Fic: Enough to Feel Your Breath on Mine (2/4)

[seravia]

Title: Enough to Feel Your Breath on Mine
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Merlin/Freya
Length: 39k total
Summary: Merlin and Arthur wake up in the middle of a board meeting in the twenty-first century when they were in Camelot just moments before. Now they’re lost in a world they don’t understand, where Merlin is the son of the company owner and Arthur is the employee. Merlin’s lost his magic, Arthur doesn’t know how to not be a king, but somehow the world keeps turning.
Author's Notes: Written for paperlegends Takes place mid season 4. Time travel from canon to modern day and back.

Previous part | Masterpost

A booming laugh rang through the office before Merlin’s door swung open. Merlin jumped up at the noise then immediately collapsed back into his seat upon seeing the man that walked through the door.

“Merlin!” the man called, grinning, sweeping forward to clasp Merlin’s shoulder.

“F-father,” Merlin stammered, too shocked to do any more than stare up at the man who had died in his arms.

When Balinor looked away, Merlin followed his gaze to find Arthur staring back at him, face slack with shock.

“Arthur, how are you?” Balinor asked warmly, holding out his hand for Arthur to shake.

Arthur stared at the proffered hand blankly, and Merlin could read the bewilderment in his eyes. Haltingly, Arthur took Balinor’s hand, giving it a weak shake. “Good, sir. How are you?”

“Good, good. Glad to see you and my son are still getting on well, all hidden away in Merlin’s office,” Balinor replied, eyes twinkling mischievously at the pair of them.

Merlin and Arthur could only nod mutely, neither certain of how to respond. While Balinor was speaking to Arthur, Merlin took the opportunity to get a better look at his father. Gone was the matted hair and unruly beard from years of living in a cave. In its place was short, slicked back hair and a close cropped beard and mustache. Gone was the bulky, well-worn coat, and in its place was a tailored three piece suit, a dragon embroidered on the breast. The most noticeable difference, however, was the warmth in his gaze and the laugh lines around his eyes, a sharp contrast to the sharp, hunted gaze that followed your movements in Camelot. In fact, if Merlin hadn’t been expecting his father to look the way he did, he likely wouldn’t have recognized the man himself.

“How is the Kilgharrah contract coming, son?” Balinor asked Merlin, gaze turning expectant and serious.

“Fine,” Merlin said, still reeling from seeing his father in the flesh again.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Balinor declared, smiling at his son proudly. “All our competitors bemoan their children’s rebellions, and I get to just sit back and let my son’s achievements speak for themselves.”

“Thank you, Father,” Merlin whispered, terrified he was going to start crying if Balinor kept smiling at him like that.

Balinor glanced around at the piles of papers on Merlin’s desk. “I can see you’ve got plenty of work to do. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t forget about Sunday lunch. William has been chewing my ear off about getting you to drop your work for a couple hours for weeks.”

“William?” Merlin asked, hardly daring to believe his ears.

“Been buried in work too long, eh?” Balinor teased. “William. Your best friend from when you were kids. Ringing any bells?”

Merlin nodded, pressing his lips together tightly to keep from bursting into tears.

Balinor seemed to completely misinterpret the change in Merlin’s face since he leaned forward and patted Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on Will, Merlin. He just misses you. He likes working for my Ealdor branch, but if he had the choice, you know he’d rather be here getting under your skin.”

“I know,” Merlin whispered, fighting to keep his voice from breaking.

“As long as you understand,” Balinor replied, straightening and looking at his watch. “I’ll see you on Sunday then, Merlin. No excuses this time.”

“Don’t worry, Father. I’ll be there,” Merlin vowed, knowing his father had no way of knowing just how much he meant it. Balinor shot Merlin one last smile before leaving, closing the door behind him gently.

Merlin stared at the door for a couple of uncomprehending seconds, then sagged back in his chair. He would’ve slid right off the leather if Arthur hadn’t sprung up and caught him before he could hit the floor. Arthur helped him to get a steadier seat, then peered into Merlin’s face, worried and incredulous at once.

“Merlin. God, what just happened?” Arthur whispered frantically.

“I just met my father,” Merlin gasped, feeling lightheaded, just managing to leave out the word, “again.”

“He’s…” Arthur struggled for words for a moment, finally settling on, “affectionate.”

Merlin nodded, turning to stare at the closed door again. “I didn’t expect that,” he murmured.

Arthur smiled ruefully. “No, I’m sure you didn’t. How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Merlin said at once, letting his head loll back. “I didn’t think he would be proud of me.”

“No,” Arthur said quietly, leaning away from Merlin, a faraway look in his eyes. “I suppose you didn’t.”

“And he wants me to go for Sunday lunch!” Merlin exclaimed. Then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I guess the ‘me’ of this time makes a lot of excuses?”

“I think the ‘you’ of any time makes a lot of excuses,” Arthur said dryly.

Merlin aimed a weak kick at Arthur, barely managing to graze his ankle. “Arthur,” Merlin protested. “You know what I mean.”

“It does seem that way,” Arthur agreed, looking down at his feet.

“Well that ‘me’ clearly doesn’t know what he’s taking for granted,” Merlin said, looking a little dazed.

“It’s hard to see what you really have until you’ve lost it,” Arthur said.

“When did you become wise?” Merlin quipped.

“I’ve always been wise, you idiot,” Arthur declared, puffing up his chest, but quickly deflating, a sad look on his face.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked, sitting up properly to get a good look at Arthur’s face.

“Fine,” Arthur said stiffly.

“No, you’re obviously not fine. What’s wrong? Do you not like my father?” Merlin asked, heart sinking.

“No, Merlin, your father is… wonderful,” Arthur sighed.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing, all right?” Arthur insisted.

Merlin studied Arthur’s deliberately blank face for a moment, then smiled sympathetically. “Do you miss your father?”

“Something like that,” Arthur murmured, refusing to meet Merlin’s eyes.

Merlin knew better than to push, having gotten a halfway decent answer. He nodded slowly, then pushed at Arthur’s knee. “Come on,” Merlin said softly. “My father was right. We do have work to do.”

--

When Arthur came out of the shower, he found Merlin curled up on the sofa, nose buried in a thick book. From the looks of it, he was nearly done reading it.

Puzzled, Arthur asked, “What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Merlin responded distractedly. After a beat, he looked up and shot Arthur a smile. “Just catching up on some reading.”

Arthur gestured incredulously at the tome. “That’s what you call ‘catching up’? I’ve never seen you read so much before.”

“That’s because Geoffrey hoarded his books and those books were boring. All about battle strategies or poetry. No practical stuff,” Merlin said, wrinkling his nose.

“I should think battle strategies are very practical,” Arthur shot back, huffing in irritation.

“To you, maybe. To me, they made little sense,” Merlin said with a shrug, turning back to his book.

“So, this,” Arthur tilted his head and squinted at the cover of Merlin’s book, “Marketing: The Core is practical, is it?”

“It’s for work,” Merlin explained, licking his finger and flipping a page. “I want to be good at my job, Arthur,” Merlin said softly. “For my father’s sake. And for Freya’s sake. And… for the sake of whoever we’re supposed to be.”

“Since when have you been so determined to work?”

Merlin studied the ground consideringly. “Since we got here I guess. In Camelot, I had… responsibilities,” Merlin said slowly. “But they were all to you, and I did what I thought was important. Few people that I truly knew of relied on me, you being the most important one, obviously.” Merlin gave Arthur a small smile, and Arthur felt a little mollified. “But here, I know everyone’s faces. I see what they expect from me. I know what will happen if I don’t deliver. And I just can’t let that many people down. Seeing their faces… it makes it real.”

Merlin looked at Arthur uncertainly, brightening when Arthur gave a short nod of reluctant admiration.

“Besides,” Merlin said, immediately reverting to his usual cheekiness, “I’ve always been a quick study. This can’t be that hard to pick up.”

Arthur snorted. Different times, same Merlin. He flopped down on the sofa beside Merlin, not bothering to protest when Merlin pushed his toes under Arthur’s thighs. Arthur reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, leaning back contentedly when Downton Abbey filled the screen.

Merlin glanced at the screen and shook his head, an amused smile on his face. After a bit, he peeked up at Arthur tentatively.

“Have you thought about doing some reading for your job?”

Arthur startled and dropped the remote, glaring at Merlin as he bent over to pick it up. “No. I haven’t.”

“Why not?” Merlin asked curiously. “Don’t you want to get better at it?”

Merlin could feel the tension in Arthur’s body when he responded. “I’m doing just fine,” he said shortly.

Merlin hesitated before speaking again. “You’re going to need to do better to keep your job,” Merlin said as gently as he could.

“Well, you decide that, don’t you,” Arthur said stiffly, pointedly turning away from Merlin to focus on the TV. With a sigh, Merlin turned back to his book.

The next day, as Merlin was settling in with his cup of coffee (a wonderful invention that would’ve made his mornings much easier in Camelot), Arthur barged in, a teetering stack of papers in his arms and a petulant look on his face. As the door shut behind him, Arthur stared at Merlin expectantly. Merlin stared back, calmly taking a sip of his coffee and slowly raised an eyebrow. Merlin didn’t budge even as Arthur’s stare turned more and more into a glare. When Merlin took a third sip of his coffee, Arthur finally gave an irritated huff and marched forward, dropping his papers on Merlin’s desk with a dull thud.

“Well? Are you going to help me or not?” Arthur demanded.

“I don’t recall being asked for help,” Merlin teased, smirking at Arthur.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You know what I’m asking, Merlin.”

“Do I?” Merlin said, nonchalantly blowing on his coffee while failing to hide a grin.

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed. “What am I supposed to do with these?” Arthur made a wild, desperate gesture at the papers.

Merlin gave in, knowing that was the closest he was going to get to a plea for help. “Okay, okay, come around to this side of the desk,” Merlin said, pulling the stack of papers toward him to leaf through them.

“Why can’t you do this yourself?” Arthur grumbled. “It’s all for you anyway.”

“Why couldn’t you polish your own boots?” Merlin shot back, not bothering to look up at Arthur, grinning to himself when the spluttering started.

“Okay, most of this is fairly easy. A lot of it is data entry, which means all you have to do is type it into the computer systematically. As for the rest… they’re some people that I need you to call back. You can take a couple just to practice, but I’ll give most of it to Freya. No pressure, okay?” Merlin offered Arthur a comforting smile.

“What was that about needing to keep my job then?” Arthur asked, avoiding Merlin’s gaze.

Merlin’s eyes softened. “I’m not really going to fire you, Arthur. But you’ve got to give me a better reason than you have been to keep you on. If my father finds out, it won’t matter how much I want to keep you if you can’t do your job.”

Arthur nodded reluctantly. “Here,” Merlin said, handing Arthur a small stack of the papers. “I’ll give the numbers and messages to Freya and I’ll do some of this data entry myself. I know you’re still having trouble with typing.”

Arthur nodded and muttered a grudging “thanks,” taking his handful of papers and turning to leave.

“Arthur?” Merlin called. Arthur gave him a questioning glance. “If you’re having trouble, just come back, okay?”

Arthur flushed, knowing he was likely to need help again at the rate he was going, and just nodded, quickly escaping Merlin’s office.

Not ten minutes later, Arthur was back, gruffly asking Merlin how to sort the information. Merlin smiled sympathetically, resisting the urge to tease, knowing how angry Arthur must be with himself to be back so soon.

“Why don’t you grab your laptop and come in here? I’ll help you,” Merlin suggested.

Reluctantly, Arthur nodded, retrieving his laptop and the papers, settling himself beside Merlin at the desk.

The work proceeded to move much more smoothly with Merlin and Arthur in the same room, Arthur embarrassedly muttering a question once in a while and Merlin gently telling him how to do it right. They began to make a habit of this way of doing their work, usually spending half the day in Merlin’s office, working in the same space, much as they did in Camelot. It was a kind of comfort, offering a bit of consistency from Camelot to modern day. Arthur thought nothing of it until he finally decided to venture to the employee break room on break instead of staying in Merlin’s office, throwing jibes at him for fun.

Just as Arthur was about to enter the break room, he heard his and Merlin’s names coming from the room, accompanied by a round of giggling. He paused, wary of what the girls were talking about.

“Do those two even spend time apart?” Arthur heard one of the girls say. Arthur struggled to place the voice, but he spent so much time avoiding other employees that he hardly knew faces, much less voices.

“Arthur doesn’t spend all his time in Merlin’s office. I usually see him at his desk for part of the day,” the other girl said.

“Well sure, they try to keep up pretenses. But come on, they spend half the day locked up in Merlin’s office. Then they go home together. And every time they leave the office, one of them always looks disheveled.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I disagree, cuz they’re definitely fucking, but they wouldn’t bring it into the office, would they?”

Arthur suddenly felt his knees give way at the word “fucking”. He caught himself by stumbling against the wall, thankfully not hitting it loudly enough for the girls to hear. When his head stopped spinning, he tuned back into the conversation, again completely thrown off by the fact that the girls had moved from the subject of “fucking” to “I wish I could be like them.”

“They’re so sweet. What I wouldn’t give to be in Arthur’s place.”

“At Merlin’s desk or in his bed?” one of the girls teased.

“In his bed, of course!” the other girl squealed, dissolving into further giggles.

When the giggling abated, Arthur felt the tone of the conversation shift, turning serious. “But really, Merlin or no Merlin, what I wouldn’t give to be looked at like that,” she said wistfully.

“Yeah,” the other girl sighed. The break room was silent after that, and Arthur was only able to make his legs move again after he heard the girls’ footsteps fading away. Arthur made a wobbly sprint to the bathroom, locking himself in a stall and leaning against it heavily, staring up at the ceiling.

It wasn’t as if he’d never thought of Merlin that way. It was impossible not to have, with the man dressing and undressing him every day for years. But thinking and doing were two very different things. And him fucking Merlin? Or - Arthur gulped - Merlin fucking him? Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wipe away the images now seared behind his eyelids. He wasn’t supposed to like the idea.

And Merlin. Should he tell Merlin? Oh god, and the girls wanted to be in Merlin’s bed. Was the entire office in love with him? Arthur paused his previous train of thought, considering everyone’s attitudes toward Merlin. After some thinking, he concluded that, yes, it was quite clear that there were a disproportionate number of people in love with Merlin in this office. Arthur absently rubbed at his chest, feeling a tiny pang go through him.

He couldn’t tell Merlin yet. Arthur had to sort through all this for himself before he could tell anyone.

--

“Arthur, will you be okay tomorrow?” Merlin asked, looking up from the textbook he was engrossed in.

“I’ll be fine. What do you mean?” Arthur asked, mystified.

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur. “I mean I’m going to visit my father tomorrow. I won’t be home most of the day. Will you be all right on your own?”

It was Arthur’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, Merlin, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Arthur said with exaggerated patience.

Merlin didn’t seem convinced. “You know you’re welcome to come with me if you’d prefer that,” Merlin persisted.

“I promise I’ll be just fine, Merlin. It’s your first time properly spending time with your father. I’m not going to get in the way of that. Besides, you’ll be seeing William again, won’t you?” Arthur asked gently.

Merlin brightened at the mention of Will, making Arthur’s heart clench painfully in his chest. “Yeah. I can’t wait,” Merlin replied, shooting Arthur an excited grin. “But still,” he continued more softly. “You won’t be in the way. I promise.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, turning toward Merlin and looking him in the eye. “Listen to me. I will be fine here on my own. You go and spend some time with your father and with William. I assure you I will still be in one piece when you return.”

“If you’re sure,” Merlin said skeptically.

“I’ve been keeping myself alive for over twenty years, Merlin. I can do it for another day.”

--

The next morning, just before Merlin was out the door, he paused in front of Arthur where he was watching TV.

“Arthur, are you sure you wouldn’t rather come with me?”

“Merlin, for the last time, I am very sure. Go on!” Arthur exclaimed, flapping his hands at Merlin to shoo him out the door.

“All right, all right. Just trying to help,” Merlin grumbled good-naturedly, sending Arthur a bright smile before disappearing out the door.

On the train ride over to Ealdor, Merlin sat biting his nails and worrying about how he would be received. It was a long ride.

Finally, Merlin gave in and pulled out his phone, texting Arthur, what if they don’t like me?

Moments later, Merlin’s phone vibrated with an incoming text. Don’t be an idiot. Of course they’ll like you. They obviously like you already.

Biting his lip nervously, Merlin texted back, But it’s not me they like, is it?

His phone buzzed again. Merlin. They’ll love you. Everyone loves you. Don’t be a clotpole. the text said. Merlin could practically hear the exasperation in the text, but he smiled anyway at the use of the word “clotpole.”

“Next stop: Ealdor,” came crackling over the loudspeakers.

Merlin tensed but forced himself to relax. He texted Arthur one last time. Ealdor’s the next stop. Thanks.

Just before getting off the train, Merlin’s phone buzzed again. The text simply said, Good luck.

Clutching the phone tightly, Merlin stepped off the train and found the car hired to take him to his family house. In the car, Merlin watched the scenery fly by, feeling a strange sense of familiarity.

When he stepped into his house, he had to stifle a gasp of awe. It was huge. Never once would he have dreamed that his family would have such a luxurious house. He knew his family was rich in this world, but this was insane compared to what he was used to in Camelot.

“Merlin, is that you?” came his father’s voice.

“Yes, father,” Merlin replied, voice catching slightly.

Moments later, Balinor emerged into the hallway Merlin was in, smiling warmly and wiping his hands on a dishcloth. “It’s good to finally have you in this house again, son,” Balinor said, tugging Merlin into a hug.

“It’s good to be back,” Merlin whispered, trying to hide the lump in his throat.

“Now, William will be here soon I expect. I never know when that boy is going to show up. I swear he might as well live here with how often he’s around.”

“Do you not like Will?” Merlin asked tentatively.

“Of course I do,” Balinor said with a laugh, ruffling Merlin’s hair as he went to tend to the stove. “You two have only been best friends since you were born. He just misses you. You’ve barely been around since you went to university and met that Arthur of yours. Nice, polite boy he is too.” Balinor winked at Merlin, leaving Merlin wondering if he missed something.

“I’m sorry, father,” Merlin said guiltily, silently fuming at the him of this time for being so ungrateful for what he had.

“Don’t be,” Balinor said. “You’re growing up. Getting ready to take over the company soon. Your mum would be so proud.”

At Balinor’s small, sad smile, Merlin swallowed past the lump in his throat, suddenly nervous as he asked, “Where is mum?”

Balinor looked at Merlin in surprise. His face softened when he said, “Gaius told me about your temporary memory loss. I guess I know what he meant now.”

Merlin could only nod mutely.

Balinor sighed. “I don’t fancy having to break this to you a second time. Your mother… she died when you were very young. It was a car accident.”

Merlin felt his whole world spinning. His mother was dead? He sat down heavily in the chair closest to him. For once, he thought he had his family back. But again, it was snatched away from him.

“Balinor?” came a voice from the front.

“In the kitchen, Will,” Balinor called back, patting Merlin on the shoulder gently before going to greet Will.

“Merlin!” Will exclaimed as he entered the kitchen.

Putting aside his grief, Merlin shook himself a little, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Dimly, he heard his father muttering to Will, and then Will’s sharp intake of breath. When he turned to face Will, it was to find a sympathetic expression on his face.

“Hey,” Will said softly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Merlin gave a small smile. “I know,” he said quietly. When Will held out his arms, Merlin hurried forward and wrapped Will in a hug, squeezing tightly, trying to convey all the things he never got a chance to say in his own world.

“Hey,” Will said soothingly, patting his back. “It’s good to see you too. Finally.”

Merlin laughed a little. “I’ve missed you too.”

Will snorted. “I doubt it. You’ve got your Arthur to keep you company. If you missed me, you would’ve come back sooner.”

Merlin flushed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I’ve been busy,” he said weakly.

“Right. Thank god for Skype, or I’d never see your face.”

“I promise I’ll visit more often,” Merlin protested.

“You always say that,” Will said, rolling his eyes.

“I will!” Merlin insisted.

“Okay, okay. I’ll believe you for now,” Will said, giving in. “How’ve you been? Has that Arthur bloke been treating you right?”

Merlin’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

“God, are you two still dancing around each other? How long will it take for the two of you to get your heads out of your arses? Or should I say get your heads into each other’s arses?” Will wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Will!” Merlin yelped, slapping Will on the arm and darting an embarrassed glance at his father. “It’s not like that with me and Arthur.”

“Sure, sure,” Will said, slinging an arm over Merlin’s shoulders. “Seriously. How have you been? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you in person.”

“Er, good,” Merlin said, at a loss for what to say given his situation.

“That’s all I get?” Will said, poking Merlin in the chest. “Just good? No details?”

“Er…”

“You’re lucky I get all the info from your dad. So I actually do know what’s going on in your life. Temporary memory loss, huh? How’s that doing?”

“It’s getting better,” Merlin said. “It’s getting easier to remember things.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have some mental condition.”

“Arthur would say I’ve always got some issues there,” Merlin said automatically.

That startled a laugh out of Will. “I’ve gotta meet this guy.”

“You could come up to visit,” Merlin said hopefully.

“Really?” Will asked, genuinely surprised. “You’d want that?”

“Of course,” Merlin insisted. “Whenever you want.”

“My next vacation,” Will said, grinning wildly. “I’ll be coming up to London to bug you.”

“Looking forward to it,” Merlin said eagerly.

“Lunch is ready, boys,” Balinor called.

“Thanks, dad,” Merlin said, getting all choked up again.

--

After lunch, Merlin stayed for several hours, chatting to his father and his childhood best friend. When it started getting late, Merlin got up to leave.

“I should be heading back,” Merlin said reluctantly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner, Merlin?” Balinor asked.

“Thanks, dad. But Arthur’s expecting me for dinner,” Merlin replied.

“All right,” Balinor said. “Bring him with you some time. He’s a nice boy. And you know William wants to meet him.”

“I will,” Merlin promised, hugging his father and Will tightly before waving and disappearing out the door to head for home.

When Merlin got home, he collapsed on the couch beside Arthur, staring up at the ceiling listlessly.

“How was the visit?” Arthur finally asked.

“Great,” Merlin replied. “My father was great. I was glad to see Will again.”

“But?”

Merlin laughed hollowly. “My mother died in a car accident when I was little.”

Merlin heard a sharp intake of breath from beside him. “God, Merlin. I’m sorry.”

“I probably should’ve expected it. What are the odds I would have the perfect family just because I jumped forward in time? You can’t have it all, right?”

“Of course you can,” Arthur said softly. “You have your father and Will, right? You have something.”

Immediately, Merlin felt awful when he remembered that Arthur didn’t have his mother or father in this world. “I’m sorry, Arthur,” Merlin whispered. “I… forgot about what you’ve lost.”

“It’s not really losing if you didn’t have it before, is it?” Arthur said.

“But you had your father once,” Merlin murmured.

“I did,” Arthur admitted. “But I lost him too. It’s nothing new really. But Hunith… she didn’t deserve that. And you certainly don’t.”

“Thanks,” Merlin just said, losing himself in thought again.

After several long moments of silence, Merlin asked, “Arthur? Do you ever wonder if we’ll get back?”

“All the time,” Arthur admitted quietly. “I’m afraid we won’t ever see Camelot again.”

“Me too,” Merlin whispered. “It’s so similar here. But so different at the same time.”

“Aside from the names, what’s similar here, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

“It… feels like we’re in the same place. Don’t you feel it?”

“No,” Arthur sighed. “I don’t feel it at all.”

Merlin dropped the subject.

--

“Merlin, have you got a minute?” Freya asked, poking her head into Merlin’s office.

“Always,” Merlin said, looking up at Freya with a sweet smile. “What is it?”

“Your father would like to throw a party for Dragon Corp in celebration of the contract we’ve just signed with them.”

“Great. When is it?”

“Next month, the fourteenth,” Freya replied, handing Merlin the guest list Balinor faxed over.

“What’s this for?” Merlin asked, scanning the list of names.

“It’s the guest list. Your father expects you to know them all.”

“There are over a hundred names on here!” Merlin yelped, looking at Freya incredulously.

“You can do it,” Freya said encouragingly. “Your father expects it of you every time these parties are thrown.”

“Every time?” Merlin squeaked.

“Yes…” Freya said slowly, frowning. “Don’t you remember?”

“Of course!” Merlin was quick to say. “It’s a daunting task, as usual.”

“Don’t worry, you always manage. Now, you can pick me up at 6. I’ll pick out a new tie for you that matches my dress, so all you have to worry about is those names and your speech, which I will write for you, as usual.” Freya made a few marks on her clipboard, looking up at Merlin expectantly, only to find Merlin staring back blankly.

“What?” Freya asked.

“I’m picking you up?” Merlin asked, feeling a bit slow.

Freya flushed. “Did you have someone you wanted to bring? I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. It’s just that we always go together and you hadn’t mentioned anyone else.”

Arthur’s face flashed through his mind, but he shook his head to clear it. “No, I’d be happy to go together. It just slipped my mind, is all.”

“Are you sure?” Freya asked, looking uncertain.

“Positive,” Merlin said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Good,” Freya replied, face relaxing into a smile. “Who would take care of you if I weren’t around?” she teased.

“Oi! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” Merlin protested.

Freya made a noncommittal noise. Merlin opened his mouth to defend his own capabilities, but before he could get another word out, Arthur barged in, laptop under his arm.

“Oh, sorry,” Arthur said gruffly. “I can come back.”

“No, stay,” Freya said, offering Arthur a small smile. “I was just leaving.”

“Yeah, after insulting me,” Merlin muttered under his breath.

Arthur perked up. “What did you say?” he asked Freya, grinning.

Freya stifled a laugh at Merlin’s outraged noise. “Nothing unusual. Just that he can’t take care of himself.”

“I bet he didn’t like that one bit.” Arthur laughed, smirking at Merlin.

“Not at all,” Freya agreed.

“’He’ is sitting right here,” Merlin grumbled. “And I am too capable of taking care of myself.”

“Merlin, you would jump off a bridge to save a drowning cat if you saw one,” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow at Merlin.

“So?”

“You can hardly swim,” Freya said.

“And you would probably drown,” Arthur added.

“But the cat would be fine,” Freya quipped. “You would make sure the cat was safe before drowning.”

Arthur and Freya looked at each other appraisingly, pleasantly surprised that their sense of humor was remarkably similar. Freya quirked a warm smile at Arthur, and Arthur smiled back hesitantly.

“If you two are quite done,” Merlin said dryly.

“We’ll stop teasing you,” Freya said with a laugh. “Don’t forget about the guest list. And I’ll have the tie sent to your flat.”

When Freya closed the door behind her, Arthur plopped down beside Merlin, asking, “What tie?”

“A tie for a party my father’s throwing for Dragon Corp,” Merlin replied. “Apparently Freya and I always go together and she picks out my clothing.”

Merlin heard a forced laugh from Arthur. “So you are incapable of taking care of yourself.” Merlin turned to Arthur with a frown, wondering about the odd look on Arthur’s face.

“I took care of you just fine for years, didn’t I?” Merlin sniffed.

Arthur’s face melted into a fond smile when he said quietly, “I didn’t say you couldn’t take care of other people. Just yourself.”

Merlin blushed, suddenly unable to bring himself to meet Arthur’s gaze.

“Have fun with Freya at the party,” Arthur said in the same soft tone.

“You’re invited too,” Merlin said, head snapping up, jabbing a finger in Arthur’s direction. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

“What?” Arthur yelped, eyes widening in horror.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at Arthur. “Be glad I’m not making you wear a hat.”

“You couldn’t,” Arthur said, looking scandalized. “How would that reflect on the company?”

“How did my hat reflect on Camelot?” Merlin exclaimed.

“It was the servant’s livery!” Arthur shot back.

“Then why was I the only one wearing it?”

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, glaring. “I am the king of Camelot and I don’t have to answer to the likes of you.”

“We’re back to that, are we?” Merlin said with a smirk, knowing he’d won.

“No, it’s simply the truth,” Arthur said, turning his nose up in what he thought was a noble fashion. Unfortunately, it only made Merlin dissolve into giggles. Arthur glared helplessly at Merlin, but Merlin just laughed harder.

--

The limo pulled up in front of Freya’s block of flats where she was standing just inside the door waiting. She hurried to the door and slid in beside Merlin in the backseat.

“You look lovely,” Merlin said when Freya was settled.

“Thank you,” Freya replied, offering Merlin a bright smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I love the tie,” she teased.

Merlin laughed. “It is quite a lovely tie,” he admitted.

“Hello, Freya,” Arthur said from the rear facing seats across from Merlin.

“Arthur,” Freya said, giving him a warm smile. “How are you?”

“Good,” Arthur replied. “A little disappointed I got roped into going to this party.”

“I know the feeling. Unfortunately I never have an excuse thanks to this one,” she said, poking Merlin’s shoulder.

“It comes with the job, I’m afraid,” Merlin said, heaving a put upon sigh. “You both signed up for it. Not to mention are getting paid for it.”

“All right, all right,” Freya conceded, patting Merlin’s arm. “We’ll stop complaining.”

Merlin just grinned.

--

Upon arriving at the party, Freya and Merlin were whisked away to network with the guests - practically all potential clients. With an apologetic look over his shoulder at Arthur, Merlin was swallowed by the crowd, leaving Arthur to stand around twiddling his thumbs.

Arthur watched for a while as Merlin made his way around the room, naturally charming all the guests just by being himself.

After a while, Arthur began to wander around, surreptitiously looking for familiar faces. When he spotted a small group of Camelot Marketing’s employees, he hurried over, joining the group including Leon, Gwaine, Lance, Morgana, and Gwen. Arthur took a deep breath before diving in, plastering a smile on his face.

“Hello,” he said, trying for the same kind of charm he used on visiting noblewomen.

“Hi,” Morgana said unenthusiastically before turning away to speak to the rest of the group.

“Hi, Arthur,” Gwen said warmly. “Did you lose Merlin and Freya?”

“Afraid so,” Arthur replied, slightly relieved that someone was speaking to him.

“It tends to happen at these functions,” Gwen said sympathetically. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Yes, please feel free to join us,” Lance chimed in, shooting Arthur a small, welcoming smile.

Arthur stuck with them for the rest of the night, feeling slightly less alone, but knowing he was still an outsider in this group of friends. As much as Gwen and Lance tried to include him, the rest of the group remained as unwelcoming as ever.

--

Merlin found himself making his way around the room surprisingly easily. Thus far, he’d been able to recall everyone from the long list of names he’d been given with Freya only stepping in once or twice to remind him of a last name. It seemed that the people he was meeting were all instantly charmed by him, making Merlin breathe a mental sigh of relief. He had been terrified that he would mess up the company by being as incompetent as Arthur tended to call him.

“Mr. Kilgharrah!” Merlin greeted, offering his hand to shake.

“Mr. Emrys,” Kilgharrah said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, Merlin’s fine,” Merlin was quick to correct. “My father is very pleased you’ve signed with Camelot Marketing. We won’t disappoint.”

“I should hope not,” Kilgharrah said gruffly. “I’m giving your company quite an important product to market.”

“We’ve put our very best team on it,” Merlin promised.

“Good,” Kilgharrah said, looking satisfied. “Now where is your father? I have yet to speak with him tonight.”

Merlin peered around the room. “By the buffet table. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Kilgharrah.”

“You as well.”

After Kilgharrah disappeared into the crowd, Merlin turned to Freya with wide eyes and whispered, “Thank god that went well. I was terrified I was going to mess up.”

“You’re always so worried, Merlin. You know you always charm everyone at these parties,” Freya reassured him. “There’s Bayard. Go talk to him about the pitch!”

--

"Merlin, are you coming?" Arthur asked, sticking his head into Merlin's office.

Merlin was practically sprawled over his desk, two seconds away from banging his head on the wood. He looked up at Arthur blearily, then put his head back down. "No," Merlin said, voice muffled by the papers under his face.

"Haven't figure out the Bayard presentation yet?" Arthur asked sympathetically.

"No," Merlin groaned. "I didn't like him in Camelot, and I still don't like him here. He's horrible to work with and he won't sign anything. I don't know how I'm going to pitch it to him tomorrow so he'll sign with us."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"It's fine. Go home. I've got Freya to help me."

Merlin heard a kind of choked off squawk come from Arthur. He lifted his head to see a funny look on Arthur's face. "What?"

"Nothing," Arthur said in a strangled tone. "Are you sure you don't need my help? You can send Freya home and let the woman get some sleep. She's gotten even less rest than you this past week."

Merlin considered it for a moment, but shook his head. "Freya knows the contract better. As bad as I feel for keeping her here, I do actually need her. One more night, right?" Merlin tried to crack a smile, knowing he failed at Arthur's wince.

"You look terrible. Try to get some sleep tonight," Arthur said, reaching over to squeeze Merlin's shoulder, hand lingering a few seconds longer than Merlin expected. Merlin gave a contented sigh at the contact, letting his eyes flutter closed. When he opened them again, the strange look was back on Arthur's face.

Before he had a chance to ask, Arthur spoke. "I'll be off then?"

"Yeah, go on," Merlin said wearily. "Send Freya in, won't you?"

“Sure,” Arthur said. “See you at home.” Moments after Arthur disappeared, Freya was at Merlin’s side with an armful of papers, rattling off facts about Bayard’s company and their product.

They spent most of the night locked in Merlin’s office, debating the merits of one pitch over another. By the time they were finished, it was four a.m. and both Merlin and Freya were half delirious with sleep deprivation. By this point, they were both sprawled on the floor, mostly on top of each other, papers covering the carpet.

“We’re done!” Merlin exclaimed giddily, grabbing a handful of papers and tossing them in the air, watching them flutter to the ground with avid interest.

It was a testament to how tired Freya was that she giggled instead of reprimanding Merlin for messing up their hard work. “Yes!” she cheered, throwing her arms around Merlin’s shoulders, their combined weight making them collapse to the floor, still giggling maniacally.

Freya propped herself up on her elbows, peering into Merlin’s face. “You look funny,” she commented.

“You look pretty funny too,” Merlin shot back, tucking a strand of hair behind Freya’s ear, giving her a fond smile.

The next thing they knew, Merlin and Freya were making out like teenagers, rolling around on the floor together, thoroughly wrinkling their papers, giggling madly all the while. The kissing came to an abrupt halt when Merlin’s head crashed into the side of his desk.

“Ow,” Merlin complained, rubbing the back of his head. Freya just giggled, patting Merlin’s arm consolingly. Merlin shot her a grin. Merlin blinked and the next time he opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming through his windows and Freya was fast asleep on his chest, head tucked under his chin.

“Oh god,” Merlin gasped, sitting up abruptly dislodging Freya from his chest, where she crashed to the ground with a disgruntled yelp.

“Merlin!” she exclaimed, irritated, when she saw Merlin sitting beside her. At once, they both froze, memories from the night before flooding back.

“Why don’t you… er… go home and change,” Freya suggested, face flushing red as a tomato. “I can sort all this out for you.”

“N-No, I should take care of this. I’ve kept you up all night,” Merlin said, then flushed darker at the implication in his words.

“I’m your PA, so do as I say,” Freya replied, already kneeling to gather the papers around them.

Unable to come up with a coherent response, Merlin fled.

--

At six in the morning, Merlin came back banging into his and Arthur’s flat. Hearing the racket, Arthur poked his head out from his own bedroom and watched as Merlin darted back and forth in the flat, running between his bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen as he changed into a more presentable suit, cleaned up, and made some toast. Staring at the whirlwind of activity, Arthur didn’t quite know how to ask what was going on. The few times he’d tried, Merlin just breezed past him into another room, not giving Arthur the chance to open his mouth.

Within half an hour, Merlin was out the door again, giving not even a glance in Arthur’s direction. Arthur was left at a loss and a bit hurt at not even being acknowledged. Merlin had been coming back late for the past week, but he always had time to shoot Arthur a smile at the very least before he disappeared into his bedroom to catch a few winks of sleep.

When Arthur got into the office, he listened to the sounds of Merlin and Freya bustling around in Merlin’s office, still going over the pitch to Bayard to advertise his newest high end gift idea of well packaged wine and wine glasses.

As soon as Arthur got the call that Bayard had arrived, he knocked on Merlin’s open door and said, “Bayard’s waiting in conference room A. Ready?”

Merlin and Freya both looked extremely flushed, but Arthur attributed it to their nerves and lack of sleep. They exchanged a quick glance and Freya nodded slightly, immediately gathering up papers while Merlin did a quick check on their powerpoint presentation before pulling out the flash drive.

Arthur just watched, feeling a bit useless, as Merlin and Freya efficiently packaged their materials into one folder and Freya smoothed out the wrinkles in Merlin’s suit, making him look presentable.

As they walked past, Arthur squeezed Merlin’s shoulder gently and said, “Good luck. You’ll be great.”

He received a grateful smile in return, the corners of Merlin’s eyes crinkling in a way that Arthur couldn’t help but find adorable.

--

“I can’t believe we did it,” Merlin gasped when he collapsed back in his desk chair in his office.

“I know!” Freya exclaimed. “We spent so much time preparing that pitch that if it crashed and burned, I think I would have to cry.”

“Forget crying,” Merlin scoffed. “I think I’d have to go jump off a cliff. That thing took over my life.”

“But it wasn’t all bad, was it?” Freya asked tentatively, not meeting Merlin’s gaze.

Hearing the different tone in her voice, Merlin blushed, remembering what had happened the night before. “No, it wasn’t all bad. Not at all,” Merlin admitted. “In fact, there are some parts I wouldn’t mind repeating.”

“Really?” Freya asked, darting a glance at Merlin then ducking her head quickly.

“Yeah,” Merlin replied softly. “Freya?”

“Yes?”

“Since we’re on the topic and all…” Merlin stammered. “Would you - sometime - whenever you’re free - want to - er - go out for a drink sometime?”

“I’d love to,” Freya said shyly.

Merlin swore his grin lit up the entire office.

--

Arthur was sitting at his desk, packing up his things when Merlin stepped out of his office, Freya right behind him. Arthur allowed himself a small smile, having decided that today would be the day he told Merlin about the rumors about them running rampant through the office. If Merlin took the news well, perhaps he wouldn’t be averse to Arthur’s newly discovered feelings for him.

Arthur stood beside his desk, briefcase in hand, waiting as patiently as he could for Merlin to come over so they could go home. Then Merlin did the last thing he expected.

He kissed Freya. It was a quick peck on the lips, but the affection was clear.

Arthur dropped his briefcase on his toe with a muffled “ow.” Merlin hurried over to him, taking Arthur by the shoulders, asking him worriedly if he was okay. All Arthur could concentrate on was the tiny furrow of concern between Merlin’s brows and the movement of Merlin’s lips, forming words Arthur couldn’t hear over the pounding in his head.

“-thur! Arthur!”

“What?” Arthur said blankly.

“Are you okay? You haven’t blinked for the past three minutes.” Merlin peered into Arthur’s face worriedly.

“Fine,” Arthur said mechanically, ignoring the grittiness in his eyes in favor of staring at the light smear of lip gloss on Merlin’s lips, expression souring.

Merlin gave him a skeptical look but didn’t ask further. He picked up Arthur’s briefcase for him and took his arm, pulling him toward the elevator. Just before they stepped in, Merlin turned and waved at Freya. Arthur looked away when Freya’s face melted into a besotted smile.

The moment the door to their flat was closed and locked, Merlin turned to Arthur, asking bluntly, “Is this about Freya?”

Arthur froze, unable to meet Merlin’s gaze. “What are you talking about?” Arthur croaked, suddenly terrified that Merlin knew his secret.

“Are you mad I didn’t tell you about her?”

“No,” Arthur said shortly. “I just… didn’t realize you two were quite that close.”

“It’s a bit complicated,” Merlin said tiredly, running his fingers through his hair.

“Isn’t everything with you,” Arthur said dryly.

Merlin shot Arthur a frustrated look. “Apparently she’s liked me for quite a while,” Merlin admitted.

“Following that logic, I should have kissed all the serving girls in Camelot.”

“Don’t be a prat. They’re not all in love with you,” Merlin automatically shot back.

“How would you know? Kissed some, have you?” Arthur said sourly.

“No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t. But that’s not the reason I like her,” Merlin said.

Arthur didn’t speak, just waited for Merlin to continue.

“Freya and I… we knew each other in Camelot.” That got Arthur’s attention. He swung around to stare at Merlin with wide eyes, taking in Merlin’s helpless look, and sat on the sofa, gesturing for Merlin to continue.

Merlin nodded gratefully and sat across from Arthur on the coffee table. “It’s a bit of a long story, but we met in Camelot when I helped her out of a rough spot. We’d only known each other for a few days, but I was - “ Merlin stuttered a bit at this point, “I was planning to leave Camelot with her,” he finished quietly.

Arthur didn’t look up, afraid of what Merlin would see in his eyes. “Why did you stay?” Arthur whispered.

“She died,” Merlin said, voice breaking.

“Oh.” Arthur’s heart sank. How could he compete with that? He took a couple of deep breaths before looking up at Merlin again. He offered Merlin a brittle smile, grateful he didn’t seem to see Arthur’s true emotions through his haze of bitter memories. “I’m glad you found her again.”

Merlin brightened immediately. “Thanks. So am I.”

“Well, I’m headed to bed. I’m exhausted,” Arthur declared, attempting to make his escape.

“Don’t you want dinner? We can get Indian! I know how much you love Chicken Tikka Masala,” Merlin called after him.

“I’m fine,” Arthur said wearily. “I’m just really tired, Merlin, all right?”

“Oh. Okay,” Merlin replied, sounding hurt. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Arthur sighed, not knowing how to and not really wanting at the moment to make Merlin feel better, despite the guilt clawing in his gut.

The next day at the office, Arthur found himself the subject of endless consoling glances. People who usually barely tolerated him came up to him that day, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically. With a sinking feeling, he realized they all thought that Merlin had tossed him aside in favor of the far gentler and kinder Freya. Every time he left his desk, upon his return, he would find cups of coffee waiting for him or little slips of paper with encouraging messages. The general consensus was clearly that Merlin was the best thing that would happen to Arthur and that while they still loved Merlin unconditionally, they felt bad for Arthur for having lost such a wonderful man.

Arthur didn’t join Merlin in his office that day. To Arthur’s dismay, it seemed as if Merlin didn’t even notice the difference. Freya was in and out of Merlin’s office, lingering longer than usual. Arthur stayed stiffly at his desk beside Merlin’s wide open door, listening to sounds of chattering and laughter coming from the couple. His heart clenched every time Merlin’s laughter rang out, wanting desperately to be the one to give him that happiness.

Now that Arthur could actually competently do his job, he had no excuse to barge into Merlin’s office and demand things of him. Merlin had never had any reservations on encroaching on Arthur’s privacy, but Arthur was too scared of what kind of scene he might find if he turned around to seriously consider going back to Merlin’s office. Logically, he knew that Merlin and Freya would stay professional while the door was open, but he knew how much Merlin could say in a single glance. He dreaded the day that Merlin’s office door would close with Merlin and Freya on one side and Arthur on the other, with no choice but to sit and hope he wouldn’t hear anything he didn’t want to.

But that day never came. Merlin’s office door never shut with only him and Freya inside, not like it had when Merlin and Arthur were working together in there. Merlin kept his public displays of affection to a quick kiss before leaving the office with Arthur at his side. Arthur knew Merlin and Freya went out for drinks or dinner sometimes, but Freya never stayed the night in their flat, and Merlin came home every night. It was puzzling to Arthur, but he was grateful all the same.

Merlin and Freya went out for drinks frequently, and to Arthur’s great surprise, they invited him to join them almost every time. He always wanted to ask Merlin why he basically had a standing invitation, but never screwed up the courage to do so, always afraid that if he asked, he wouldn’t be invited the next time. So he sat through all their pub visits, listening to Merlin and Freya flirt shyly with each other while still trying to include him in their conversation. It got to the point where Arthur began to get used to their strange dynamic, only jarred out of it when Merlin and Freya went out for dinner alone.

To Arthur, the only good thing that came out of Merlin and Freya’s relationship was the relationships he began to build with his co-workers. Thanks to everyone’s beliefs that Arthur and Merlin had been together in some way before Merlin and Freya got together, they started being kinder to Arthur, and Arthur made a conscious effort to talk to the people around the office more. Slowly, he formed some kind of camaraderie with the people he used to know in Camelot, chatting or getting lunch occasionally with Leon, Lance, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival. He still had a bit of a rocky relationship with Morgana, but the person Arthur got on the best with was Gwen.

It was strange. In Camelot, Arthur fancied himself in love with Gwen, but coming here none of that attraction surfaced. Instead, there was just this lingering warmth that made him comfortable with Gwen in a way that he wasn’t with any of his other co-workers. It was only thanks to Gwen that Arthur got through the six months of Merlin and Freya’s relationship.

When Arthur decided he wanted to learn to cook, it was Gwen who taught him, holding his hand through the entire process and making sure he wouldn’t set the kitchen on fire the moment he turned on the stove. In those six months without Merlin at his side day and night, Arthur surprised himself with how well he could manage in this world he still wasn’t quite used to. But it was getting easier knowing that he didn’t need to rely on Merlin for everything.

Then Merlin and Freya’s six month anniversary rolled around.

And Merlin didn’t come home that night.

--

“Hi,” Merlin said, swooping down to kiss Freya on the cheek as he presented her with a single red rose in a bouquet of lavender.

“Oh, Merlin,” Freya said, eyes shining. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“They reminded me of you,” Merlin said, eyes soft with affection.

Freya blushed and giggled in response.

“Come on,” Merlin declared. “I’m taking you somewhere fancy tonight.”

“Merlin, you shouldn’t have!” Freya said, eyes widening as she saw candlelight and luxurious décor in the restaurant.

“I wanted to. I’m allowed to spoil my girlfriend sometimes, aren’t I?” Merlin asked, eyes twinkling.

Freya just shook her head and smiled at Merlin brightly.

After dinner, Merlin took Freya’s hand and took her for a walk around the park.

“Dinner was lovely, Merlin,” Freya said, gazing at Merlin affectionately.

“I’m glad you liked it. I wanted everything to be perfect,” Merlin said softly.

“Ever the charmer, you,” Freya teased.

As they took a seat on a park bench, Freya looked up at the stars, murmuring, “It’s a lovely night. So clear and bright for this time of year.”

“Not nearly as lovely as you,” Merlin murmured.

“Are you trying to be a walking cliché tonight or something?” Freya asked, softening her words with a smile and a kiss. “The candle lit dinner, a walk in the park, and now your cheesy lines.”

“I can’t help it if they’re true,” Merlin replied cheekily.

Freya laughed. “I like it when you’re cheeky,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss Merlin.

Merlin met her half way. The kiss started out chaste, but quickly turned heated. When they pulled apart, Freya said breathlessly, “Come home with me.”

“What?” Merlin asked, not certain he heard her right.

“Come home with me,” Freya repeated, pressing a kiss close to Merlin’s ear, making his eyelids flutter. “Please?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” Merlin agreed, pressing more kisses to Freya’s lips, reveling in her happy laugh.

Quickly Merlin called the car around and told the driver to take them to Freya’s house. As Freya was cuddling up to him in the car, Merlin made sure to pull out his phone and send a quick text to Arthur not to expect him that night before turning his full attention to the woman in his arms.

--

Arthur’s phone buzzed. Arthur glanced at it in surprise when he saw Merlin’s name flash on the screen. He opened the text and his heart sank. Staying with Freya. Don’t wait up. ;)

Arthur promptly threw the phone across the room and buried his face in a pillow. Much later, when Arthur got up to collect his phone, he dialed Gwen’s number and spent the rest of the night whining to her on the phone about lost chances, idiot friends, and stupid expectations.

--

The next night, Arthur dragged Gwen to the pub with him with the sole intention of getting pissed. When things started getting out of hand, Gwen quietly slipped away to call Merlin.

“Merlin?” Gwen shouted into the phone receiver.

“Gwen?” Merlin asked, surprised. “Are you calling me from a pub?”

“Yes, yes, but never mind that. Look, I’m here with Arthur. Can you come get him? I don’t think I’ll be able to get him to leave before he passes out drunk.”

“I - of course. I’ll ask questions later,” Merlin agreed. “Where are you?”

“At The King’s Arms. Just… get here soon, okay?” Gwen said nervously, watching helplessly as women and men alike started draping themselves over Arthur in her absence.

“As soon as I can,” Merlin promised and hung up.

Gwen hurried back to Arthur as soon as her phone was put away. “Arthur!” she called. “Come on. Merlin’s coming soon. Don’t you want to see Merlin?”

“Who’s Merlin?” one of the guys purred. “Your boyfriend?”

“I wish,” Arthur grumbled, taking another swig of beer. “He’s an idiot. With those stupid ears and those fucking cheekbones and those gorgeous eyes, and - “ Another swig of beer.

“Why don’t you let me help you forget all about him,” the guy said, trying to drape himself more fully over Arthur’s back as his hands started to roam.

“I wish I could forget about him,” Arthur complained. “You get it, don’t you, Gwen?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, yes, of course I get it, Arthur. So listen to me and give me your beer.”

“Don’t listen to her, sweetheart,” the guy purred. “Come with me and we’ll have a lot more fun than you’re having here.”

Arthur was hardly hearing any of it, so focused on grumbling about Merlin that he barely even registered what was going on around him until Merlin’s voice cut through the noise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Merlin growled. “Get off him.”

“Whoa, are you Merlin?” the guy asked, untangling himself from Arthur and promptly sidling over to Merlin.

“I am,” Merlin said coldly.

“Well, hello there, gorgeous,” the guy purred, clinging to Merlin and trying to press himself against him.

Before Merlin could react, there came a growl from behind him as Arthur appeared and yanked him away from Merlin. “Stay away from him,” Arthur snapped.

“I got the message,” the guy exclaimed, holding his hands palms up in surrender. “I’m outta here.”

“Come on, Arthur. We’re leaving,” Merlin said curtly, taking Arthur’s arm with surprising gentleness and tugged him toward the door. Arthur followed obediently, looking at Merlin with a besotted look on his face.

Gwen trailed behind watching the entire exchange, shaking her head at how oblivious Merlin and Arthur both were.

On the car ride home, Merlin dropped Gwen off at her flat first before driving back to his and Arthur’s. Arthur fell asleep the moment he got in the car, so Merlin could safely mutter to himself in peace.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Merlin muttered under his breath. Why did he ever think he could forget about his feelings for Arthur? Seeing that guy all over Arthur made something snap within Merlin. He’d never felt a surge of jealousy that powerful before, despite the number of times he’d seen men hitting on Freya. Merlin had hoped what he had with Freya would be enough. He almost convinced himself it was. It was enough for him to want to leave Camelot once upon a time. But it wasn’t enough anymore. And he was fool to try and tell himself that it was. He had to choose between the two people in his heart. Merlin glanced at Arthur’s sleeping form sprawled on the seat beside him and felt a smile creep across his face involuntarily. Merlin sighed. At the end of the day, it really was no choice at all.

Next part