Summary: All Merlin wanted for his birthday was a day off, but that was too bad, because Arthur hadn’t even remembered that it was Merlin’s birthday. Or had he?
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Merlin's birthday was off to a bad start.
He didn't expect much, certainly not an over-the-top feast like the one held for the king. Gifts, well, he wouldn't turn any away if they were offered, but he certainly didn't need or expect them. An acknowledgement, though, combined with a day off, now that would be nice.
Too bad Arthur didn't agree. As far as the king was concerned, his manservant's birthday was just another day to be waited on. If he even knew it was Merlin's birthday. Normally Merlin was the one who kept Arthur abreast of important dates. Whether it was the knights, the council, or Camelot's allies, Merlin's careful records and reminders ensured that Arthur never missed a birthday or an anniversary.
“You’re like a married couple,” Gwaine had joked a couple of weeks back when he’d overheard Merlin reminding Arthur about Elyan’s birthday. “You should move Merlin into your chambers, Arthur. He already takes care of your laundry and meals. The fact that you haven’t invited him into your bed is…”
Gwaine got cut off with a pointed glare from Arthur, whose face had turned a shade of crimson deeper than that of his tunic. Merlin hated when Gwaine insinuated that he shared something other than friendship with Arthur.
Merlin treasured that friendship – Arthur was his very best friend, albeit a friend who he would very much like to kiss and caress and… Anyway, it didn’t matter. No amount of flirtatious banter, longing looks, or lingering fingers seemed to work. Arthur either didn’t notice or wasn’t receptive. And that was ok, until Gwaine tried to play matchmaker, something he did more frequently these days, resulting in nothing but all around awkwardness for Arthur and Merlin.
No further discussion had followed Gwaine’s latest attempt, as the night had been spent at the Rising Sun to celebrate with Elyan.
Merlin had considered dropping subtle hints about his own birthday, but chickened out. It felt too desperate. Besides, it wasn’t as though Arthur didn’t care for him. Maybe not in the way that Merlin dreamed about, the way that would have started Merlin's day with lazy kisses in bed rather than lugging a serving tray up the countless flights of castle stairs, but such was life.
Besides, birthdays were for children, not grown men.
That was a lie and no amount of repeating it in his head would make Merlin believe it. Kings got birthdays, knights got birthdays, hell, there had even been cake and a new polishing cloth for George.
Birthdays were apparently for everyone but Merlin.
Not only had Arthur forgotten, but no one else seemed to remember either. Gaius hadn’t even bothered with making porridge that morning – he’d sent Merlin to work on an empty stomach. The kitchens refused to offer him any food, and instead shoved a massive serving tray at him.
“It’s heavier than normal,” Merlin complained. “Can you at least spare something for me to eat before I haul that to the king’s chambers?”
“You’re too late,” Audrey chided him. “You can come back at noon when servants get the midday meal. Now go. We can’t keep the king waiting on his breakfast.”
Yes, Merlin could have used magic to get the tray up the stairs, but he chose to carry it anyway, partially because it gave him more to sulk about and also because he didn’t want Arthur to catch him. Sorcery had been legal since Arthur discovered his secret a year ago, but changing the laws had no effect on Arthur’s tendency to tease Merlin, giving him ten kinds of hell every time he caught Merlin using magic for chores.
(Merlin suspected this was revenge for his reluctance to take the position of court sorcerer that Arthur frequently tried to push on him. It wasn’t that Merlin was opposed to advising Arthur on magical matters, but the title came with bureaucratic obligations that he’d rather avoid.)
Finally, he made it to his destination.
As he suspected, Arthur was still curled up under the blankets, fast asleep. Lucky bastard. Merlin set the tray on the table hard enough to make the plates and utensils clang. Despite the noise, the king slept on.
Great. Now Merlin had the added task of waking Arthur up. Normally he didn’t mind, but today Merlin should have been the one lazing about and this was just the icing on the nonexistent cake.
“Arthur, time for breakfast,” Merlin called as he opened the drapes.
The king answered with a snore.
Merlin sighed and walked over to the bed. “Come on. Your food will get cold. You need to eat.”
“Don’t wanna,” Arthur groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. “You eat it.”
There were days when Merlin believed the Triple Goddess was testing his patience. This was rapidly becoming one of them.
“I’m pretty sure it’s treason for a servant to eat the king’s breakfast,” Merlin said. “Now stop whining and get up. You have a busy day ahead and…”
Arthur mumbled something from under the covers that Merlin couldn’t quite make out.
“What did you say?” he asked trying to draw the blanket back. “Let go of the covers. You can’t stay in bed all day.”
“I said,” Arthur began, his face now exposed as he yanked the blanket back from Merlin, “I don’t have a busy day ahead because I’ve taken the day off.”
“You’ve… the whole day?” The Triple Goddess really was testing him. Merlin wasn’t sure he was going to pass.
“That’s right. The whole day. I’ve been working hard lately and I deserve a day off. Today seemed as good a day as any so I had Leon clear my schedule. And since you’re here, I don’t even have to get up for meals. I can eat in bed. Bring the tray over.”
Would Gaius believe Merlin if he said Arthur died of a heart attack? Magic could make it look convincing but Arthur was still young and his heart had been in perfect health at his last exam.
“Stop stalling, Merlin, and get the food. I’m practically starving.”
As he retrieved the tray, Merlin considered how two contradictory things could be simultaneously true. He loved Arthur, he hated Arthur. He’d been excited about his birthday, he was ready for it to be over.
“How would you survive if I wasn’t here?” Merlin grumbled, setting the tray on the bed beside Arthur.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not quite sure how I made it through my first twenty years before you showed up. It’s a relief to know I’ll have you with me for the rest of my days.”
Ok, that was sweet. Presumptuous, yes, but still sweet. Merlin felt his anger waning.
“Lift the lid, Merlin. You can’t expect me to work on my day off.”
Merlin’s annoyance surged, but he did as he was told.
“Great, now I’m going to have to go back to the kitchens. They’ve sent up a cake instead of your breakfast. I knew it was too heavy. I should have checked it before…”
A hand caught Merlin’s wrist before he could pick up the tray.
“Merlin, it’s not a mistake. I specially requested a cake from the kitchens for today.”
Of course Arthur had done something so extravagant. Every day was a party when you were a damn king.
“So you can feast on an entire cake while you laze about?” Merlin knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn’t help it.
“Yes and no. I mean, I hope I get some of it – Audrey went above and beyond this time – but as for eating the entire cake, well, I was hoping you could help me with that. Happy birthday, Merlin.”
Merlin stared at him, trying to make sense of what was happening.
“This is for me? For my birthday?”
“It seems I’m not the only turnip head around here. Yes, Merlin, for you. For your birthday. Now help me eat it.”
“I can’t believe you remembered,” Merlin said as they ate together.
“Ah, about that.” Arthur’s faced turned pink. “Gwaine might have offered some much-needed assistance.”
Merlin laughed. “Of course he did.”
“The cake was my idea, though, along with making sure no one else fed you. And… I was thinking… you also deserve a day off spent in bed.”
“Too bad I’m already up.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go back to bed.”
“Eh, my bed is fifteen flights of stairs away.”
“Mine isn’t.”
“You want me to…?” This had to be a joke. Right? There was no way Arthur could have meant that the way that Merlin wanted him to, except there was a shy vulnerability in Arthur’s eyes Merlin had never seen before.
“If it would make you happy, then I do. I heard a rumor that you might be interested, but rumors aren’t always to be trusted.”
“So Gwaine let that slip then, too?”
It had to have been Gwaine as he was the only one Merlin had entrusted with that particular secret.
“I’ve sworn not to disclose the source of my information. Suffice it to say, it was made clear that I have been a fool for not inviting you sooner, but that your birthday would be the perfect time for me to get my priorities in order.”
“And what are your priorities?” Merlin asked. He thought he knew the answer, but this day had begun so horribly – he didn’t want to risk another disappointment.
“You. And me. Together.”
“In that case,” Merlin said, “I think I rather approve of your plans for the day.”
“Then get your boots off and climb under the covers. We’ll need a nap first, it really is too early to be awake, but then, after we’re rested, you can tell me what you think about my ideas for how we can spend the afternoon.”
“Do they involve leaving this bed?”
“No.”
“Then I think they’re perfect.”
After discarding his boots and returning the tray safely to the table, Merlin slid in next to Arthur.
“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he said as Arthur’s arms slipped around him.
“Good,” Arthur said. “If you keep me around, I promise to make each one better than the last.”
Then Arthur pressed a kiss to his hair and Merlin drifted off, dreaming of what the future held for them.
By tehfanglyfish on ao3