Chapter Text
Egypt is hot and dry, just like the travel guides said. One thing they forgot to mention is the sand. It gets everywhere, dusty clouds rising up wherever people walk. It’s noisy and crowded and the smell can sometimes get horrendous.
But it’s miles away from the sleepy hamlet Merlin had been born into in his life and that’s what he’s looking for.
The sun’s beating down on the Pyramids of Giza complex, almost unbearably hot. Merlin can see heat waves off in the distance, rippling the air. The tour group he tagged along with is wandering around the base of the Sphinx but Merlin’s chosen to take a break, sitting on the ground in the shadows cast by the Great Pyramid.
He should put on sunscreen—he’s been reborn with pasty skin that burns more than it tans—but he can hear Arthur’s voice, nagging him about sun protection, mocking him for his inability to stay in the sun for more than a few hours without turning red, and some perverse emotion makes him reach for his water rather than his sunscreen.
He’s lanky as is per usual in his reincarnations, with a top of dusty blond hair instead of dark and brown eyes instead of blue. Apart from his pale skin, he blends into the sand and pyramids, which is probably why Arthur nearly trips over him.
“Merlin!”
Merlin lowers the water bottle, blinks at his wet shorts. “You made me spill my water, you plonker.” Then he registers the incongruity of Arthur being in front of him and switches from gaping at his wet shorts to gaping at his best friend. “Arthur? What are you doing in Egypt?”
“I could ask you the same thing—actually, I should be asking you that! What the hell were you thinking, a world trip?” True to character, Arthur props his hand on his hips and scowls at him.
In this life, Arthur wears his dark brown hair short on the sides and long on top. His eyes are green and his skin is tanned from hours of rugby and football. He’s gorgeous, of course, and Merlin really hates him for it.
Well, he would if he wasn’t completely head-over-heels for the bloody arse.
Merlin rolls the bottle of water in his hands, shrugs. “I told you, I want to see the world. I’ve been through Europe and most of the Middle East. Egypt was next on my list after Jordan.”
Arthur’s scowl deepens and he reaches down, grabs Merlin by his upper arms and hauls him to his feet. Merlin yelps, dropping his water bottle as he stumbles into Arthur. “You’re an idiot. A stupid, ignorant, fucking fool.”
And before Merlin can do more than open his mouth to start protesting, Arthur slams his mouth down onto Merlin’s. It’s not so much a kiss as it is a mashing of mouths.
But then Merlin—before he can stop himself, even as the words second choice, Jesus Gwen must have dumped him early, Christ, stop Merlin stop —feels his lips soften, his mouth open, feels himself shift. He closes his eyes, allows Arthur to pull him closer, to slide his hands from Merlin’s upper arms to his waist.
He’s weak, fucking hell, he’s so weak for his man, but he lifts his arms, wraps them around Arthur’s waist and holds on tight.
By the time Arthur lifts his head, Merlin’s dizzy from a mixture of lust and longing. He drops his head to Arthur’s shoulder, tries to catch his breath. He’s aware Arthur’s saying something but he can’t hear it, can’t hear anything over the buzzing in his ears.
He shakes his head to clear it. “What—what was that?”
“That,” Arthur says in a familiar pompous tone, “was a kiss. I know you’re not so innocent that you don’t know what a kiss is.”
Merlin thumps Arthur in the side. “You know what the fuck I mean! What was that kiss? Since when do you—me—you’re not even gay!”
Arthur sighs. “Damn you Merlin.” He murmurs, and Merlin’s startled to realise Arthur’s cupped his face, thumb rubbing along Merlin’s cheek. “When you left, I was lost. So fucking—it took two weeks, more alcohol than I care to recall, and a painful talking to from Gwen that I’d pay to never have to sit through again but I finally figured it out.”
Merlin eyes him warily because no matter what life they’re in, Arthur figuring things out rarely leads to good things.
“You’re an idiot,” Arthur says and kisses Merlin’s brow. “You didn’t have to run halfway across the world to get me to realise my feelings.”
Merlin stares at him, uncomprehendingly. Arthur continues rubbing his thumb along Merlin’s cheek. “You were gone. You were my life and then you left and I didn’t even realise how gone for you I was until I crawled out the bottle the third day after to find Gwen standing in front of me with an AA pamphlet in hand.” Arthur closes his eyes, presses his brow to Merlin’s. “I love you Merlin. I love you so don’t you dare leave me again.”
Merlin’s mind is blank but his mouth is moving and he hears himself say, “technically, I didn’t make it halfway round the world.”
Arthur stares at him, then rolls his eyes and bends his head, giving Merlin a fast, hard kiss. “I going to take that as an ‘I love you too’.”
Merlin smirks, hope rising and drowning out that stupid voice. “You do that.”