Pairing/s: One sided Merthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwen
Summary: Merlin admires Arthur from afar in secret. Literally.
Warnings: The double p's. Peeping & pining
Word Count: 1065
Prompt: #96, Secret Admirer.
Author's Notes: Unbeta'd. Wow, I almost didn't make it in time for the prompt this week... ;_;
Merlin had assumed two containers of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream would be enough sustenance for a movie night in with Gwen, but what he hadn’t counted on was his roommate’s insatiable sweet-tooth.
He surveyed the destruction. Their kitchen counter was covered in sticky gobs of chocolate, but thankfully there was enough ice cream left in the bottom of each container for Merlin to create a Frankenstein fusion for himself. He scooped a blob of chocolate into what remained of the Cherry Garcia, and then walked back into the living room.
Gwen was glued to the TV screen, or more precisely, the rain drenched Ryan Gosling gracing it. She was always looking for an excuse to watch The Notebook.
They’d watched the movie twice together this month alone.
“Get a room you two,” Merlin groaned, joining Gwen on the couch.
Gwen smiled at him conspiratorially. “Speaking of room’s, should we see what 207 is up too tonight?”
The mention of 207’s name caused Merlin’s jaw to clamp down on his spoon, almost chipping his molars. Merlin moved to the end of the couch and peeled back the curtains, peeking into the open window of the apartment across the street.
207 was home all right. His muscles straining as he ran full-force on a treadmill.
Spying on 207 had become an open secret between them, but Merlin was pretty sure that Gwen had no idea just how often he fantasized about fucking the guy in the apartment across the street. Merlin must have seen 207's pert ass running away from him a hundred times on that stupid treadmill, and yet he never tired of drooling over it
“He’s on the treadmill, again... shirtless.“ Merlin swallowed, pulling his spoon from his mouth before he accidentally choked on it.
Gwen broke her staring contest with the television. “He is not. You’re teasing!”
“Look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Merlin replied in a hoarse voice. “It’s nothing but ass and pecks over there!“
She leaned over Merlin, glancing out the window, and then made a high-pitched squeak.
“Forget the movie,” Gwen said, elbowing Merlin to get a better view. “This live show is way better."
Admittedly, their peeping was weird. But ever since Gwen and Merlin had realized that the neighbor across the way was not only gorgeous, but never closed his blinds, they’d been enamored. They had decided to nickname their hot neighbor 207, in honor of the unit number he lived in. From what Merlin could tell, 207's hobbies included working out, walking around his bedroom shirtless, and drinking beverages straight from the carton.
“He’s going for the fridge now!“ Merlin said, fusing his forehead to the window glass.
“Juice or water?” Gwen asked.
Merlin watched the man shake out his hair golden hair, his toned arm reaching for something buried deep within his fridge.
“It looks like a milk carton," Merlin said.
Gwen bit her bottom lip. “I’d buy that man so much milk if he’d come over to my place. A bathtub full of it!”
Merlin chucked his empty ice cream container onto the coffee table, burying his head into his hands. “Gwen, do you have any idea how incredibly creepy that sounded?”
“Me? Creepy?” she snorted. “You’re the one who suggested that we buy binoculars to get a better view of him!“
Merlin gaped at his roommate like a hooked fish. “That...that... was a joke!”
It wasn’t a joke. Merlin bought the binoculars a week ago.
Gwen merely smiled up at Merlin with her patented, Merlin I wouldn’t buy your excuses if they were free smile, and then said; “We desperately need boyfriends, don’t we, Merlin?”
Merlin could almost taste the awkwardness that followed. The both of them fighting not to be the first person to give in and look back into apartment 207.
“Or therapists?” Merlin offered.
Gwen sighed gravely. “Boyfriends are cheaper.”
It was Merlin who gave in first. He took one last glance into the apartment across the way, and then let the heavy curtains fall into place. “Yeah,” he agreed, blinking once to clear his mind. “But a therapist would be easier to find."