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If anyone asked Merlin later (much, much later) when he fell for Uther, he’d tell them a quirky, funny story about a slow burn of feelings building up through all those late nights at the office or the international trips or the company parties.
But the truth, that not even Uther knew, not really, was different. Sort of. It started with all-nighter sleepovers with Arthur, staying up hopped up on sugary drinks and snacks, his father a quiet presence in the big leather chair in the corner of the room, head in a book, shaking from time to time when Merlin and Arthur got particularly rowdy. Merlin looked up to him then, probably still feared him a bit, trying to quiet Arthur down, but failing, then later vaguely remembering a warm hand brushing through his hair gently as a blanket was laid on top of them once they passed out in a heap.
Then, it turned into international family trips, three twelve-year-olds eager to see the world, still green around the gills, eyes wide and grins from ear to ear. Merlin especially liked the times when Uther’s work allowed him to join them, even for a breakfast in a Parisian café, or a couple hours walking them through the ruins at Pompeii.
Finally, it was Christmas parties when Merlin knew Uther looked the other way as a fifteen-year-old Arthur very discreetly snuck them glasses of champagne and wine until they were both giggling in a way definitely not befitting the polite company and Uther would send Gaius to let them know they were free to go. (And they would. With a bottle of champagne under one of their jackets.)
Living with the Pendragons was something Merlin did for practically half his life, with how disgustingly close he and Arthur were as kids, so it was only normal that once he finished uni and hadn't found a job, and his mum had moved back to Wales to run a cosy bed and breakfast, Merlin moved back into the second guest his room.
He hadn't realized how awkward it’d be at first, without Arthur, or even Morgana as buffers in the quiet of the giant mansion. The conversation didn't really flow once they’d run out of all-things-Arthur to talk about and they were left with shared silences interrupted only by the scraping of cutlery of the shuffling of newspaper, depending.
It didn't help, even then, that Merlin hadn't gotten laid in ages and he knew he’d always sported a bit of a crush on Uther that he hoped was just some misdirected daddy issues, or transference that would leave once he had. But it didn't, not even when he did, and especially not when he came back. Sure, Uther wasn't the same guy who’d raced them swimming laps and win each time some years ago, but he hadn't gotten any less handsome, or less grand, or less impressive. He wore a regular pair of slacks and cashmere sweater the same way he filled out a suit, wore it like a second skin and exuded power and confidence with every step. Power that Merlin knew he had, had seen him use on a number of occasions (in spite of as hilarious as it seemed to Merlin that Uther was to be the CEO of the world’s second largest cat food company – Catmelot).
If Merlin didn't know him as well as he did, he may have wondered if he was always this put together, but having once helped a drunk, crying Uther back to his bed after one too many on the anniversary of Ygraine's death so Arthur wouldn't see him, he knew better.
In retrospect, it all would have probably remained the same, the two of them living together, Merlin with his crush he kept hoping would leave, and Uther seemingly at a loss for words without being able to talk about production costs and developments in cat food science (no, really, apparently there were many).
But after a few months of Merlin’s completely fruitless job search in an oversaturated market for any person without actual Public Relations experience, and Uther firing his third personal assistant that week, things came to a head.
“What was wrong with this one?” Merlin asked around a bite of apple, ignoring Uther’s pointed glance at his full mouth or the bit of juice dripping out the side.
Uther sat across from him at the large island in the kitchen, folder full of CVs and applications in front of him, his laptop on one side, and a fresh cup of Earl Grey on the other. He put another page through the shredder next to the stool, sighed, then said, “She reorganized the filing system in my office.”
Merlin wasn’t expecting this. The other two were fired for something much more trivial like mixing up Uther’s coffee order or wearing purple (it was the official colour of That Other Cat Food Brand and Uther had a Thing about it) and hearing the reasons Uther had for firing them was quickly becoming one of Merlin’s favourite pastimes. The filing system though...Wait.
“You don’t mean the one Arthur and I designed during the summer we interned there?”
Uther didn’t look up from his laptop, fingers typing briskly, but he mhm’d and nodded his head.
Huh.
Merlin took another bite of his apple, but wasn’t sure what else to say, especially with the way Uther’s brow was furrowed already, so he slipped off the stool and wished him luck before going to his room to idly watch all the YouTube videos ever look for more jobs.
***
With an eyeroll but without giving it any real thought, Merlin locked his phone without replying and made his way downstairs, the scent of fresh coffee far too tantalizing. It was well past 10 so he knew he’d be alone and wore only his loose flannel pyjamas. So he was definitely not expecting, eyes closed, arms stretched out above his head, walking from instinct alone, to hear the clatter of a spoon.
Merlin choked on a yawn and nearly went to cover himself up before he remembered he wasn’t naked, and for all intents and purposes, he was at home.
“Sorry, I didn’t know if anyone else was here,” Uther told him, the silver spoon in his hand now stirring his coffee (cream, brown sugar). “I haven’t been here during the day in so long.” Uther shook his head and took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, it’s fine.” Merlin made his way around the island, decidedly ignoring how close he was to Uther, who was still in his robe and pyjamas, feeling entirely too intimate. He grabbed his mug from the cupboard and filled it up, then took a big gulp to fill the silence.
Grabbing one of the muffins from the platter in the corner, Merlin sat down opposite Uther and started to tear it apart before eating (bottom first, then the top).
“So, why are you here during the day?” Merlin asked before he could think better of it and immediately went to correct himself. “I mean, not that you can’t be. I just mean - is everything okay?”
Uther looked up from his laptop and looked confused, like he himself wasn’t quite sure, but said, in the end, “Slow day at the office.”
Merlin nodded, then felt his phone vibrate against his thigh as he took another sip of his tea. He put the cup down deliberately, making Uther look back up at him, then took a deep breath.
“Do you still need a new personal assistant?”
***
Because Arthur was right (a thing he would never know) and Merlin did know Uther really well, working for him was much easier than either of them anticipated. Merlin had heard his complaints about his previous personal assistants enough times to know what to expect and look out for, and had lived with him long enough to have the insight they all lacked.
Sure, some things were a bit different. For one, they had to leave the house together at ungodly hours, especially when they traveled so Merlin couldn’t sleep in til 10, and Uther did skip a whole day of work just to take him shopping for “something more acceptable for my personal assistant, honestly Merlin, your dress is a reflection of me and the company,” and Merlin knew far more about cat food than he ever thought possible (though they still couldn’t get one because Uther was allergic). But other than that, things were the same.
Mostly.
Merlin scrolled through his phone, making sure all his calendars were synched and cursed under his breath as he replied to another useless email from HR so Uther didn’t have to. He was sitting in a chair in the corner of Uther’s bedroom, waiting for him to come out of his giant closet so they could leave for the day, and it still sometimes hit him like a rotten cabbage to the face, that he was up before Uther, that he hadn’t looked for another job and that in spite of everything, he was happy.
“Tell me,” Uther called out, head popping around the corner with the collar of his shirt popped up as he did up the buttons.
“Teleconference with Korea, Turkey, and India got pushed back til Wednesday at 7am, so we’ll have to do it from home, which pushes back our flight - yes I rebooked it - to New York a couple hours, but we’ll still be there in time for the press conference. And I made reservations for two at that restaurant you like for Friday and made sure Arthur could make it-”
“Three.” Uther said.
“What?” Merlin tried to retrace back through everything he’d said, looking for the place where he misspoke.
Uther came out of his closet, tossing his suit jacket on the bed as he fixed up his tie in front of the mirror then turned to Merlin. “The reservations, Merlin. Make them for three. You’re coming too, aren’t you?”
“Oh. I wasn’t sure--” Merlin didn’t know what to say. He knew he was going to try to see Arthur at some point, get caught up and drunk, hopefully in a way that avoided any scandals, but he wasn’t expecting Uther to invite him along.
That actually was the one thing that shifted, just the barest bit, as they worked together longer and longer. Their working relationship became almost symbiotic, working in tandem, around and with each other perfectly, but the old calm domesticity they once shared was just not the same. The frantic energy of work permeated the house now, too, following them around like a fog that kept them close enough to see each other, but was thick enough that they couldn’t see clearly.
“Of course you’re coming,” Uther said, eyes firmly on his hands as he fixed his tie.
By the time he was finished, Merlin was standing behind him with his jacket and sliding it over his arms with practiced ease, brushing the imaginary dust from his shoulders and completely ignoring the fresh scent of Uther’s expensive shower gel and shampoo and aftershave. Instead he stepped back to the chair and picked up his phone and Uther’s briefcase and handed it to him with a quiet, “Thank you.”
Uther nodded at him and brushed past Merlin laying a hand on his bicep and squeezing briefly before he left.
Merlin didn’t fully realize he was still standing there, practically breathless, until he heard a rather firm “Merlin, I’m not paying you to stay in my bedroom all day!” from down the hallway. He blushed from head to toe, but rushed after Uther, and only once he caught up with him said, “Yeah, because then I’d probably be making a lot more money.”
It turned out that even with the thick work fog and lack of domesticity, Merlin’s crush hadn’t really gone away. (And not even the fact that he had to work with HR only that day changed it one bit either.)
***
Or so he thought.
It was after one of these wild nights out with Arthur (Uther shaking his head just like when they were little and looking very unlike the boss Merlin had gotten used to when he told him to go and have fun, reminding him their meetings didn’t start til the afternoon the next day), that things changed.
Merlin did have fun, but without a single one of the guys he was interested in willing to go back to their place, the fun along with the buzz of alcohol in his veins were slowly winding down. It was probably for the best, he thought as he finally decided to head home leaving Arthur in the capable hands of Gwaine, Percy and Elena (whose relationship Merlin tried to ask about once, and got four entirely different replies). Literally. Percy was mouthing at Arthur’s neck from the back, hand slipping under Elena’s shirt while Gwaine was straddling him and making out with him like his life depended on it.
Arthur would be fine.
***
He tried his best to be quiet as he made his way through the door, key scraping against the lock too much for how sober Merlin was feeling now, though he could definitely go for a glass of water and something sweet. Or salty. He wasn’t picky.
And as he dropped the keys on the side table against the wall, he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Merlin,” Uther said, turning around, arm over the back of the couch, to face him. He sounded a bit surprised, or sad, and when Merlin noticed the lonely half-full bottle of scotch and the empty tumbler next to it, he could see why.
“I’m sorry if I-”
“I thought you’d be out longer-”
They both started at once. Uther inclined his head at Merlin, so Merlin started again. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I’ll just grab some water and a hot pocket and be out of your hair.” He tried to smile at Uther before he toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket.
“No, it’s. It’s ok,” Uther said, and Merlin heard the quiet snick of the bottle cap, then the gurgling of the scotch being poured into the glass. “I thought you’d be out longer or come back...not alone.” He downed the finger he’d just poured himself in one gulp.
“Oh.”
“Sorry. Did you have a good time?”
“Yes, it was fine.”
“Good. And Arthur?”
Merlin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “More than fine, I think.”
Uther smiled at him, but looked away after. “Good. That’s good.”
Merlin was not drunk enough for this, or maybe still too drunk, because he was confused. He went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the designer water bottles from the fridge that he frankly thought were no better than tap water, and a spring roll from the take-away box, taking a bite out of it right away.
Definitely not drunk enough. It tasted awful. He threw it out and drank some water on the way to his room. Stopping only to say goodnight to Uther (much less awkward than ignoring him).
“I’m gonna head to bed, unless you need something.”
He was just about to walk by, but Uther grabbed his wrist, far too gently for such a gesture, really, but it was enough to stop Merlin in his tracks.
“Stay,” Uther said and when Merlin didn’t reply after a few seconds, he let his hand slip from Merlin’s wrist and Merlin felt colder. He looked down at Uther, really looked at him, at the way his arm was still pointed toward Merlin on the back of the couch and the way Uther looked more tired...or sad than Merlin remembered.
“Okay,” he said eventually and headed to the kitchen. He pulled out another water bottle and walked back to Uther, sitting down next to him and handing it to him. “But you have to drink some water first.”
Uther laughed, but he took the bottle from Merlin and drank about half of it before cocking an eyebrow at Merlin then placing it on the table.
Merlin smiled and took another swig from his own bottle then put it on the table, too, then rested his head against the couch, closing his eyes.
“Everything okay?” he eventually asked Uther. When he didn’t get a reply he opened his eyes and turned his face toward him, cheek resting against the cool vinyl. When Uther turned to look at him, he seemed much closer than Merlin remembered, and he could feel his heart speeding up, his hands clamming up, feeling awkward just resting on his lap.
Uther leaned forward, away from Merlin before he spoke. “Yes, Merlin. Everything is fine.” He paused. “You know, I never thank you enough.”
“What?”
“For taking such good care of me over the past few years. Even before that.”
Merlin sat up and watched as Uther’s hand hovered by the table, almost wavering between the scotch and the water, but he took up the water. Merlin was worried though.
“What are you talking about? It’s my job.” Wait. “You’re not sacking me, are you?”
The laugh Uther let out rang hollow through the room, but he looked genuinely amused when he looked back at Merlin, face warm and open and everything Merlin kept trying to fight against day after day. Shit.
Uther turned back to Merlin and took one of Merlin’s clammy awkward hands in his and looked at it, grazing Merlin’s knuckles with his thumb while Merlin’s heart lodged itself firmly in his chest.
“I’m not sacking you, Merlin. I don’t think I could live without you at this point.”
What?
“What?”
The whole world around them went still. Silent. Or maybe it was the perk of being in the penthouse, no street noise getting in. No noise at all. Except the deafening beating of Merlin’s heart, faster and faster.
Uther moved first (of course, since Merlin couldn’t have if he tried) and dropped Merlin’s hand, moving to get up. “Merlin, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…It was out of line.”
Merlin did move then finally and reached for Uther, in a hilarious mimic of his earlier gesture, catching his hand. “No.”
“Merlin. Please.” Uther’s voice was soft. He tried pulling his hand away, using his other one to gently pry Merlin’s off.
“Did you mean it?”
When Uther didn’t reply (but also didn’t move), Merlin tugged him down on the couch again, moving closer and putting his hands on Uther’s face to make him look at Merlin, so he could see, so his heart could stop racing and his lungs could catch air again.
“Uther. Did you mean that?”
Uther put a hand over one of Merlin’s and held it in place, then looked Merlin straight in the eyes, so much more the CEO than he was just moments ago. “Have you ever known me to say something I didn’t mean?”
Fuck.
“No.”
Merlin kissed him.
***
The quiet in the penthouse that night wasn’t just Merlin’s overactive imagination, it really was one of the perks. One which worked both ways, with the thick, sound-proof walls that had come in handy many times since that night.
Like now.
They were back on the same couch, but neither of them was shy or drunk or surprised by any of it and Merlin wasn’t shaking with some overwhelming emotion, but with the sheer force of each of Uther’s powerful thrusts into him. They were slow and hard and perfect. Each time Uther drove into him, he rubbed against Merlin’s prostate, making him cry out and try to grab at anything within reach. Including Uther’s wrist to remove his hand from its vice grip around the base of Merlin’s cock, keeping him from coming.
“Fuck, please…please.” Merlin thought words were forming, falling out of his mouth, but he couldn’t be sure, because nothing was changing. Uther’s thrusts were just as excruciating in their pleasure-pain-pleasure scale and he kept nipping and sucking at Merlin’s neck, undeterred by the way Merlin was clawing at his back. He pulled his mouth away only to talk.
“Please what?” he asked, stilling inside Merlin, cock pressed in all the way. He mouthed at Merlin’s jaw and held his face still with his free hand so Merlin couldn’t kiss him properly.
Merlin wanted to cry.
“Please fuck me,” Merlin responded, using Uther’s lack of full leverage to cant his hips up a bit, then back, fucking himself on Uther’s cock. He punctuated each movement with a word. “Hard. And fast. And deep. Oh-oh fuck.” Merlin was building up a rhythm. “A-and let me come you fucking asshole!”
“As you wish,” Uther said (and Merlin would probably have laughed or regretted showing him The Princess Bride if he wasn’t too busy finally being kissed properly and fucked properly as Uther let go of his cock and his face and propped himself up better, then moved.
After that, for Merlin it was a frantic blur of Uther’s face and the ceiling and the darkness behind his eyelids. He could barely move, not in control of any of his muscles, every nerve in his body firing only pleasure, an overwhelming explosion of ecstasy when he finally came.
Uther fucked him through it, kissing him over and over, though Merlin was almost entirely unresponsive, too fucked out to think or move or do anything that didn’t involve his cock twitching and trying to come more. Uther finally emptied himself into Merlin, panting above him, nearly falling on top of Merlin until Merlin kicked at him and Uther pulled out.
They arranged themselves somehow on the couch, sticking to it not entirely pleasantly, but neither of them cared, and Uther cradled Merlin against him, one hand rubbing circles against Merlin’s back, the other entwined with Merlin’s on his chest. Merlin pressed his face next to their hands, against Uther’s sweaty chest.
So yeah, when someone asked him, Merlin did usually tell them some funny or quirky story about late nights at the office, or the international trips, or the company parties, but as he felt Uther nip and kiss at his wrist while Merlin ran his finger around the shell of Uther’s ear, Merlin knew it wasn’t the whole story.
(Unfortunately for him, so did Arthur.)
***