HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Nov. 24th, 2011 08:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magog_83HAPPY BIRTHDAY ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jamie15!! I think Tintin and Snowy just realised they were missing your 21st! ;)
I have written you a short fic, very very loosely inspired by a funny story you told me a while back. I think this has the honour of being the only story I've written set in a toilet...
Thanks toa8c_sock for the quick read through.
.......
Merlin tried the lock again but it wouldn’t budge. He briefly considered banging his head repeatedly against the door, but unless he intended to use his skull as a battering ram that probably wouldn’t help either.
“Bugger,” he said, loudly.
All the lights went out.
“Oh, come on!”
The lights remained stubbornly off, because they, like the world, hated Merlin and wanted him to die in a toilet.
He didn’t even want to be here in the first place, he was only hiding in the bloody loo because Arthur Pendragon had asked to see him about the Murphy Report and then... hovered there, like a warmer and more golden Edward Cullen, leaning against him and saying intelligent things about accounting until Merlin thought his face was going to catch on fire.
When he’d actually put his hand on Merlin’s arm to thank him for his hard work or whatever (Merlin hadn’t been really listening by then, he’d never seen Arthur that close up before), Merlin had muttered something about needing a glass of water and practically ran all the way to the executive bathrooms, even though there was a perfectly good water cooler in the corridor and he had a horrible feeling Arthur had offered him some water when he’d first arrived.
So now he was trapped in the loo, in the dark, and Arthur probably thought he was a moron. More of a moron, if that was possible, since Arthur had an embarrassing habit of always turning up when Merlin was about to make an idiot of himself; or that one time Merlin had forgotten his coat (even though it was November) and Arthur had materialised from nowhere with a brolly.
This was one of the most embarrassing moments of Merlin’s life.
The door creaked open. “Hello? Merlin?”
No, scrap that. This was the most embarrassing moment of his life.
Merlin briefly considered not answering, but then he heard Arthur walk into the bin, swear and start fumbling for the light and figured he was about to get caught out anyway. “Sorry - I’ll be out in a second. Just... hang on.”
The light came on again, or rather one of them did leaving Merlin still mostly in the dark. Then Arthur spoke again, “Why are you in here in the dark?”
“Uh... I think it timed out, or died, or something. Sorry.” He should probably stop apologising.
“Stop apologising,” said Arthur crossly, proving him right. “Are you ill?”
“No?” Damn, perhaps Merlin should have taken the excuse Arthur had just offered him and run with it. “I mean, yes, a little bit.” He coughed a couple of times for good measure. “I’ll be alright in a bit.”
“Oh,” Arthur sounded a bit put out. “Okay.”
There was a loud creak and the thud of the door closing and Merlin was torn between enormous relief at Arthur actually leaving and disappointment that his impending lonely death apparently mattered so little to him.
“Typical,” he muttered and rattled the handle a few more times before kicking the door hard.
“Are you locked in?”
Merlin started so violently he was surprised he didn’t actually rip the door handle off. “Bloody hell, Arthur, I thought you’d gone!”
There was a put upon sigh. “I was waiting for you.”
“In the toilets?”
There was a longer pause this time, then the sound of Arthur awkwardly clearing his throat. “Well you’re lucky I did, since you can’t get out. Were you planning on staying in here all day?”
“It seemed preferable,” said Merlin, before he could engage his brain to mouth filter.
“Right,” said Arthur, after a moment. “Well that’s... Right. Okay then. In that case let’s just get you out and you can, you know, get on with your day, or whatever.”
Merlin frowned, confused by the abrupt change in Arthur’s tone and wishing he could magically see through the door. There were footsteps and Merlin was just about to ask what he was doing when there was a series of scuffling noises and a bang from the cubicle next door and suddenly Arthur’s head appeared over the partition wall, peering down at Merlin.
“What are you doing!” Merlin hissed in outrage. “I could have been undressed.”
Arthur rolled his eyes – even in the dim light Merlin had no difficulty seeing that. “You were trying to open the door so I assumed you were mostly decent, unless you often cavort around the public bathroom in your underwear.”
“No I... No! Of course I don’t,” Merlin could feel his face heating again, why did Arthur always have this effect on him?
“Stop complaining then,” said Arthur pompously, “I’m trying to help you.” He looked at the bolt. “Have you tried wriggling it?”
“Of course not,” snapped Merlin, because that was a stupid question, even for Arthur. “I was hoping I could open it with the power of my mind.”
Arthur scowled. “I was just checking. Very well then, stand back.”
“Why? What are...” He trailed off as Arthur actually took off his suit jacket, tossed it over the partition and then, in an impressive display of athleticism that absolutely did not make Merlin want to ravish him against the cistern, pulled himself up and half clambered, half vaulted over to land next to Merlin. As he straightened up, Merlin gaped like a halfwit, attempting to rearrange his thoughts into something vaguely coherent. “Uh...” was about all he managed.
“Shift over then,” Arthur said, sounding a little flustered. “There’s a knack to these.”
There wasn’t really anywhere to go so Merlin did his best to flatten himself against the wall but was still mostly pressed up against Arthur as he started fiddling with the lock.
Now Arthur had discarded his suit jacket, Merlin could feel the warmth of his skin through the thinner shirt fabric, the shift and flex of his muscles as he yanked at the door. He stared at the wood grain and tried to think of the most horrible thing he could, like Cedric from Reprographics trying to come on to him at the last Christmas party. That had been pretty horrible.
He shuddered, and Arthur suddenly gave the lock a final, rather aggressive twist and clicked it into place, glaring at it like he was quite tempted to take an axe to it instead.
“Wow – there really is a knack,” Merlin said, impressed. He risked a tentative smile. “Thank you.”
Arthur merely grunted and shuffled around as best he could to retrieve his suit jacket from the floor, avoiding his gaze. Merlin assumed that was an executive way of saying ‘you’re welcome’, and quite possibly ‘I still think you’re a moron, please don’t speak to me again.’ Perhaps he would have been better off dying alone in a toilet after all.
Merlin sighed and opened the door, reflecting on the comedy of errors that was his life as he followed Arthur out – and then came face to face with Gwaine, head of acquisitions, who was just walking in.
“Woah!” Gwaine raised his hands. “Sorry, didn’t know it was occupied.”
Arthur had one arm in his suit jacket and one arm out and his tie was askew – all of which Merlin acknowledged didn’t look good.
“Merlin was stuck,” Arthur said, too quickly.
Gwaine looked from Arthur to Merlin, eyeing his flushed face with interest before he grinned widely. “I can see that. And I thought you were just asking him to dinner.”
“What?” said Merlin.
Arthur opened his mouth and shut it again, his face reddening, before, without a word to Merlin, he marched forward, grabbed Gwaine’s arm and propelled him out of the room, ignoring his loud, “Oh shit, sorry.”
The door banged shut.
The single light went out.
“No, seriously, what?”
The End.
Hope you have a great day! Now I must go to work...
jamie15!! I think Tintin and Snowy just realised they were missing your 21st! ;)I have written you a short fic, very very loosely inspired by a funny story you told me a while back. I think this has the honour of being the only story I've written set in a toilet...
Thanks to
a8c_sock for the quick read through.Merlin tried the lock again but it wouldn’t budge. He briefly considered banging his head repeatedly against the door, but unless he intended to use his skull as a battering ram that probably wouldn’t help either.
“Bugger,” he said, loudly.
All the lights went out.
“Oh, come on!”
The lights remained stubbornly off, because they, like the world, hated Merlin and wanted him to die in a toilet.
He didn’t even want to be here in the first place, he was only hiding in the bloody loo because Arthur Pendragon had asked to see him about the Murphy Report and then... hovered there, like a warmer and more golden Edward Cullen, leaning against him and saying intelligent things about accounting until Merlin thought his face was going to catch on fire.
When he’d actually put his hand on Merlin’s arm to thank him for his hard work or whatever (Merlin hadn’t been really listening by then, he’d never seen Arthur that close up before), Merlin had muttered something about needing a glass of water and practically ran all the way to the executive bathrooms, even though there was a perfectly good water cooler in the corridor and he had a horrible feeling Arthur had offered him some water when he’d first arrived.
So now he was trapped in the loo, in the dark, and Arthur probably thought he was a moron. More of a moron, if that was possible, since Arthur had an embarrassing habit of always turning up when Merlin was about to make an idiot of himself; or that one time Merlin had forgotten his coat (even though it was November) and Arthur had materialised from nowhere with a brolly.
This was one of the most embarrassing moments of Merlin’s life.
The door creaked open. “Hello? Merlin?”
No, scrap that. This was the most embarrassing moment of his life.
Merlin briefly considered not answering, but then he heard Arthur walk into the bin, swear and start fumbling for the light and figured he was about to get caught out anyway. “Sorry - I’ll be out in a second. Just... hang on.”
The light came on again, or rather one of them did leaving Merlin still mostly in the dark. Then Arthur spoke again, “Why are you in here in the dark?”
“Uh... I think it timed out, or died, or something. Sorry.” He should probably stop apologising.
“Stop apologising,” said Arthur crossly, proving him right. “Are you ill?”
“No?” Damn, perhaps Merlin should have taken the excuse Arthur had just offered him and run with it. “I mean, yes, a little bit.” He coughed a couple of times for good measure. “I’ll be alright in a bit.”
“Oh,” Arthur sounded a bit put out. “Okay.”
There was a loud creak and the thud of the door closing and Merlin was torn between enormous relief at Arthur actually leaving and disappointment that his impending lonely death apparently mattered so little to him.
“Typical,” he muttered and rattled the handle a few more times before kicking the door hard.
“Are you locked in?”
Merlin started so violently he was surprised he didn’t actually rip the door handle off. “Bloody hell, Arthur, I thought you’d gone!”
There was a put upon sigh. “I was waiting for you.”
“In the toilets?”
There was a longer pause this time, then the sound of Arthur awkwardly clearing his throat. “Well you’re lucky I did, since you can’t get out. Were you planning on staying in here all day?”
“It seemed preferable,” said Merlin, before he could engage his brain to mouth filter.
“Right,” said Arthur, after a moment. “Well that’s... Right. Okay then. In that case let’s just get you out and you can, you know, get on with your day, or whatever.”
Merlin frowned, confused by the abrupt change in Arthur’s tone and wishing he could magically see through the door. There were footsteps and Merlin was just about to ask what he was doing when there was a series of scuffling noises and a bang from the cubicle next door and suddenly Arthur’s head appeared over the partition wall, peering down at Merlin.
“What are you doing!” Merlin hissed in outrage. “I could have been undressed.”
Arthur rolled his eyes – even in the dim light Merlin had no difficulty seeing that. “You were trying to open the door so I assumed you were mostly decent, unless you often cavort around the public bathroom in your underwear.”
“No I... No! Of course I don’t,” Merlin could feel his face heating again, why did Arthur always have this effect on him?
“Stop complaining then,” said Arthur pompously, “I’m trying to help you.” He looked at the bolt. “Have you tried wriggling it?”
“Of course not,” snapped Merlin, because that was a stupid question, even for Arthur. “I was hoping I could open it with the power of my mind.”
Arthur scowled. “I was just checking. Very well then, stand back.”
“Why? What are...” He trailed off as Arthur actually took off his suit jacket, tossed it over the partition and then, in an impressive display of athleticism that absolutely did not make Merlin want to ravish him against the cistern, pulled himself up and half clambered, half vaulted over to land next to Merlin. As he straightened up, Merlin gaped like a halfwit, attempting to rearrange his thoughts into something vaguely coherent. “Uh...” was about all he managed.
“Shift over then,” Arthur said, sounding a little flustered. “There’s a knack to these.”
There wasn’t really anywhere to go so Merlin did his best to flatten himself against the wall but was still mostly pressed up against Arthur as he started fiddling with the lock.
Now Arthur had discarded his suit jacket, Merlin could feel the warmth of his skin through the thinner shirt fabric, the shift and flex of his muscles as he yanked at the door. He stared at the wood grain and tried to think of the most horrible thing he could, like Cedric from Reprographics trying to come on to him at the last Christmas party. That had been pretty horrible.
He shuddered, and Arthur suddenly gave the lock a final, rather aggressive twist and clicked it into place, glaring at it like he was quite tempted to take an axe to it instead.
“Wow – there really is a knack,” Merlin said, impressed. He risked a tentative smile. “Thank you.”
Arthur merely grunted and shuffled around as best he could to retrieve his suit jacket from the floor, avoiding his gaze. Merlin assumed that was an executive way of saying ‘you’re welcome’, and quite possibly ‘I still think you’re a moron, please don’t speak to me again.’ Perhaps he would have been better off dying alone in a toilet after all.
Merlin sighed and opened the door, reflecting on the comedy of errors that was his life as he followed Arthur out – and then came face to face with Gwaine, head of acquisitions, who was just walking in.
“Woah!” Gwaine raised his hands. “Sorry, didn’t know it was occupied.”
Arthur had one arm in his suit jacket and one arm out and his tie was askew – all of which Merlin acknowledged didn’t look good.
“Merlin was stuck,” Arthur said, too quickly.
Gwaine looked from Arthur to Merlin, eyeing his flushed face with interest before he grinned widely. “I can see that. And I thought you were just asking him to dinner.”
“What?” said Merlin.
Arthur opened his mouth and shut it again, his face reddening, before, without a word to Merlin, he marched forward, grabbed Gwaine’s arm and propelled him out of the room, ignoring his loud, “Oh shit, sorry.”
The door banged shut.
The single light went out.
“No, seriously, what?”
The End.
Hope you have a great day! Now I must go to work...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 08:46 am (UTC)(And, haha, I was half expecting it to be a Tintin story, given the picture attached!)
Happy birthday to the birthday girl/guy/person. :D
no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 09:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 09:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 07:43 pm (UTC)This certainly ranks among the top 5 of the sweetest things anybody has ever done for me :)! And it's such a cute and funny story too! :D I am glad I could inspire you to write it - and not at all sorry for its setting :D!
I particularly love this part:
“Stop complaining then,” said Arthur pompously, “I’m trying to help you.” He looked at the bolt. “Have you tried wriggling it?”
“Of course not,” snapped Merlin, because that was a stupid question, even for Arthur. “I was hoping I could open it with the power of my mind.”
Haha, in another universe you actually could Merlin :D!
And about the Tintin picture - you can't realise how perfectly you chose it, but a friend of mine gifted me with a huuuge Tintin poster today when I got to class - so it really is like it's Tintin rushing off to meet me there :D! AND he made it in time!
Thank you so much again <3!
no subject
Date: 2011-11-25 06:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 08:45 am (UTC)Poor Merlin.
Poor Arthur.
Talk about comedy of errors, or comedy of assumptions.
That was fun.