Merther Fic part 2
His tea was going cold and the scones sat on the table untouched. A chilly breeze fluttered the leaves on the trees above the small patio overlooking the canal, and Arthur glanced at Morgana across from him.
A part of Arthur wondered why he even agreed to these meetings with Morgana. She always said it was good to keep in touch, and every couple months, they would end up meeting for a morning cup of tea to discuss the mundane aspects of their lives.
Arthur’s mind wasn’t focused this morning, though. He had to be at the park in an hour to meet Elena and the photographer.
“How’s Elena?” Morgana asked, raising her cup to her lips and taking a small sip.
“Fine,” Arthur replied automatically.
“I was talking to her at the party,” she went on, setting down her glass with the clink of china. “She says the bridesmaid dresses are to be purple.”
“Hmm.”
Arthur didn’t care about the colour of bridesmaid dresses, and he doubted very much whether Elena did either.
“I look horrid in purple.”
“Hmm? Oh,” Arthur said, forcing himself to focus on what she was saying.
Morgana eyed him for a moment and then leaned back in her seat. Realistically, it was a bit too chilly to be sitting outside, but being inside just made Arthur feel claustrophobic lately. The sun, at least, was trying to poke through the layer of clouds.
“You seemed to enjoy yourself at the party.”
“It was alright.”
“And that magician,” she went on.
“Merlin?”
Morgana’s smile widened. “Yes. He was a quite good, wouldn’t you agree?”
Something in her expression stopped Arthur from agreeing, and he shrugged instead, grabbing his cup of cold tea.
“He was alright.”
It had been three days since he had seen Merlin, though he had programmed his number into his mobile already and stopped himself from sending a text message at least five times so far.
He wasn’t exactly sure how this “just mates” thing was supposed to work, but it probably involved them spending time together, time in which they didn’t end up in bed.
“I thought he was rather cute,” Morgana commented, and Arthur found himself wondering where Cenred was, as he always seemed to wonder when he saw Morgana. They rarely appeared anywhere together and he always seemed to be away on business when Arthur came round.
“I suppose.” He downed what was left in his cup, grimacing at the taste of cold tea, and then stood from his chair. “I should really get going. I must meet Elena.”
Morgana crossed her legs and gazed up at him. “Tell Elena I say hello, and let Uther know I’ll be dropping by the office this week for a chat.”
Arthur nodded, not giving much thought to why. “I’ll see you later.” He bent down and kissed her cheek.
Grabbing his jacket, he pulled it on and left the cafe.
The park was halfway across town, so Arthur hailed a taxi and slipped inside, glad to be alone.
He never quite understood why Morgana stuck around after the big blow-up with Uther before University. She had moved out, yes, but she hadn’t gone far.
Pulling out his mobile, he checked the time. He would be early to the park and then it might take hours to get this engagement shoot done with. At least it was Saturday which meant he didn’t have to be at the office for once.
Scrolling through his phone, he paused over Merlin’s name. So far he’d resisted the urge to text or phone him, but as he sat in traffic, stalled at a red light, he couldn’t resist anymore.
He opened up a text message.
It’s Arthur. What are you doing tonight?
He didn’t know if Merlin would get the message or not, but he sat with the mobile clutched in his hands until it vibrated a few minutes later.
Meeting some friends at the pub. Want to come with?
Arthur hesitated, but the light turned green and the car lurched forward. He would blame that for his fingers typing in, Sure.
Great. I’ll text the details later.
Tucking away his phone, Arthur leaned back in the seat. He smiled as he thought of Merlin, and suddenly the photo session didn’t seem like such a horrible thing to have to deal with today.
*
The weather only worsened as the day went on, the tiny rays of sun vanishing behind grey clouds and an intermittent drizzle of rain dripped through the trees.
“After this, can we get ice cream?” Elena asked, separating a curl while they waited for the photographer to hastily clean his rain-splotched lens.
“Ice cream?” Arthur repeated, shivering at the thought. “It’s freezing.”
Elena shrugged, and Arthur paused, gazing at her for a long moment.
Since they’d been introduced - at a business function in which Uther had basically announced to Arthur that he would be meeting his future wife - they hadn’t had a real conversation that Arthur could recall. The most he knew about Elena was that her father was the president of a competitive technology firm. Elena herself, she could have been anyone, anyone who enjoyed sweets and brightly-colored clothing as evidenced by her daisy-yellow dress she had on.
“Elena, can I ask you something?”
Elena looked up at him, blinking her large, blue eyes in response.
“How do you feel about this wedding?”
A part of him prayed she thought it was a terrible idea as well, but when she scrunched her nose up and smiled, he knew his hope was unfounded.
“I did think October was a strange choice, but I think you’re right. A fall wedding will be much more appropriate.”
Arthur’s heart sank and he said nothing in return, instead watching the photographer struggle with the batteries in his camera now.
“My father says it’s a great match.”
Arthur hummed instead of answering. Exactly what Uther said.
“What do you like to do?” he asked instead. Maybe they had something in common, anything.
“Lots of things. Horseback riding, baking, sometimes. I’m not very good at it. When I was little, my nanny tried to teach me how to sew, but I’m still rubbish at any kind of crafts.”
“Do you like to read? Go to the theater? Go to pubs?” He was fishing now, but there had to be something they shared an interest in. To his plummeting disappointment, she shook her head at every suggestion.
“Pubs are too noisy for me,” she said, leaning back against a tree trunk. “And I’ve always found books boring. I’d rather watch the film.”
“What about hobbies? Do you study anything in particular?”
To his surprise, Elena snorted as she laughed. “I was a bit of a dunce in school. My teachers always said I had my head in the clouds.”
“Got it!” the cameraman shouted abruptly, and not a moment too soon, Arthur thought. He couldn’t wait to get this over with so he could get out of there. After all, he had Merlin to look forward to.
*
Arthur changed his shirt too many times before finally heading to the pub. The drizzle had increased to a full-on deluge of rain as he ducked inside the door to a pub he’d never visited before, but he didn’t often have chances to go to pubs these days, not since University.
His heart battered almost nervously as he surveyed the dimly-lit room, tables filled with chatting friends, laughter in one corner, and the combined clunks of glasses on heavy wooden tables.
It took a minute, but he spotted Merlin sitting at a table in the back, talking to a few other people he didn’t recognize. Weaving his way over, he didn’t have to say anything as Merlin looked up, his face lighting up in a smile that made Arthur’s heart stutter stupidly over itself.
“Arthur!” he greeted him cheerfully.
They clearly hadn’t been there long since no one had a drink yet. Merlin gestured for Arthur to sit down in the empty seat next to him, but as Arthur rounded the table, he recognized the woman across from Merlin.
“Gwen!” he said, surprised, and she stared at him for half a second.
“Sir,” she said quickly, shooting a look at Merlin. “Hello.”
“Hello,” Arthur replied, unsure what to do. He took the seat Merlin had gestured at slowly, placing his hands on the table and feeling the awkwardness fill the atmosphere. The other man at the table, with brown hair and brown eyes, quite plain but still handsome, glanced between everyone.
“I’m Lance,” he said finally, holding out a hand to shake Arthur’s.
“Oh, yes,” Gwen said, jerking back to herself. “Lance, this is my boss, Arthur Pendragon.” The tips of her ears went pink, and Arthur stopped himself from laughing at her embarrassment.
“I am not your boss, Gwen. Tonight, I am just Arthur.”
Gwen didn’t look convinced but she nodded. “Okay… Lance, why don’t we get some drinks?”
They left him and Merlin at the table, and Arthur watched Gwen whispering to Lance as they crossed to the bar.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered.
Merlin stretched out his legs beneath the table. “Why? Because Gwen is your secretary?”
“Assistant,” Arthur corrected him.
“Or because you’d rather it was just me and you?”
Arthur looked up at Merlin, and Merlin grinned back at him.
“I’m just taking the piss. Relax. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” He kicked Arthur’s foot under the table. “I’m glad you came.”
Despite himself, Arthur relaxed. It was just something about Merlin that made him forget all the stresses of his day.
“What are you going to tell Gwen?” he asked, glancing over to where Gwen and Lance were talking as they waited for their drinks.
“About what?”
Arthur didn’t get the chance to reply as Gwen and Lance returned, setting down four glasses on the table.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked to drink,” Gwen said, passing over a pint.
“You didn’t have to-”
“It’s fine.” She sat down, glancing between him and Merlin for a moment. “So, why are you here exactly?”
“Oh, well…”
“I invited him,” Merlin piped up, much to Arthur’s relief, although when he thought about what Merlin might say, his stomach twisted uncomfortably.
“You did?”
“When we met at your office the other day, I said a prat like him would never be caught dead in a pub with the likes of us.”
“Merlin!” Gwen admonished him with a hasty glance towards Arthur, but Arthur felt only relief and a hint of amusement.
“He proved me wrong, though, didn’t he?” Merlin asked, hiding his grin behind his pint as he took a sip.
Gwen said nothing, wringing her hands together as though sure she would get fired.
Arthur smiled. “Well, I couldn’t let a shoddy academic beat me.”
Merlin tipped his mug to him, and Gwen looked confused, but she seemed to decide not to press the subject.
“Merlin, what were you saying about your professor?”
“She thinks I need more concrete research for my thesis.”
“What does that mean?” Lance asked, brushing his hand against Gwen’s as he reached for his mug, and Arthur swore that they both blushed. A perfect couple.
“Just means I need to do a bit more digging. I’ll probably be buried in books for months.”
“What’s your thesis on?” Arthur asked curiously. He hadn’t had to bother with that in business school, instead learning facts and figures and struggling through economics.
“It’s an in-depth study on the lingering effects of William the first’s invasion in the tribes of Britain that led up to the feudal era and the eventual creation of knights.”
“Wow.” Arthur had never had any interest in medieval history. In school, he had slept through most of history class, in fact, but when Merlin said it, it sounded a thousand times more interesting. “Do you read Old English then?”
Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. “Not very well.”
“He’s just modest,” Gwen added. “He can read Beowulf in its original form.”
“Only because I have it memorized,” Merlin muttered, taking a drink.
“Did you see the film they made a few years ago?”
“It was a terrible,” Merlin said, making a face. “I can’t stand films based on books. They always ruin something.”
Arthur found himself smiling at Merlin’s answer.
“What?” Merlin asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and Merlin laughed after a second, grabbing his mug.
“Prat.”
Arthur looked away when he realized Gwen was watching him closely, and took a swig of his drink, avoiding her gaze.
*
“That’s not it at all, Merlin,” Gwen said, tapping the side of her half-empty mug, eyebrows furrowed. “If the Romans hadn’t come at all, we never would have had the wars between the Saxons and English would still be spoken. Rome would have just expanded somewhere else.”
“No, Gwen,” Merlin replied, shaking his head. Arthur found himself gazing at the expanse of pale skin on Merlin’s neck instead of truly listening. “The English language would never have evolved in the way it has if that happened.”
“Strange, isn’t it?” Lance asked, leaning over towards Arthur.
Arthur jerked, caught staring, but he tried to cover it. “What is?”
Lance nodded at Merlin and Gwen, who both looked stubbornly set in their argument. “Arguing over things that happened hundreds of years ago.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He supposed he ought to pay a bit more attention to what they were saying and less to what he would like to do to Merlin. They were just friends now.
Still, he couldn’t get the image of Merlin naked beneath him out of his mind. He couldn’t get the noises he had made out of his head. He wanted to hear them again.
“I suppose you’d rather be speaking Latin?” Merlin asked, draining the rest of his beer.
“Don’t be so smart,” Gwen admonished him. “It’s unattractive.”
“I’m not trying to impress anyone here,” Merlin pointed out, glancing at Arthur for a second. “If I was trying to do that, I’d just make this table disappear.”
Gwen shook her head, smiling fondly at him. “You’re hopeless. I don’t know how you’re ever going to find someone.”
“I’m not worried.” Merlin grinned.
Arthur wondered if that was aimed at him, but he didn’t get the chance to think too much as his mobile went off in his pocket.
Pulling it out, he tried not to grimace at his father’s name flashing on the screen.
“Excuse me, I have to take this,” he said, standing from the table and weaving his way through the crowded pub.
“Hello, Father,” he answered once out of earshot of Merlin.
“Arthur, good. I-Where are you?”
Arthur glanced around at the tables filled with talking and laughing people. He moved towards the door quickly.
“I just went out for some dinner.”
Uther made a short noise. “Monday morning, we need to have a talk about the merger. I want to see all your research so we can go over it and start making plans for the company restructuring.”
“Of course.”
“This isn’t a petty hiring of a few people, Arthur,” Uther reminded him. “This is a multi-million pound deal we have to make work for the company.”
“Yes, I know.”
Arthur glanced across the pub to Merlin’s table, watching him and Gwen laugh at something. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been out with mates that didn’t involve some kind of company function or family obligation. He simply didn’t have time.
“I expect to see you bright and early on Monday, Arthur.”
“Yes, Father,” he agreed, hanging up the phone slowly.
He returned to the table at length, taking his seat, and Merlin glanced up with a smile.
“Your fiancée?”
“My father,” he replied, grabbing his mug and taking a drink. He didn’t need to be reminded that Merlin knew all about Elena and that she was the reason he was sitting here discussing the evolution of the English language instead of fucking Merlin’s perfect hips into a mattress.
Gwen was giving him a sympathetic glance that he didn’t want to read too much into, so he ignored it, pushing the phone call from his mind.
“So, Gwen, what do you do when you’re not working?”
In two years of having Gwen as an assistant, he didn’t think he had ever asked that question.
Gwen looked surprised. “Well, I volunteer at a children’s home on the weekends.”
“That’s how we met,” Lance added. “She needed a book to read to the kids and I volunteer at the library down the street.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Sickeningly sweet,” Merlin said, his head propped up on his hands, and he grinned as Gwen shot him a look. “And when’s the wedding, mates?”
Arthur wasn’t imagining it this time as Gwen’s cheeks went red and even Lance smiled nervously, a faint tinge of pink on the back of his neck.
Merlin leaned over to Arthur and muttered in his ear. “I do it for the reaction.”
“You’re awful.”
Merlin laughed. “I know.”
With Merlin that close, Arthur had a sudden urge to kiss him, but he stopped himself, leaning away instead.
Gwen composed herself first, brushing back a curl. “I also enjoy reading, especially if the weather’s nice, I like to go to the park.”
“Who doesn’t in London?” Arthur asked. The weather rarely cleared up except in the summertime, and then the parks were usually full of tourists.
“Merlin, for one.”
Arthur stared at Merlin. “You don’t like the outdoors?”
“I’m a pasty Englishman,” Merlin pointed out, gesturing at his body. “I do better indoors.”
“I should take you shooting sometime.”
“Shooting? No.” Merlin shook his head. “I don’t shoot things.”
“My father has acres and acres of land we could shoot on. It’s beautiful. I’m sure you’d love it.”
“No, I-just, no,” Merlin repeated, a smile on his face despite his words. “I’m not the sort.”
“What sort is that?”
“Oh, you know,” Merlin replied slyly. “The sort that chases around animals with a gun.”
“Don’t worry, that little rabbit from your hat is safe.”
“His name is Clyde.”
Arthur grinned. “Tell Clyde he’s safe.”
“I will.” Merlin glanced at his empty mug. “I think I need another. Anyone else?”
Lance nodded but Gwen shook her head.
“I’ll help,” Arthur offered, following Merlin from the table.
At the bar, Merlin ordered two more and leaned against the counter facing Arthur.
“So is the mate thing going well?”
“Seems to be going alright.”
Merlin smiled, plucking at Arthur’s jacket sleeve. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Gwen about what happened. I know she works for you. Not that she’d tell anyone. She’s the most trustworthy person I know.”
“I appreciate that.”
Arthur wasn’t sure what to say, and all he wanted to do was smooth down the piece of Merlin’s hair sticking up behind his ear, but he kept his hands to himself. Mates didn’t do things like that.
His eyes rested on Merlin’s for a beat too long, though, and he pulled his gaze away, clearing his throat.
“So what’s the betting on how long until they’re married?”
“Years, I’m sure,” Merlin replied with a vague wave of his hand.
“Why so long?”
“Because it’ll take that long for Lance to get up the courage to ask her. It took him nearly a year to ask her out on a date.”
“You didn’t help at all?”
Merlin leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve found that when I try to meddle in other people’s love lives, it always backfires spectacularly.” He moved back. “So I’m just letting them take their time.”
“Probably a good idea.”
The bartender came back with the pints and Merlin grabbed them both. “Shall we go see how much they can blush?”
Arthur laughed. “You are truly terrible.”
Merlin only grinned and led the way.
*
“In addition to the twenty employees we’ll be adding from Godwyn’s company, we’ll have to downsize our own tech department by about five people,” Arthur said, laying out the papers on Uther’s desk. “We have the option to let them go or to possibly redistribute them to another part of the company.”
“Let them go,” Uther said without a second thought, and Arthur hesitated.
“Father, most of them have been with the company for many years.”
“I appreciate loyalty as much as the next man,” Uther said, shuffling the papers into a pile. “But sacrifices need to be made in order to make this merger work. After all, once it’s said and done, we will have a stronger, more superior company.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Have a talk with Leon about which to let go then bring your choices to me.”
Arthur gathered up his report and slipped it into the folder. As he stood, he remembered.
“Morgana said she would be stopping by this week.”
“Very well. Has she talked to Elena about entertainment for the wedding? She said she could recommend a musical group for the ceremony.”
“Not yet,” Arthur replied, feeling his mobile vibrate in his pocket.
“You should be more involved in planning this wedding,” Uther warned him. “You can’t be a spectator in your own life, Arthur.”
“Yes, Father,” he agreed, “I’ll get back to you on mine and Leon’s decision.”
Uther merely hummed as Arthur left and shut the office door behind him.
Pulling out his mobile, he read the text there.
I think Beowulf is overrated.
Arthur caught himself smiling at Merlin’s text as he walked down the hall.
You’re the one who has it memorized.
I meant that it only shows one side of the story. Grendel wasn’t a monster.
Except that he WAS a monster, Arthur texted back.
He was just protecting what he loved, doing what he was born to do.
Arthur paused at that. Does that mean Beowulf is the monster?
Maybe there is no monster.
What is the point of this rambling?
I was just thinking of how handsome Beowulf was and you came to mind.
Arthur laughed out loud but quickly caught himself as he passed a woman coming the opposite direction. She gave him a curious look but kept on walking.
Shameless flirt.
The truth is the truth.
Shaking his head to himself, Arthur tried to hide his smile as he entered his office and saw Gwen behind her desk.
“Morning, Gwen,” he greeted her, and her head snapped up.
“Hello, sir. There’s a fresh pot of tea in the break room if you’d like me to get you some. Also, Elena called. The wedding planner wants to plan a day to look at venues.”
“Fantastic,” he muttered. “Call her back and schedule a day.”
“And the tea?”
“Gwen.” He smiled slightly. “You’re far too good to me.”
“I know,” she only replied, rising from her seat and heading to the break room.
In his office, Arthur took out his mobile again.
Should I give Gwen a raise?
Merlin’s response was quick, and Arthur wondered where he was. Probably in a library or taking a break from some children’s party, restocking his never-ending supply of lollies.
Probably, if she has to put up with you all the time.
Hilarious.
You’re welcome.
Gwen poked her head in, a cup of steaming tea in her hand.
“Here you go,” she said, setting it down on his desk. “A dash of milk and sugar. Just the way you like it.”
He took it, pausing a second. “Gwen, about the other day at the pub. I hope that wasn’t inappropriate, showing up like that.”
Gwen smiled. “You’re Merlin’s friend. It’s good he makes some new ones. I’ll let you get to work.”
She shut the door behind her and Arthur set his phone aside. Merlin would have to wait.
*
Arthur honestly wasn’t surprised that Uther insisted on coming along to look at possible wedding venues, and he was even less surprised that Uther deemed most of the places they saw as too plain.
“It’s a very important ceremony,” he told the poor wedding planner, who looked as though her plastered-on smile was in danger of falling off very soon. “This is just too small.”
He gestured at the cavernous church, and Arthur swore he heard the flutter of birds in the rafters.
Elena didn’t seem to have many opinions herself, gazing around at the old carvings and stained glass windows.
“It’s a bit drafty,” she said, peering into the cobweb-filled corners.
“It just won’t do,” Uther agreed, and he herded them all out of the church.
They had already been to at least five places, and morning was quickly slipping into afternoon. Arthur doubted whether they would ever find anywhere suitable to have this wedding, although he would rather have not found anything.
“What about the garden?” Arthur asked as they walked down the street, the wedding planner flipping hastily through her notes for another location. “That was nice.”
“Yes, the flowers were beautiful,” Elena agreed, surprising Arthur. She hadn’t said much while they were there except to wonder if she should change the colour scheme of the wedding.
“You cannot get married in a garden,” Uther dismissed them. “Outdoor weddings are too unpredictable, and no one wants to sit on the lawn.”
They were never going to find somewhere, Arthur thought, any hope of escaping back to his flat for an evening of texting Merlin and watching old films disappearing.
“What about where you and Mum got married?” Arthur asked, desperate for an end to this day-trip.
Uther stopped walking abruptly, his eyes glazing over with memories for a second.
“Yes,” he said slowly, turning to face Arthur and Elena. The wedding planner stopped flipping through notes, looking up with a hint of desperation as well. “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll call the church and set up the date immediately.”
Arthur had never seen the church his parents had married in, though he knew it was on the north side of the river, a little ways out of the city. Uther rarely spoke of his mother or anything related to her.
“Wonderful!” the wedding planner piped up, elbowing her way through Arthur and Elena to Uther. “Then we can get started on the reception.”
Arthur had enough self-control not to groan out loud and a giddy thrill ran through him as his mobile vibrated with a new text.
Checking to make sure Uther was involved in discussions about locations for the reception, he took out his phone, expecting to see Merlin’s name on it.
He was surprised to see Percy’s instead, and his heart sank a little, but he opened the message.
Meeting at the pub for a guy’s night. You in?
Beside him, Elena hummed softly to herself. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but if he didn’t go, his friends would all ask why, and he couldn’t use work as an excuse again, not after the first five times.
I’ll be there.
He tucked away the mobile just as Uther turned around.
“We’re going to look at a few banquet halls for the reception. Arthur, get a taxi.”
Stepping up to the curb, Arthur flagged down a passing cab and held the door open for Elena. He hoped this afternoon would be over before long, although it didn’t look like it when the wedding planner gave the address to the driver. Sitting back on the seat, Arthur stared instead at the rain as it began to sprinkle on the window.
*
He definitely needed a drink, Arthur decided as he pushed open the door to the pub and spotted Percy at their usual table near the wall. A few other old Uni mates sat around the table and stood up to greet him as he approached.
“You made it,” Percy said, slapping his back.
Arthur took his seat. “You sound surprised.”
“You’re usually too busy to come out.”
“Thought I’d make sure you weren’t in any trouble,” Arthur joked, grabbing Percy around the shoulder in a tight squeeze that Percy weaseled out of with a laugh.
“Never,” he replied. “You want a pint? Or do you have to get up early to plan your wedding?”
“Sod off.” Arthur gestured to the bartender over the crowd, receiving a nod in return. “I spent all morning being dragged to churches.”
“Sounds like a right treat.”
Arthur didn’t reply, too exhausted to even try to be upbeat about his situation with Elena.
“Thanks, Cedric,” Arthur said instead as the bartender set down the pint on the table.
“Hey, haven’t seen you round these parts lately,” Cedric said, cocking a hip to the side and smiling sweetly at Arthur.
“Been busy.”
“That’s too bad. I’ve missed you.”
“’Fraid I don’t have much time for pubs,” Arthur replied, flashing him a tired smile.
Cedric wrinkled his nose as he laughed. “You should really come around more often.”
“Thanks.” Arthur tipped his glass at Cedric, and Cedric seemed to huff as he turned back to the bar.
Percy leaned over as Arthur took a long drink. “I don’t know why you don’t just shag him and then you won’t have to listen to his horrible flirting.”
Arthur coughed as he choked, wiping his mouth and shooting Percy an exasperated glance.
“Cedric doesn’t-”
“He only comes over to chat when you’re here,” Percy pointed out, lifting his mug. “I swear, mate, if you were any thicker, you would never get a romp.”
Shaking his head, Arthur chanced a glance at Cedric, only to find Cedric watching him. Cedric smiled widely and waved as he saw Arthur looking. Arthur turned back to his beer.
“I’m engaged,” he said simply. Cedric wasn’t exactly his type - short and shaped a bit like a rectangle, but then, Merlin wasn’t exactly his type either, and he sometimes found himself drifting into fantasies of Merlin on his knees, Merlin stripping off his clothes, Merlin’s mouth sliding down his cock.
“How’s that going?” Percy asked, trying for sincerity, but it came off as sarcastic, and Arthur took another long drink. “Has she let you shag her yet?”
Arthur almost shuddered at the thought of sex with Elena. “No, we haven’t.”
“Pity. She’s pretty easy on the eyes.”
“And the mind. Her only productive thought all day was if roses grew towards the sun, why weren’t they taller?”
Percy laughed, slapping Arthur’s shoulder again. “If you shag, she won’t have to talk.”
“Except for the fact that I’d much rather shag a bloke.”
“Cedric’s right over there.”
Sighing, Arthur drained the last of his drink. “You know I can’t.”
Percy sighed as well. “Chivalrous to the very end, even to the girl you can’t stand.”
Arthur didn’t contradict him, though he wouldn’t have said he disliked her that much. Instead, he pushed his chair back. “I’m going to get another pint.”
“I wish you luck,” Percy said as he headed to the bar. “Lots of luck.”
Part Three>>