Fic: Teachers Do It With Class (2/2)
* * *
The car park was like an ice rink as Merlin carefully made his way across it. The last thing he needed was to slip up and break a limb on the last day of school before Christmas. At least he didn’t have to worry about students missing his lessons today. No one did any work on the last day anyway.
Merlin enjoyed his classes, the pupils were excitable but not irritating and even Mordred appeared to be smiling. Merlin was able to relax and smile and joke with them a little, pleased that his first full term had passed without any problems apart from the slight inconvenience of his epic crush on a certain PE teacher
After he’d dismissed his final class with good wishes for the holiday he collected his belongings and picked his way slowly across the still-icy yard towards the Art Department. He climbed the small flight of steps without mishap and slipped inside the warmth of the corridor.
He poked his head into Morgana’s classroom to wish her a Merry Christmas. She appeared to be engrossed in a painting she was working on, blue paint being streaked in frenzied swipes over the canvas. Merlin shrugged and went to find Gwen, who was happily restocking the art supplies.
“Merry Christmas,” he grinned as he poked his head around the door.
“Merry Christmas.” She replied with a smile, stopping what she was doing long enough to give him a hug. “Are you heading off now?”
“Yeah,” Merlin replied. “I said goodbye to Morgana but I don’t think she heard me.”
“Was she painting?” Gwen asked. “She always zones out when she’s working on something. Don’t worry about it. It’s an artist thing I think.”
“Okay,” Merlin replied. “Well, I guess I’ll see you after the holidays then.”
He headed back outside, wincing as the cold air hit him when he opened the door. That was when he saw Arthur, or his head at least, as he passed by on the other side of the yard. Great, now his last, lingering memory was going to be of him.
He was so busy trying not to think about Arthur that he didn’t even realise he’d stepped on a patch of ice until his feet went out from under him and he crashed to the ground with a high pitched yelp.
Almost at once Arthur had crossed the yard and was bending over him. “Careful, it’s slippery.”
“So I see,” said Merlin from his undignified position at Arthur’s feet.
Arthur laughed and reached out to grab Merlin’s hand and haul him upright.
“Ow.” Merlin said as a sharp pain darted up his leg. “My ankle hurts.”
“Let me have a look.” Arthur said, guiding Merlin to a bench. Merlin sat down and Arthur knelt in front of him, picking up the injured ankle and placing warm hands around it, feeling gently. “I don’t think it’s broken.” He said eventually. “You’ve just twisted it. It shouldn’t be too painful. Walk it off.”
Merlin found himself pulled to his feet again and took a few tentative steps before his ankle gave out and he reached blindly for something to steady himself as he began to fall. Unfortunately the closest thing to hand was Arthur and as he grabbed hold of him the force knocked Arthur flat on his back with Merlin lying on top of him.
“Do not get turned on by this. Do not get turned on by this.” Merlin repeated over and over again in his head, but it was difficult with Arthur lying beneath him and their faces only a few inches apart.
“You need to eat more,” Arthur said with an amused smile. “I’ve got students who weigh more than you do.”
He didn’t seem to be making any attempt to get out from underneath Merlin, which just made things worse.
“Um,” was all Merlin could manage to say and that just caused Arthur’s smile to widen.
“We should go to the pub.” Arthur finally announced, still making no effort to extract himself. “You’ve got plenty of time for marking this time, and I’m not convinced you should be driving with your ankle like that. Have a drink with me and then I’ll drive you home.”
Merlin panicked when he realised he couldn’t think of a single excuse to say no.
“Okay,” he finally croaked and only then did Arthur help him back to his feet.
***
Merlin hobbled into The Crown, acutely aware of Arthur’s hand at his elbow, feeling as if the supportive touch was burning through his clothes and making indelible marks on his skin.
He noticed that William was behind the bar, busy with a sudden influx of people eager to drink to the festive season before they returned to their families and the inevitable turkey binge. William glanced towards Merlin and gave a small smile that disappeared hurriedly as his eyes swept towards Arthur. Merlin felt a little frisson of pleasure that Arthur was at his side which he quickly buried as it might lead his mind to more dangerous territory.
“Guinness?” Arthur asked as he deposited Merlin into the nearest vacant chair.
Merlin wrinkled up his nose instinctively in dislike and instead ordered a pint of Fosters. He figured that since he wasn’t going to be driving home he might as well have a proper drink, and it was in no way because he didn’t want Arthur to think he was a girl for only drinking a half.
William handed the drinks to Arthur with a scowl and a grunt but Arthur seemed oblivious as he took the drinks and headed over to where Merlin was sitting.
“Well, Merry Christmas, Merlin,” Arthur said as he clinked their glasses together. Merlin took a deep drink and for the first time in Arthur’s presence he relaxed.
Two further pints down the line and he’d moved from relaxed to slouching in his seat, his injured ankle in Arthur’s lap and an inane grin plastered on his face.
“You know, you’re not nearly as much of an arse as I first thought,” he slurred as he took a sip of his drink. “You’re quite nice in fact.”
“You’re drunk,” Arthur smiled and rubbed his hand in soothing circles over Merlin’s ankle.
“Am not!” Merlin protested. “And even if I am it’s your fault.”
“Finish up and I’ll take you home.” Arthur said.
When Merlin’s glass was finally empty - most of it spilt on the table rather than actually drunk - Arthur helped him to his feet and they half walked, half staggered out and headed back towards the school car park.
“I’ve got to grab a few things from my office before we go. Do you think you can make it or do you want to wait here?” Arthur asked as they reached his car.
“I’ll manage,” said Merlin who, thanks to the alcohol, could no longer feel any pain at all and they slowly walked across the field towards Arthur’s office.
“You work so far away from everyone else.” Merlin said peering out of Arthur’s office window towards the sports complex. “I don’t think I’ve ever been over here except to yell at you.”
“I’ll give you a tour.” Arthur offered. “We could go now while it’s quiet.”
Merlin shrugged. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else he had to be and he was quite curious about where Arthur worked. “Yeah, ok.”
Arthur grinned. “We have an amazing swimming pool. It’s Olympic-sized.”
Merlin grinned back. “I like swimming.”
“Come on, I’ll help you walk.”
If Merlin was honest he probably didn’t need help thanks to the numbing from the beer, but if Arthur wanted to hold onto him and help him then he certainly wasn’t going to complain.
The air was sharp with the smell of chlorine as they walked into the building that contained the pool, but it was wonderfully warm and made Merlin feel sleepy. He leaned into Arthur as they walked through the changing rooms and to the poolside. Merlin had never seen an Olympic sized pool before, apart from on TV. It was a lot bigger than he’d imagined
“Wow.”
“It’s impressive isn’t it?” Arthur said proudly and Merlin nodded mutely.
They stood in a companionable silence for a few moments, watching as the reflection from the lights danced across the smooth surface of the water.
“You know, swimming’s very good for injuries like yours.” Arthur ventured after a while.
“Oh.” Merlin said. “Ok.” And he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to Arthur.
“Merlin what are you doing?” Arthur asked with a laugh.
“Swimming.” Merlin answered with a mischievous grin and pulled his jumper over his head.
“Merlin!” said Arthur, his voice muffled as Merlin’s jumper sailed across the small space between them and wrapped around his head.
By the time he’d extricated himself Merlin had stripped down to his underwear and was climbing into the pool. “Come on in, it’s lovely!” he said as he submerged himself in the water.
A moment later a pair of blue boxers landed with a wet slap on the side of the pool and Merlin’s grin widened. “Well, are you coming?”
He laughed as Arthur undressed faster than he’d ever seen anyone do so before and dived into the water with a gleeful cry. The waves he made splashed Merlin in the face but Merlin didn’t care. This was more fun than he could ever remember having before
“Hi,” Arthur said as he swam over to join him.
“Hi,” Merlin replied with a smile.
“How’s the ankle?”
“Fine. It’s nice and warm in here.”
Arthur agreed and began to swim lazy circles around Merlin, humming the Jaws theme tune. Merlin splashed water at Arthur and tried to hop away.
Arthur laughed and disappeared under the water, resurfacing in a great spout of water in front of Merlin who gripped onto Arthur’s arm and laughed loudly.
Arthur face grew sombre and he glanced down at Merlin’s hand that was still clasped around his arm.
“You know we really shouldn’t be doing this.”
Merlin shrugged. “I don’t care if you don’t.”
“I should,” Arthur replied. “But I don’t.”
Merlin leaned in close, aching for what he had experienced in his dreams to become a reality but not daring to hope it could be. When Arthur reached up a hand to caress his cheek before closing the distance between them and kissing him, it took a moment for Merlin to convince himself that this was really happening. Then he let out a soft moan of contentment and kissed Arthur back. It was the sweetest, most delicious kiss he’d ever had in his entire life and it surpassed all of his dreams and fantasies.
Then the enormity, the reality, of what they were doing, of where they were, hit him and he jerked back, breaking their kiss with a horrified gasp. “Oh God!”
“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, confused.
“Oh no!” Said Merlin shaking his head, “No, no, no, no, no!”
“Merlin, what’s wrong?” Arthur repeated, reaching for Merlin’s shoulders but not quite making it as Merlin took two steps backwards before turning and wading towards the steps.
Arthur charged after him, grabbing hold of Merlin’s arm. The gesture caused Merlin to slip and he let out a cry of pain as he fell off the step and landed on his injured ankle before disappearing under the water.
Arthur quickly grabbed him and pulled him out, holding him close to stop him falling again.
“It’s ok, I’ve got you.”
Merlin squirmed in his arms and tried to get free. “I have to go home.”
He could feel Arthur go rigid and immediately he stilled in his arms.
“Of course,” Arthur replied stiffly. “I’ll drive you.”
Merlin shook his head and eased himself free. “I think I’ll take a taxi.”
Arthur tried to reason with Merlin as he clambered slowly from the pool, wincing as he put his weight gingerly on his throbbing ankle, but Merlin refused to listen as he gathered up his clothes and disappeared into the changing rooms leaving Arthur bobbing unhappily in the water.
* * *
On the first day back in the New Year Merlin, ankle now perfectly fine, strode towards his classroom consciously avoiding even so much as flickering his eyes towards the sports complex. The holidays had gone so quickly it didn’t seem five minutes since he’d shamelessly stripped in front of Arthur - his boss’s son! - and cavorted about with him in the pool.
He’d spent the entire fortnight hoping for a phone call from Arthur and, every night when he climbed into bed having not received any such call he told himself sternly that he didn’t want a one and he didn’t really like Arthur all that much anyway.
He almost believed himself.
By the time the bell for first lesson rang Merlin had convinced himself that maybe everything was going to be all right.
That was, until he was presented with four exemption slips.
His cheeks flushed and he sent the students away with a murmured acceptance. Arthur had clearly decided what had happened in the pool was a huge mistake, which it was, and that things needed to go back to the way they were. Merlin wanted to agree. Things were so much easier before, but he still felt like part of himself had been ripped apart.
He conducted his lesson quietly and even Mordred seemed to know better than to make a fuss.
“Did you have a nice Christmas?” Gwen asked cheerily when he joined her and Morgana for their morning tea break. Merlin simply nodded.
Morgana studied him intently and although she said nothing Merlin had the most uncomfortable feeling that she knew something. If Gwen suspected something was amiss - and she probably did, Merlin conceded, because she glanced at Morgana before continuing - she didn’t question him and instead talked about her own holiday escapades.
During the rest of the day Merlin allowed so many pupils with exemption slips to leave his lessons he almost wondered whether he’d have anyone left to teach by the end of the week. But, however hard he tried he couldn’t feel angry. Instead he just felt a dull ache and a desperate churning in his stomach as he pocketed them morosely one-by-one and dismissed each child silently.
When the day ended he trudged slowly across to Morgana’s classroom for tea and biscuits. He didn’t really feel like it but he knew if he didn’t arrive that Morgana and Gwen would be deeply suspicious and would relentlessly pester him once they’d hunted him down.
The classroom was empty when he arrived and he assumed Gwen and Morgana were tidying up after their last lesson. He set about making the tea and glanced through some of Morgana’s painting while he waited for the kettle to boil. She really was good and he’d told her before that he was amazed that she was working in a school and not working as a professional artist.
Most of the paintings were of students Morgana taught, or of scenes from her window, and there were even a couple of Gwen. One painting, though, which was tucked at the back and hidden behind the rest made his stomach churn and a cold sweat settle on the back of his neck.
It was him. Him and Arthur to be precise. In the water and about to kiss with Arthur’s hand resting gently on Merlin’s cheek, just as it had done that night before Christmas. Just looking at it brought all the memories crashing back and for a moment Merlin was actually sure he was either going to throw up or faint. Possibly both. At the same time.
He dimly heard Morgana and Gwen chattering as they came into the classroom but didn’t hear them greet him as he continued to stare at the painting, trying to ignore the twisting in his stomach.
“Are you alright Merlin?” Gwen asked at his shoulder.
He turned to stare at Morgana. “Were you watching us?” he asked quietly, his voice barely audible to his own ears.
“No, I would never…” Morgana seemed outraged.
“Did Arthur tell you…did he say anything…?” Merlin trailed off miserably as he looked back towards the painting. “I can’t believe he told you!”
He flushed angrily, and Gwen gave a small gasp and stepped back involuntarily.
“It’s not like that Merlin.” Morgana said.
“Merlin,” Gwen said softly as Merlin struggled with his temper and she put a hand on his arm gently. “I think it’s time we had a little chat about Morgana’s - gift.”
“Look at the date on the painting, Merlin.” Morgana said before Gwen could explain any further.
He glanced at her signature in the bottom left hand corner of the painting underneath was the date. It had been painted the day he and Arthur had gone to the pool.
“So?” Merlin replied. “Arthur came here after we went to the pool and you painted it.”
Morgana shook her head. “Merlin, I left not long after you came to say goodbye to Gwen. I haven’t spoken to Arthur since before that day I promise you.”
Merlin glanced back at the painting and then back at Morgana. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand it either,” she replied gently. “Sometimes I just paint things and later on they come true.”
“Are you a psychic or something?” Merlin asked incredulously
“I don’t know if it has a name.” Morgana said. “I don’t really like it to be honest. I never even remember painting them. It’s kind of creepy.”
Merlin forgot to be outraged and instead looked impressed. “That’s incredible.”
Morgana bestowed a large, relieved smile upon him. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m crazy.”
“So,” Gwen said resolutely, “tell us about Arthur.”
Merlin blushed. “I’d no idea the swimming pool was that big!” He said, avoiding the question implied in Gwen’s statement. “It’s very impressive.”
“Oh well that’s all Arthur’s doing.” Morgana said lightly. “I know I give him a hard time because, well, he is a prat, but he does work hard.”
“He does.” Agreed Gwen, “I think over the half the school’s budget comes from funding Arthur’s managed to wrangle because of the school’s sports success. He keeps us in paintbrushes at any rate.”
Merlin was uncomfortably reminded of Gaius’s almost throwaway comment during his first week that Arthur didn’t have an easy time at the school either.
“I didn’t know that,” he said softly, understanding at last why the exemption slip policy was in place. “He never said anything.”
“I don’t think he wants people to know how badly the school is doing outside the sports area,” Morgana said. “He thinks it’ll reflect badly on his father or something. He might be a prat but he’s got a strangely noble side at the same time.”
“Oh, God,” Merlin groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Arthur isn’t the prat. I am.”
Even though Gwen and Morgana loudly exclaimed that this wasn’t the case Merlin couldn’t accept what they were saying and shook his head whilst they spoke. “I ran away.” He confessed when they finally fell silent.
They looked at him curiously.
Merlin took a deep breath and spoke all in a rush, "Well I was drunk and we were...” he gestured towards the painting “and then I realised we were in school and his dad is my boss and what if the parents found out and…and…I thought he was straight!” His voice wavered alarmingly as he stopped.
“Calm down Merlin!” Gwen soothed, “Now, start again, slowly, from the beginning.”
***
When Merlin left the Art Department he knew that he had to see Arthur. He needed to apologise for all the things he’d said and thought about the man and possibly to admit his feelings for him.
He saw Arthur’s Ferrari still in the car park - hardly surprising as Arthur often worked late - and decided that he might as well get it over with at once.
Arthur wasn’t in his office so Merlin made his way towards the Sports Complex. He saw Arthur jogging slowly across one of the outdoor pitches. As he got a bit nearer he noticed that Arthur was smiling widely, more happily than Merlin had even seen before and he quickened his pace.
Then he saw someone else jog out onto the pitch and stopped when Arthur pulled the other man into a rough hug before punching him on the arm and laughing. The other man laughed with Arthur and clapped him on the back as the two of them headed back towards the car park. Even from the distance Merlin could see their eyes shining and how happy they both looked. Merlin didn’t recognise the other man but he was tall, handsome and athletic looking; a perfect match for Arthur.
He didn’t think twice about turning and hurrying away, even as a jealous spike hit him hard in the chest. He’d had his chance and he’d missed it. Arthur had quite clearly moved on.
***
Merlin somehow got through the next couple of days, even though his classroom window gave him a clear view of the sports pitches where, whenever he dared to look, he could see Arthur and his friend running about and clearly having a good time.
If Merlin cared to notice he would have seen how the majority of his pupils continued diligently with the work he set them, regardless of his own inattentiveness to their behaviour, and few took advantage of his evident distraction.
He was almost startled when the bell rang at the end of one lesson; his eyes were fixed firmly on Arthur and his new ‘friend’ who were demonstrating football manoeuvres to a Year Seven class outside. Merlin's jaw clenched as the other guy demonstrated some sort of tackle, which involved pressing close to Arthur's back as he extracted the ball with his feet. He could swear the guy had a smile on his face. He was only brought out of his daze when the sound of a throat being cleared snapped him out of it.
Mordred was standing on the other side of Merlin’s desk looking at him pointedly.
“Sorry, Mordred. What is it?”
“I know I’ve asked you this already, sir,” Mordred said. “But Mr. P has put me on the football team now. I can’t even play football but he says he needs me to make up the numbers. I’m sure if you talked to him he could find someone else to take my place.”
Merlin sighed. “Mordred, if Mr. P has put you on the football team it’s for a reason. It’s not going to do you any harm to play, I’m sure.”
“But sir…”
“No!” Merlin snapped. “We all have to do things we don’t like so you’ll just have to get used to it.”
The scowl Mordred shot him almost made Merlin shiver.
***
Two days later Merlin was in front of Mordred’s class again with the unenviable task of delivering the first of the school’s mandatory sex education lessons. He’d barely introduced the topic for the lesson; drawing several embarrassed giggles from the pupils when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that someone had raised their hand.
“Yes Mordred?” he asked resignedly.
"Have you even had sex, sir?” Mordred asked fixing Merlin with his unnerving stare.
There was a noticeable change in the atmosphere of the room. Merlin floundered, speechless.
“Are you gay sir?” Mordred continued provoking several shocked gasps from other pupils. “I’ve seen the way you look at Mr. P. Do you fancy him sir?” By now most of the pupils were staring in horror at Merlin as Mordred continued relentlessly. “Do you want him to tie you up sir? Do you want him to…?”
Somehow Merlin found his voice. “That is enough Mordred!” he said coldly. “You will come back here after school tomorrow for your detention.”
Mordred actually had the nerve to smile at him as Merlin focused his attention on the rest of the class and tried to quell his trembling.
When the bell rang for lunchtime he headed straight to Morgana’s classroom, which he now saw as a refuge. There, he related the incident to Morgana who, besides being his friend, had the dubious pleasure of being Mordred’s tutor.
“He actually said that to you?” Morgana asked in disbelief. “In front of the whole class?”
Merlin nodded his head glumly, knowing full well that the tales of what had been said would already be spreading through the school like wild fire. It was almost certainly only a matter of time before the news reached Arthur.
He wanted to curl up right there and then and die.
“It’ll be all right Merlin,” Gwen tried to assure him as she handed him a cup of tea. Unfortunately her tone didn’t quite match her words but Merlin was grateful for her attempt to soothe him.
Merlin drank his tea morosely and trudged back to his classroom, skirting the edge of the football pitch where Mordred and the rest of the Year Eight team were practising. Mordred was shivering near a sideline in his regulation sports uniform, barely looking up from the ground as the ball flew towards him and stopped a metre or so from his feet.
“Come on Mordred!” Arthur bellowed from the other end of the pitch. “I didn’t put you onto the team just so you could work on your tan.”
There were a few snickers from Mordred’s teammates as they took in his skinny pale form.
Then Mordred turned his eyes on Arthur and Merlin actually shuddered at the malevolence of the glare. He decided at that moment that perhaps being slightly intimidated by a thirteen-year-old boy wasn’t quite so crazy after all.
* * *
Merlin tried not to think about how he was missing out on his after school tea with Gwen and Morgana and instead had to spend the next forty-five minutes alone in a room with Mordred.
“I don’t think I need to remind you why you’re here,” Merlin said as Mordred quietly entered the room and took a seat at his desk. “Take out your notebook and write me an essay on what you did wrong and why it was wrong, followed by what you would do next time and why you are sorry.”
Mordred pulled out his paper and began to write slowly, a small smile curled on his lips, which made Merlin feel nervous. He glanced out of the window but quickly averted his gaze when he saw Arthur yelling instructions to some team outside. He wondered if the story of what Mordred had said to him had reached Arthur yet. He could just imagine Arthur laughing about it with some of the older students. Really, this was turning into the worst year of his life.
The forty-five minutes passed without any incident beyond Merlin trying to ignore the sound of Arthur’s voice coming from outside. He glanced at his watch and heaved a sigh of relief. It was over.
“All right, Mordred.” He said. “Hand me your essay and you can go.”
Mordred placed the essay on his desk, cheeks slightly flushed as he glowered, but he didn’t say a word as he packed up his things and left. Merlin really hoped the boy had learned his lesson.
Then he read the essay.
I asked Mr. Emrys rude questions in front of the class and made him upset. This was very wrong of me and I should have kept my mouth shut. Mr. Emrys is a pretty cool teacher even though he wouldn’t let me get out of PE and he doesn’t deserve to be made fun of even if he does like Mr. P.
I’m sorry I made Mr. Emrys angry so he had to give me detention but I’m not sorry I said those things because I had to so that I wouldn’t have to do PE. Mr. Emrys was the only one who could help me get away from Mr. P. I hate Mr. P and PE and football and all that stuff. Mr. P puts me in teams and makes me play even though I am not good at sport and then yells at me for being no good when it’s all his fault because all he does is ponce about in his shorts showing off to all the girls and tricking Mr. Emrys into liking him and not seeing that he is a big dickhead. I hope he drives his stupid poncy show-off car into a tree.
One day I’m going to show Mr. P why he should be sorry for making me look like an idiot in front of my class. Nobody likes that. That’s why I had to say those things to Mr. Emrys so he knows what it feels like.
Mr. P should watch his back because I am going to get him.
Merlin finished reading with his jaw dropped open. He had to do something, tell someone, anything…he was certain now that his distrust of Mordred was not just paranoia. The threat was evident. Mordred could be dangerous.
He took the essay and fled to Morgana’s classroom.
Gwen had just left but Morgana was there washing the teacups and looked startled when Merlin thrust the paper under her nose.
“Look!” he commanded. “I am not insane.”
Morgana read over the essay, her eyes widening when they got to the crude stick figures at the bottom.
“Well, he’s not going to win any awards for art,” she commented wryly.
“This is serious!” Merlin exclaimed. “We need to warn Arthur.”
Morgana shook her head. “Mordred’s only a little boy, Merlin. Yes, he’s angry but I really don’t think he’s going to do anything to Arthur. He’s just looking for some attention and it’s working.”
Merlin took a deep breath. Maybe there wasn’t as much to the threat as he thought. After all Morgana knew Mordred better than he did. She saw him every day instead of just once a week like he did.
“Alright,” he finally conceded. “Just…tell me if you draw anything involving Arthur, okay?”
Morgana nodded. “Okay.”
He felt better, or a little bit at least. There was still the niggling feeling at the back of his mind that there was more to this than Morgana thought. She hadn’t seen the way Mordred had been looking at Arthur out on the football pitch.
He headed back to his office to pick up his things and almost yelped when he saw Arthur pacing up and down at the end of the room.
“What the hell did you think you were doing pulling Mordred from football?” Arthur demanded, eyes blazing angrily. “We lost because we were a man down.”
Merlin hadn’t thought to check if Mordred had any after-school commitments, not that they should take precedence to detentions, but considering how Mordred had been constantly trying to get out of PE…Merlin realised suddenly that he’d been tricked and tricked very well.
Arthur was still glaring at him waiting for an answer. “Well?”
Merlin was puzzled. Surely Arthur would have heard by now. “I didn’t do it for fun.” He stammered eventually when he realised that there was no chance of escaping if he did not answer Arthur. “He was serving detention.”
Arthur scoffed. “Well I didn’t think the two of you were in here painting each other’s toenails.”
“I’m sorry Arthur. I didn’t mean for Mordred to miss the game but I couldn’t let what he said go unpunished.”
“What? Did he insult your girly scarves?”
Merlin blinked in astonishment. It sounded as if Arthur really didn’t know what Mordred had said to him and he didn’t know whether to be worried or relieved.
Arthur was still looking at him expectantly and Merlin realised that he couldn’t tell Arthur what Mordred had actually said. It was just too embarrassing.
“It doesn’t matter what he said,” Merlin replied.
“It matters to me,” Arthur replied. “I at least want to know that the little git said something worth missing the game for.”
“He did,” Merlin replied trying desperately not to blush under Arthur’s scrutinising look. “Can we just leave it at that?”
“No,” Arthur replied. “Tell me what he said.”
“God, you really are a pushy arse!” Merlin exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. He pushed past Arthur and grabbed his bag before stomping out of the classroom.
He really needed a drink.
***
He arrived at The Crown hoping that Morgana and Gwen would be there. It was a Friday after all. He saw Gwen through the window cosily seated on the small sofa.
He was about to push open the door to go and join her when her companion came back from the bar and he realised it wasn’t Morgana. It was Arthur’s tall, handsome, athletic friend. He sat on the sofa next to Gwen putting his arm around her and she immediately snuggled into his side, laughing.
Merlin lurched back from the door and walked quickly back towards the school, his mind whirring.
If he’d seen anyone other than Gwen…well he wouldn’t know what to think. But Gwen wasn’t the sort of person to canoodle with strangers in a pub and so she must at least know the man. More than that, she was probably seeing him. This presumably meant that Arthur’s friend was actually just a friend. Which mean that…which meant that he’d drastically misinterpreted Arthur. Again.
By the time he got back to his car he felt sick. He sat in the driver’s seat resting his forehead on the steering wheel for several minutes before he felt that he could safely start the car and drive home.
When he pulled up in front of his house he couldn’t remember anything about the drive.
* * *
It didn’t help that when he was in town on Saturday morning he bumped into Gwen in Tesco and she wasn’t alone.
“Merlin, this is Lance.” Gwen said cheerily as she all but shoved Arthur’s friend forward. “He’s a professional footballer and he’s just got back from touring. He went to school with Arthur.”
Merlin tried to put a friendly smile in place even though he felt sick. It just got worse and worse.
“Nice to meet you,” Lance said as he shook Merlin’s hand. “Gwen’s told me a lot about you.”
“Not everything,” Gwen hurriedly added when Merlin shot her a frantic look.
“I know Arthur thinks very highly of you as well,” Lance continued which did nothing to make Merlin feel any better. “He talks about you a lot.”
Now Merlin just wanted to curl up into a ball and die.
“Do you want to grab a coffee with us?” Gwen asked, totally oblivious to Merlin’s inner turmoil.
“I’ve got lots of marking to do.” Merlin said pathetically.
Gwen stopped making cow eyes at Lance and regarded him shrewdly, no longer unaware of Merlin’s poorly hidden distress. “Lance, go and find me some chocolate.” She commanded.
Lance disappeared into the next aisle and Gwen turned back to Merlin with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that drinking several bottles of wine and burying myself in my back garden won’t solve.” Merlin said glumly.
“Is this something to do with Arthur?” Gwen asked.
Merlin was saved from answering by Lance’s reappearance. He muttered something inaudible and ran away as fast as he could, leaving his trolley behind.
It was only when Merlin got home that he realised he’d left Tesco without any wine, or any food for matter, which somewhat foiled his plan to get drunk and bury himself. Instead he had to actually do the marking he’d told Gwen about and try not to think about the fact that Arthur was alone this weekend and not wrapped up in Lance’s arms like Merlin had imagined.
* * *
Monday came, and just seeing Arthur’s car in the car park made him feel faintly ill, especially when he remembered Mordred’s drawing of the tree. He swallowed down the uneasy feelings that fluttered in his stomach and headed to his first lesson.
Luckily he didn’t have to teach Mordred that day which made things slightly more bearable; and he’d had plenty of practice at blocking out the sound of Arthur’s voice drifting from the sports pitches. The morning was almost pleasant and Merlin found himself absorbed in the debate his class was having. It was only when the shrill sound of Arthur’s whistle pierced his consciousness that he remembered everything and the heavy sensation in his stomach returned.
He didn’t join Gwen and Morgana for tea at break, knowing that he’d face an inquisition later on because of it. He hoped by then he’d have worked out something to say. Or he’d have found a secret stash of gin somewhere and would be well on his way to not caring anyway.
He didn’t join them at lunchtime either, instead choosing to sit on a small patch of grass with a clear view of the front of the school and Arthur’s car. It was a small gesture but somehow keeping watch over the Ferrari made him like he was doing something productive even if he wasn’t sure what he felt about anyone anymore.
Everything appeared to be going well until Merlin headed back inside after lunch. That was when he saw Arthur talking to Mordred.
“I want to see you in my office at three o clock,” Arthur told Mordred loud enough for anyone close by to hear.
Merlin’s heart sank as he hurried the rest of the way to his classroom. If Arthur hadn’t known about the nature of Merlin’s detention before now, he certainly would after discussing it with Mordred.
It was official. His life was over.
As he explained to his Year Seven class about the different beliefs surrounding creationism he tried not to look at the clock, which was creeping closer and closer to three. What he hadn’t expected was Morgana to burst into his lesson, eyes wild and afraid.
“Mr Emrys,” She said with a barely concealed shriek. “Can I see you outside for a moment?”
Merlin felt his heart sink as he ordered his class to read a chapter of their textbooks while he stepped outside.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the classroom.
Morgana simply handed him a sheaf of paper. “I just drew this.”
Merlin almost snatched the paper out of her hands. He glanced at it and then looked at his watch. Quarter to three. “Keep an eye on my class.” He called over his shoulder as he began to sprint across the field. He knew she had a free period and would cover for him. He still had time…
He burst into Arthur’s office without knocking.
It was empty. He approached the desk, planning to wait until either Arthur or Mordred appeared.
And then he saw him.
Arthur was crumpled on the floor at the far end of the room, the shattered remains of his chair underneath him and his arm bent at a horribly unnatural angle. It was as though time had stopped for a moment and Merlin’s body was stuck, unable to move as he took in the scene before him.
With a shuddering breath he came back to himself and charged forward, kneeling down at Arthur’s side and brushing a hand over Arthur’s bruised cheek.
“Arthur? Oh, God! Arthur wake up. Please!”
There was no response, not even a hint that Arthur was aware of Merlin’s presence.
He’s dead, Merlin thought to himself. Oh God, Arthur is dead.
He could feel himself swiftly descending into a full on panic attack when he thought to check for a pulse.
It was faint, but he found one.
“Oh thank God!” Merlin cried. Then he shouted, “Somebody help me please!”
Arthur stirred slightly. “Merlin?” he asked groggily, his eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Yes!” Merlin said, louder than he meant to in his relief. “Yes Arthur, it’s me.”
“What happened?” Arthur said dazedly, “My arm hurts.”
Merlin leant over, chewing his lip in consideration. He tentatively placed a hand on Arthur’s clearly broken arm. “It’s ok, Arthur.” He whispered. “You’re safe with me.”
Arthur winced and passed out again.
A moment later Gwen burst in, clamping her hand over her mouth as she spotted Merlin and Arthur on the floor
“Call an ambulance,” Merlin said and Gwen didn’t hesitate.
“You’ll be all right,” Merlin promised as he stroked his hand through Arthur’s hair. “You have to be all right.” But Arthur said nothing, and Merlin could feel tears stinging his eyes. He continued to whisper meaningless soothing noises to Arthur until the ambulance arrived.
As the paramedics loaded Arthur carefully into the back of the ambulance a small group began to gather. Merlin saw Mordred watching Arthur carefully from the front of the crowd. Their eyes met and Mordred’s mouth curled in a tight smirk.
Merlin felt a chill in the air and when he looked again Mordred was gone.
***
He didn’t know how long he’d spent at Arthur’s bedside in the hospital, holding his hand tightly whilst his brain replayed Mordred’s smirk over and over again. It seemed hours since Uther had left Arthur's side to bellow at Doctors and Police and other assorted personages who had kept asking to speak to him.
“Merlin?” Arthur croaked.
Merlin dropped Arthur’s hand, startled. “You’re awake!”
Arthur smiled. “Will I still be able to play football?”
Merlin gave him an incredulous look. “You broke your arm, you prat, not your leg.”
“Oh. Why doesn’t it hurt?”
Merlin gestured at the IV attached to the back of Arthur’s hand. “I think they’re giving you some pretty strong drugs.”
Arthur grinned at him. “Feels nice.”
“Can you remember what happened?”
Arthur’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall.
“I fell off my chair,” he finally said.
“Well, I know that.” Merlin replied. “How did it happen?”
“I was just standing on it to hang up a league chart.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not that heavy!” Arthur retorted, seeing the look on Merlin’s face.
“Was anyone else with you?” Merlin asked carefully. He didn’t want to put ideas in Arthur’s head but he needed confirmation that Mordred had been involved before he could inform the police.
“No,” Arthur replied. “I had a meeting with Mordred but it happened while I was waiting for him to arrive.”
Merlin’s heart sank as he realised that there was no proof that this had been anything more than an unfortunate accident. It wasn’t as though they could submit Mordred’s essay and drawings as evidence. Even Morgana had dismissed it and she knew the boy.
Of course it was possible that this was just an accident and Mordred was simply pleased that Arthur had got his comeuppance without him even having to lift a finger.
“I can hear you thinking from here.” Arthur said.
Merlin smiled but his eyes remained hard.
Arthur frowned and brushed his hand against Merlin’s, tangling their fingers together. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
Merlin stared at his fingers entwined with Arthur’s and didn’t say anything. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and then the door opened to admit Uther. He tried to pull his fingers away but Arthur tightened his hold.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Uther said. He turned to Merlin with a slight inclination of his head. “Thank you Merlin. You may leave us now. I need to talk to my son.”
“I want him to stay.” Arthur said before Merlin could think of a response.
“It’s ok.” Merlin said. “I’ll just wait outside.”
“Don’t go far,” Arthur said as he let go of Merlin’s hand.
“I won’t,” Merlin replied gently and quickly slipped out of the door. Gwen, Morgana and Lance practically pounced on him in the corridor.
“How is he?” Lance asked, brows furrowed in concern, “I came as soon as I heard.”
“I think he’s going to be okay,” Merlin replied. “He’s on some pretty strong drugs at the moment though. I’m not sure he’s really aware of what he’s saying and doing.”
“Why?” Morgana asked. “What did he say?”
Merlin blushed as he recalled Arthur’s insistence that he stay and the way he clung to his hand.
“Well, he says he fell off his chair while he was hanging up a poster.” Merlin replied.
Gwen shook her head. “The police have established that Arthur’s chair had been tampered with.”
Merlin felt like he was going to throw up. He glanced at Morgana and she nodded slowly in understanding. “We can’t prove it.”
“You’ll have to find him.” Morgana said. “I think he’ll listen to you.”
Gwen and Lance were darting looks between the two, puzzled at their cryptic conversation.
“Find who?” Lance asked.
Uther came out into the corridor looking irritated. “Oh, you are still here.” He said to Merlin. “He wants to see you.”
Merlin looked apologetically at the others. “I’ll tell him you’re here.” He promised.
Arthur smiled brightly as Merlin entered and shut the door behind him.
“You stayed.” He said.
“Of course.” Merlin replied, retaking his seat at Arthur’s side. “Lance and Morgana and Gwen are all waiting to see you too.”
“I don’t want to see them yet.” Arthur said defiantly, reaching out and taking Merlin’s hand in a surprisingly strong grip for someone so heavily drugged. “I want to see you.”
Merlin didn’t argue, and stayed until Arthur drifted off into a medicated sleep. He wasn’t aware that he could feel so protective of someone, especially someone he had spent so much of this year claiming to hate. Just thinking about that now made him feel sick with guilt. He’d been lucky. Arthur had survived and Merlin had the chance to make it up to him. It could have easily ended so much worse than this.
He pulled the blankets up over Arthur and brushed a hand through Arthur’s hair. His eyes burned darkly as resolve settled upon him.
“I’m not going to let him hurt you again,” he swore and stormed out of the room.
“Keep an eye on him,” he snapped more harshly than he’d intended to Gwen without even pausing in his stride.
He’d find Mordred if he had to search all day and all night for him.
***
Merlin spent most of the night driving around aimlessly, futilely scanning the streets and the parks for Mordred. Eventually he began thinking more logically instead of emotionally and realised that Mordred must have parents who were unlikely to let their thirteen year old son skulk the streets at two o clock in the morning, however manipulative and potentially dangerous he might be.
Visiting hours were long-finished at the hospital; and, despite his best pleadings, Merlin was refused entrance so he drove reluctantly back to his house and fell into an exhausted sleep on the bed without even taking off his shoes.
The next morning he had no choice but to go to work. He pulled in next to Arthur’s gleaming Ferrari abandoned in the car park and hurried to his classroom.
He set up the room for his first lesson almost on autopilot, barely registering what he was doing and eventually sank into the chair at his desk and put his head into his hands.
He glanced up and his eyes narrowed as he spotted Mordred leaning casually against the doorframe, watching him with those chilling blue eyes.
“I know what you did,” he told Mordred, his voice trembling with rage. “I might not be able to prove it but I know.”
He was amazed when all Mordred did was shrug.
“I didn’t mean for him to get hurt like that,” Mordred said. “I just wanted him to sit down and embarrass himself the way he embarrassed me.”
“You need to tell someone what you did,” Merlin insisted, barely containing the urge to throttle the boy on the spot. “Arthur could have been killed!”
Mordred simply shrugged again and Merlin saw red.
“You’re evil,” he gasped in horror. “You’re actually evil.”
Mordred smiled menacingly and took a step backwards out of Merlin’s classroom, unable to move any further as he collided with Uther. Merlin leapt up from his desk, knocking over his chair.
“Mr. Pendragon.” He said, wondering how much of the conversation the Headmaster had heard.
Uther nodded grimly at Merlin and then fixed his steely eyes on Mordred who immediately transformed from a sinister young man to a little lost boy, staring with large, frightened, puppy dog eyes.
“I think it’s time I called your parents in boy.” Uther said coldly and Merlin realised that whatever he’d overheard had been enough.
Mordred’s face twisted “You’ll never prove anything.” He spat spitefully.
“Regardless,” Uther said, “Your recent behaviour is unacceptable. I will not have pupils like you in my school.”
Merlin gripped the edge of his desk tightly, wondering how Mordred would respond, but all the boy did was shrug and walk meekly out of the room.
“I’ll have someone else take your lessons today,” Uther threw over his shoulder as he led Mordred away. “My son needs you.”
Merlin never moved so fast in his life.
* * *
“Ow!” Arthur complained as Merlin helped him into the car. “Careful, you clumsy oaf.”
“Sorry,” Merlin apologised immediately and then frowned when he saw Arthur was grinning at him. “Do you want to walk home, you prat?”
“It’s nice to see my injuries aren’t awarding me any special treatment,” Arthur replied. Merlin just grumbled under his breath and fastened Arthur’s seatbelt before hopping into the driver’s seat. He was still disappointed that his offer to drive Arthur home in the Ferrari had been hurriedly declined.
“Nobody drives my baby but me.”
Merlin had rolled his eyes and shoehorned Arthur into his own vehicle.
Arthur was, unsurprisingly, not a very good passenger and kept up a running commentary almost all the way back to his house. “Turn left at the end of this road. You’ll need to change down now Merlin. There’s a bus up ahead. Mind the old lady…”
“She’s in her garden!”
“She might walk out.” Arthur said defensively.
“Through the hedge?” Merlin asked, quirking his eyebrow.
“Shut up Merlin.” Arthur said. “Left here.”
Merlin pulled up outside Arthur’s house and promptly stalled the car. Arthur refrained from commenting making Merlin look at him suspiciously. He helped Arthur out of the car and into the house, leading him straight to the stairs. “Where’s your room?” he asked.
Arthur smirked.
“Oh, stop that,” Merlin grumbled, even though he couldn’t help but grin. “The doctor said you had to rest.”
Arthur muttered something under his breath about doctors not knowing everything but guided Merlin to his room anyway. He was surprisingly quiet while Merlin helped take off his shoes but drew the line when Merlin started to tuck him in.
“I’m not a total invalid,” he protested.
“Just humour me,” Merlin replied, not even pausing in his ministrations. Once Arthur was bundled up in bed Merlin stepped back to check that he was comfortable. Arthur’s hand shot out and hooked around his wrist.
“Where are you going?”
“I just have to pop back to the school,” Merlin said, patting Arthur’s hand gently. “I won’t be long and you’ve got my mobile number.”
Arthur pouted and pointed at his arm. “You have to kiss it better before you go.”
Merlin smiled and pressed a kiss in the crook of Arthur’s elbow.
Arthur’s pout, if it was possible, got worse. “That’s not what I meant.”
By now Merlin was grinning and he dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips
“That’s better.” Arthur closed his eyes and was asleep before Merlin left the room.
***
“Hi,” said Merlin as he strolled into Morgana’s classroom whilst she and Gwen were drinking tea.
“Merlin!” Morgana greeted him warmly. “How’s Arthur?”
“I just took him home.” Merlin said.
“You’re not staying with him?” Gwen asked.
Merlin frowned, suddenly worried. Had he been wise to leave Arthur alone? He didn’t think Arthur’s injuries were going to cause him any further problems but he did still have a slightly uneasy feeling that the situation with Mordred was far from over.
“You haven’t had any more…visions have you?” he ventured.
“Er…no…” Morgana said unconvincingly and Gwen giggled.
Merlin frowned again but he knew that neither Morgana nor Gwen would laugh if Arthur was in danger. Nonetheless, he decided that perhaps he’d better go back and sit with him. “We’ll catch up another time. I’ve got to go.”
He hurried from the classroom paying no attention to Morgana and Gwen as they uncovered Morgana’s latest painting and dissolved into giggles.
* * *
“How’s your arm?” Merlin asked as he absently traced the swirls of hair on Arthur's chest with gentle fingers.
Arthur snorted, “I can’t believe you’re talking about that now.”
“What? I’m not allowed to worry about you just because we had amazing sex?” Merlin asked.
Arthur grinned. “It was pretty spectacular, wasn’t it?”
Merlin stretched luxuriously and curled a little closer into Arthur’s enticing warmth. “Just think,” he said lightly, “If you hadn’t been such a prat we could have done this ages ago.”
“Me?” Arthur snorted again. “You’re the one who burst into my office and started yelling at me like some sort of lunatic.”
“Yeah, well if you hadn’t pulled half my students out of my lessons then I wouldn’t have had to.”
“That would have been a shame.” Arthur said, “I rather liked it.”
“You like being shouted at?” Merlin asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.
Arthur shrugged. “You kind of turn me on when you’re angry.”
Merlin blinked at him and then laughed softly. "You are so weird.”
“And when you’re laughing,” Arthur said, stilling Merlin’s dancing fingers with a firm hand. “And probably all the times in between. I’ve liked you ever since that first day.”
Merlin blushed. “You could have said something.”
“Come on, you hated me back then.” Arthur said, pulling Merlin’s hand up to his lips and kissing his fingers.
“Hate is a strong word,” Merlin replied, humming contentedly.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t spend your time cursing me and secretly wishing all sorts of painful things would happen to me.” Arthur laughed.
“Don’t,” Merlin winced with a pained glance at Arthur’s plastered arm.
“Hey,” Arthur hushed, his face falling serious. “It’s all right, Merlin. I’m fine. And this is not your fault, ok.”
“I know,” Merlin said softly. “It’s just...”
“Just nothing.”
“Can’t I just…”
“No.” said Arthur firmly. “Now stop talking and come here.”
Merlin gave a little sigh, but happily shuffled even closer, burying his face into the dampened, cooling skin of Arthur’s neck.
Arthur reached over with his good arm and stroked his hand through Merlin’s hair.
“Isn’t it enough that we’re here now?”
Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur's shoulder. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“We are going to be very busy making up for lost time.” Arthur said solemnly, “If you think you can bear it.”
“Oh, I think I’ll manage,” Merlin grinned.
“Good.” Said Arthur. Then, after a pause he added, “It’ll have to be kissed better, you know.”
“Your arm, again?”
“Well, you can start there.”
Endnote: Mordred was referred to a psychiatrist after his parents uncovered more of his attempts at art.
