desperate that sounds.

Hope you’re doing alright. Give my love to your mum.

Love you,
Arthur

*

3 August 1995

Dear Merlin,

It’s been ten days since I mailed you my first letter, and still haven’t heard back. I’m sure I put the right stamps on. Are you okay? Have you just been busy? I’m a bit worried.

Please write back soon.

Love and miss you,
Arthur

*

2 February 1996

Merlin,

I know it’s getting pointless to send you letters. It’s been six months now, after all. Your mum would have contacted me by now if something had happened to you, I know that, and there’s no way I have the wrong address, or that you don’t have mine. You would know by now if you weren’t writing it correctly or using the proper postage. You just haven’t written to me.

I wish you would have said something, if you hadn’t wanted to make the long distance thing work, rather than having me keep hoping all this time. I was sure it meant more to you than this. It still doesn’t make sense.

I won’t write anymore.

Arthur

*

He folds the letter quickly, slipping it into the addressed envelope. He holds it against his chest as he carries it to the mailbox, where he has slipped letter after letter, just praying that he’ll find something from Merlin when he sifts through the envelopes that his father brings in on his way home from work, but nothing ever comes. His hope has dwindled until he’s given up, and he fights the urge to punch the side of the mailbox once the letter has slipped out of his fingers and through the slot, full of hopeless frustration.

He doesn’t want to give up, wants to keep writing until he hears back, but he knows he’s only torturing himself. He can cling to the idea of Merlin as long as he wants, but it won’t change anything. Merlin has forgotten about him already.

***

Part Two