Archive of Our Own

“So which one are you going to go for?” yelled a man over the thumping base of the music that flooded the room.

Arthur eyed the group of girls his friend Geraint was talking about. They were all… typical of the kinds of women that hung out at these parties. All with rich daddies, looking to land themselves a boyfriend of importance. At least for a week or two, until they moved on to the next one. Not that any of them would say no to himーand once they got their claws into him, they’d be unlikely to let go anytime soon. Arthur had learned his lesson with Vivian. He was not going to get himself into a situation like that again, if he could help it. Not to mention, none of them were his type in the slightest.

Besides, as far as the rest of the public were concerned, he was dating Mithian Tewksbury-St Clair, the daughter of the Earl of Nemeth. And Arthur had been playing his part so well, without any missteps thus far.

With his father’s threat not to fuck it up, else he would be picking all of Arthur’s future partners, ringing in his ears, he couldn’t bring himself to think that maintaining his playboy image amongst old friends was worth it.

Mithian was easy. Mithian was gentle. She hadn’t even pushed him to go beyond hand holding and the occasional kiss. As far as Arthur was concerned, she was perfect for a man in his predicament. He couldn’t depend on that from anyone his father chose; his father had thought that Vivian had been a good match.

“Eh, not sure,” he said, trying not to commit. “Which one do you have your eye on?”

“The blonde one with the big—”

Geraint motioned towards his chest, and Arthur barely resisted rolling his eyes.

He downed the last of the champagne in his glass and patted Geraint on the back.

“Go for it!” he said encouragingly. “I’m going to get another!”

Arthur left Geraint to it, heading towards the bar at the far end of the room, pushing his way through the throngs of people in various states of dress—and in some cases, undress.

His father would kill him if he knew Arthur was here, but he needed to let off some steam, and most of the people here hardly wanted their parents and their lives splashed across the front pages, either. He used to be able to count on the press to turn a blind eye to his shenanigans, with his father’s men paying off reporters and witnesses if need be when he got too wild. But the previous summer had been the last straw: high and naked with his friends in Vegas, Arthur had gotten papped and all hell had broken loose when the editor of The Sun had decided to publish the pictures, rather than holding out his hand for a payoff. Uther had been on the warpath ever since, and Arthur had had to toe the line and play the role of the repentant prince, being set up with a couple of suitable young ladies, most of whom he’d blown off to hang out with his friends.

He was so sick and tired of all of it. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t asked for any of this. If he had his way, he’d accept a payoff from his father and fuck off to live his life in privacy. But he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Arthur slammed his empty glass down on the counter, making the bartender jump. He hurried to whisk away the glass.

"Same again, Your Highness?"

Arthur cast his eyes around, looking to see if his handler, Leon, had tracked him down yet, and gave the man a nod.

A new glass of champagne was passed to him within seconds, and Arthur accepted it without a second glance at the man.

"Arthur!" someone yelled boisterously and slung their arm around his neck. "Where the fuck have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages!"

"Cenred. Yeah, well, you know Father…" Arthur grimaced, taking a sip from his glass.

"Ah, fuck. That’s shit luck, mate. Still, you’re here now. Come with me to the gents, c’mon."

"Nah, I’ll pass ta," Arthur told him, eyeing the door to the bathroom. He knew what was going on behind those doors all too well, and his father would kill him if anything incriminating got out like it had last year. Fortunately, as in the past, money had taken care of the problem. But it was unlikely to work again. The press were out for blood.

"Arthur," Cenred drawled, draping an arm around Arthur’s neck. "Don’t be a cunt, c’mon. I got the best stuff for you…"

"Not interested," Arthur told him, shrugging off his arm.

"For fuck’s sake! Don’t be stupid." He slid a hand across Arthur’s chest, slowly creeping downwards over his abdomen and heading further south, and whispered teasingly in his ear, "I promise I’ll make it worth your while."

Arthur swallowed hard. It was hardly a secret amongst his friends that he was gay, and he and Cenred had had a few dalliances in the past when he was completely off his head. But most of them were wise enough not to proposition him so publicly.

Still. It had been a while since he’d had his cock sucked, and whatever his shortcomings were as a person, Cenred was good at giving head.

Cenred chuckled in his ear. "Come and meet me inside. Don’t make me wait, Arthur; you might be a prince, but you really don’t want to try me."

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur finished off his champagne and headed back into the throng of dancing people. Maybe he could find a hot guy who would be discreet if he took him home with him. Or better still, maybe they could find a room here. There had to be enough of them. Gwaine’s family had almost as much wealth as his. Arthur scowled, wishing that he could switch places. Gwaine’s family and the rest of the world didn’t give two fucks what he got up to; he’d give anything for it to be the same for him.

He must have struck on some kind of luck that night, as he spotted a gorgeous-looking twink with dark curly hair out on the dancefloor. Just his type. And from the way the guy was looking at him, perhaps Arthur was his type, too. He smiled, and the man ducked his head and smiled back.

A shy one. Perfect. His past experiences had taught him he could rely on the shy ones to be discreet. Not like that bastard Cenred, who had blabbed to all and sundry about what they’d done previously. Dick.

Arthur made his way through the crowd towards the man, eyeing him appreciatively.

"Hey," he said, brushing his lips against the man’s ear to make himself heard over the music. "I’m Arthur."

He let his hands skate over the man’s waist.

"Michael!" the man said, raising his voice and standing on tiptoes to make himself heard.

Arthur tilted the man’s head up towards him, examining his face. He was good-looking enough, but younger than Arthur had thought.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Sixteen," Michael told him.

"Fuck," Arthur muttered under his breath. He’d figured Michael had to be young, but he was hoping he wasn’t quite *that* young. But he was legal. His father would throw a shit-fit if he found out. A part of Arthur hoped that he would, despite all the hell that would rain down on him. He was so tired of doing what other people wanted. Fuck them all.

"Arthur?"

Arthur didn’t answer; instead, he pulled Michael closer and took what he wanted, capturing the man’s lips with his. Michael startled, frozen for a moment, so much so that Arthur almost pulled away, fearing he’d misread the situation, before he started kissing back.

He remembered Cenred’s offer. He didn’t much fancy the drugs—he could take them or leave them. But the bathroom would offer privacy and be a huge fuck you to Cen.

They danced together to the music on the dancefloor, their bodies pressed close against each other as they continued to kiss. When the song finally finished, Arthur grabbed Michael by the hand and led him towards the bathroom.

They fell into the room together, fumbling through the door as they continued to kiss, and Michael was already unbuttoning Arthur’s shirt and clawing at his chest. He was young, but seemingly not without experience, judging by the way he was kissing Arthur back.

"Ah, Arthur, you decided to join us!" crowed Cenred.

Arthur flipped him off, not even looking at him as he guided Michael into a cubicle and slammed the door behind them.

It didn’t take long before Michael was on his knees and Arthur’s trousers were pooled around his ankles.

What Michael lacked in experience, he made up for with enthusiasm as he took Arthur into his mouth and started sucking him off.

Arthur hummed happily. He’d missed this, Maybe he wouldn’t get rid of this one. He could do with someone at his beck and call, ready to suck cock and get fucked at Arthur’s whim. If only Michael wasn’t so young, he’d have been perfect for it. He’d have to keep searching.

Michael bobbed his head, gagging as he swallowed Arthur’s cock. Arthur pushed in deeper until there were tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, which he swiped away with his thumb. Michael pulled off, coughing, but was soon back, undeterred. Well, it wasn’t every day you got to suck the cock of a prince, after all.

Michael continued working hard for several more minutes as Arthur felt his orgasm begin to build. It wasn’t the best cock sucking he’d ever had, but it was enough.

He came with a groan, pumping his seed down Michael’s throat.

When he was recovered enough, he hauled Michael to his feet and returned the favour, tugging roughly on his cock until the boy cried out his release, splattering over the floor.

Arthur adjusted himself, then grasped Michael by the hand.

"Let’s go dance," he said.

The rest of the night was mostly a blur. Arthur remembered the dancing. He remembered leaning over Michael, who was trembling with excitement beneath him. They used protection, he knew that much.

There was a car journey, too, so Leon must have got him home safely.

Then he’d passed out cold in the comfort of his own bed.

***

Arthur groaned, his head pounding along with the sound of someone banging at his door which had so rudely awoken him.

"Sir," called a voice.

Arthur vaguely recognised it as Leon’s, muffled though it was. Why the hell was Leon waking him, after the night he'd had? He knew better.

"Sir," Leon called again, with a tinge of urgency to his voice. "You must get up and dressed immediately!"

"What?"

Arthur covered his face with a pillow to block out the light. He felt like hell, his mouth was foul, he ached all over and his head felt like a ball of cotton. He didn’t smell too ripe, either.

He glanced over at the other bed in his room. It was empty, good. At least this was one less indignity for his roommate, Lancelot, to witness.

"You don’t have much time, sir. Your father will be here shortly, security briefed me—"

Arthur bolted upright.

"My father!" he exclaimed. "Here!?"

"Yes, sir, now please. If you’d get out of bed—" Arthur hauled himself out of bed and Leon hastily averted his eyes. "—and get some clothes on, he’ll be here in the next few minutes."

"Fuck."

"Indeed, sir."

Arthur hurried over to his drawers, searching through them to find some underwear, only to find it mostly empty. When he had come to university, Uther had made him attend like a normal student, with no special treatment except for Leon and Elyan, his bodyguards. No maids or manservant to clean up after himself, and no one to do his laundry, which was the most pressing issue right now. In a moment of desperation, Arthur strode over to the other side of the room and started rummaging through his roommate’s drawers, happily snatching up the last pair of boxers in his drawers and tugging them on.

He swooped up his jeans from the floor where he’d discarded them the night before and grabbed the ugly green shirt from his bottom drawer which he hated and was always his last resort. At the very least, it was clean, which was more than could be said for everything else he owned.

"You can turn around, Leon," he called, as he peered into the small mirror on his chest of drawers, running a hand over the stubble on his chin and cheeks. He looked rough as hell and his father hated it when he was unshaven, but there was no time for a shave. There was no time for anything, if Leon’s word was anything to go by.

As if by clockwork, there was a smart rap at the door which made Arthur jump.

"Arthur, open up. I know you’re in there," came his father’s voice.

"Stall him," Arthur mouthed, as he hurried to do up the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

"Be right there, sir!" Leon called back, heading towards the door.

It swung open, banging against the wall.

Arthur took a deep breath before turning around.

"Ah, Father," he said smoothly. "How nice of you to visit. You should have let me know, we would have given the place a tidy."

Uther looked around the room with something akin to disgust. His valet, George, made a valiant attempt to clear Arthur’s computer chair of clothing and crumbs so he could sit; however, the king eyed it with distaste and stayed standing.

"I’d say it’s like a pig-sty in here," he said, "but that would be insulting to pigs. Though I don’t know why I expected anything less from you, given your latest escapades."

"My what?" Arthur asked, forcing down a belch that threatened to turn into throwing up as his stomach churned unhelpfully.

Uther signalled to George, who passed him a bundle of newspapers.

"Prince of Partying," he said shortly, throwing one paper at Arthur’s feet. "Party Arty is at it again!" Another fluttered to the ground. "Prince Arthur caught with his pants down… No, literally."

He continued through all of them, each headline progressively worse than the last. He must have had George organise them.

Finally, the last one hit the floor.

"Well?" he asked. "Explain yourself."

Arthur tilted his head to the left, trying to look at the photo printed on one of the front pages.

"Is that one from last night?"

"Don’t change the subject. I asked you a question."

"It was just a party. They’re exaggerating."

Uther made an exasperated noise and swiped up a paper from the floor, shoving it under Arthur’s nose. It took him a moment to focus on the picture. A picture of him and—what was his name? Michael?—in flagrante delicto, as it were.

"And what, exactly, am I supposed to tell Rodor about this, hmm? How exactly are we supposed to see this engagement of yours through with his daughter when you’re going around having sex with men?" he ranted, his voice turning harsh and tight as he clenched his teeth. He was in a fine rage. "We agreed you would stop doing this, Arthur. You’re an adult now. I could accept the occasional… curiosity when you were younger, but you have obligations and responsibilities to the throne."

Arthur scowled and clenched his fists, trying to quell his own anger. It was never good when they were both angry, and they couldn’t fight here. The walls were paper thin; it was as good as fighting in public.

"You said that. I made no such agreement. I told you—"

"You agreed to the marriage. You should honour it. I raised you to be many things, Arthur. I thought at the very least I raised you to be an honourable man. But you can’t even be that, can you?"

"How dare you accuse me of having a lack of honour when you cheated on my mother?"

"How dare you speak of your mother to me when you behave as you do! She would die on the spot if she could see what’s become of you. I gave you every advantage, everything a child could possibly want. I even let you go to this blasted university rather than one closer to home, and THIS is how you repay me? How on earth can we expect Mithian and Rodor to show their faces in public, to act as though you two are engaged, when there are pictures of you with men plastered across the papers, on the internet, being gossiped about in all corners of the kingdom? Enough, Arthur. I’ve had enough. I will NOT have you embarrass our good name any further."

They both jumped when the door burst open.

‟Sorry, sorry. I know that I said I’d be here for ten, and I was trying to get here but Gaius stopped me, and you know what he can be like," said the young man, making a chatty mouth with one hand as he juggled a pile of books in his other hand. ‟I’m happy to stay late and go over regressions again with you if you’d like. I know you were struggling with those when we last— Oh, um…"

He slowly put his books down on the corner of Arthur’s desk whilst staring at Uther with eyes as wide as saucers, which Arthur supposed was warranted. If you weren’t related to or employed by him, it wasn’t every day you walked into a room to see the King of England.

Arthur sighed.

This hadn’t been how he’d wanted his father to find out he was being tutored. He paid for it himself with the money from his mother’s estate, because he hadn’t wanted Uther to know that he was taking everything in hand and actually trying to get a proper education. He hadn’t wanted him to know he was struggling, either.

‟Hello, Merlin."

‟I’m sorry, I should have knocked," Merlin said, running his fingers through his hair and tugging on it.

‟Yes, you really should have," said Arthur, resignedly.

Merlin never knocked. It was one of the biggest peeves Arthur had with him. He’d have gotten rid of him as a tutor except that, firstly, Arthur knew he really needed the money, and secondly, deny it though he may, Merlin really was the best teacher Arthur had ever had in his expansive tutoring experience. He knew just how to approach things in a way that Arthur could grasp, and he knew he wouldn’t find anyone smarter when it came to Maths tutelage.

He watched as Merlin pivoted towards his father and made some kind of weird attempt at what appeared to be an amalgamism of a bow and a curtsey

‟I can— I mean, I should— I can leave? Your Highness?" he said, his voice getting progressively higher in pitch.

‟Yes, that would be good," Arthur answered, intervening for his father, who was glowering at Merlin as though he had insulted him in some way.

Merlin slowly reached for his books, his eyes darting between father and son, the tips of his ears burning a bright red.

‟Okay, well, I’ll just—be getting these—" He picked up the books. ‟And I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll, um, text you, Arthur?"

‟Sure," said Arthur.

He’d be willing to agree to almost anything Merlin asked at this moment to get him to leave. It was embarrassing enough that his father had made this visit; now there was no way it would go unnoticed, and Merlin would have his tale to tell of how the King and his son were having a blazing row. Perfect. Just perfect.

‟And, uh— don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone," Merlin said, as though he could read Arthur’s mind. He gave Arthur a wink, which did strange things to Arthur’s stomach, before he beat a hasty retreat and left the room.

Uther seemed to shake himself of his stupor and faced Arthur once more.

‟As I was saying before your… friend interrupted. If you are going to continue to have these kind of ridiculous rendezvous with men, then I guess we will have to start looking for a suitable boy to straighten out your image."

Arthur suppressed both a smile and his surprise. There was nothing straight about him. He’d known that for years. What he hadn’t counted on was his father not only acknowledging this fact, but also resigning himself to it.

‟I am willing to make this concession for you, Arthur. But I’m warning you: this is your final chance. You muck this up again by whoring around and partying like you have been and I will withdraw you from university, send you into the military and then engage you to the woman of my choosing. Do I make myself clear?"

Arthur swallowed. He could tell from the look on his father's face that this really was it. They were both more than aware of how the monarchy’s reputation was struggling in the country. Uther was trying, but he wasn’t someone to whom people warmed naturally, and Arthur’s behaviour wasn’t helping any. Arthur knew that he reminded his father of his mother; he’d seen pictures, and there was a genuine likeness. From what he’d heard, she had been kind and beloved, and the family had been coasting on her memory for far too long. He also knew that his father had been depending on him to win the people over, and he had beenー until the pressure of it all had become too much. His father wasn’t being deliberately cruel; he was thinking of the future of the family, hence the final ultimatum. Arthur could either shape up, or be shipped out. At least then he’d be out of the public’s eye.

The fact was, they both needed some good publicity, and fast. Perhaps it was time for Arthur to try a bit harder to do his part. His father had shown willingness to make some concessions, and so should he. He could hardly escape his destiny, try though he might.

‟Perfectly," he agreed.

‟Good. I will be in touch soon with potential suitors for you."

Arthur wrinkled his nose at his father’s use of the word ‘suitor’. So ridiculous and old-fashioned. He was bound to pick some kind of rich idiot, but at least it’d be a rich idiot with a dick this time, and that was an improvement on all the women Arthur had been expected to entertain.

***

For the rest of the week, Arthur kept a low profile, tasking Leon and Elyan with acquiring notes for the lectures where his attendance would draw too much attention to himself and trying to slip in at the back of the others right before the lecture started.

He turned his phone off after the first two days of incessant texts and phone calls from his mates. He’d tried blowing them off initially, but they got more and more insistent that he needed to come out with them, going so far as to bang at his dorm room door until even the good-humoured Lancelot got frustrated.

It wasn’t like he could go anywhere else, either. The university campus was secure, and special arrangements had been made for his room, but if he left Arthur was under no doubt that he would be pounced on by the plethora of paparazzi who were always chomping at the bit to get pictures and stories about him. Despite his behaviour, most people were used to seeing him on campus now, and it was generally a place he considered safe from the baying mobs. It was when he was on his third evening hiding out at the library that he bumped into Merlin.

Literally.

"Sorry!" Merlin said, as his books tumbled to the ground. "I didn’t see you."

Arthur bent to help him gather the books and some stray pieces of paper covered in Merlin’s scrawling handwriting.

"Then what’s the point of these?" Arthur teased, flicking the bridge of the thick black frames perched on Merlin’s nose. "I didn’t know you wore glasses."

He passed Merlin back the books he’d gathered.

They were rather curious books, old leather-wrapped tomes that looked like they belonged in a museum or the British Library, or even one of the old palace libraries. Not something he’d expect a university student to be carrying.

"Oh yeah," Merlin said, fiddling with his glasses nervously. "I normally wear contacts, but my eyes have been so itchy the last few days—hayfever. I must look like the biggest nerd."

"You’re the biggest nerd I know."

"Thanks," said Merlin sarcastically. "And what are you doing here at this time of night, Your Majesty? I guess you’re just in the library after eight for the ambiance, hmm?"

"It’s Highness. Majesty is for the monarch."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Sorry for not having intimate knowledge of how royal titles work."

"If you must know, I’m… avoiding someone," Arthur said with a grimace.

"Who? You're a prince, can’t you just get them removed or something?"

They started to walk towards the exit together, walking through the shelves towards the corridor that led to the stairs.

"It’s my friends. My father believes they’re a bad influence."

"He did look rather angry the other day. What did you do?" Merlin asked as he held open the door to the stairwell.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and paused for a moment. Merlin must not have seen the newspapers and news coverage, which left him considering how much he should say. He didn’t want Merlin to have a bad opinion of him; he really seemed too nice, too normal. Almost too pure, though that sounded ridiculous. He was just… a regular guy, untouched by the ravishes of money and overindulgence, and Arthur didn’t really want to taint that.

"Let’s just say I may have tried his patience one too many times," he said as they descended the stairs.

"What, you? Trying people's patience?" Merlin grinned.

"Hush you. I’m a prince."

"So you keep reminding me…" said Merlin. "You still didn’t really explain why you’re hiding in a library. Why would you need to hide from friends?"

"Because they keep harassing me to go out with them and I need to keep a low profile for a while until my father’s temper has cooled off. It will do no end of damage to go out on a bender now. But they just won’t take no for an answer, so I decided to come here. They’d never think to look for me here. Once they get bored, they usually head off without me."

"No offence, but if your friends won’t listen to you, then they’re wankers. No means no, regardless of whether or not they’re friends. No one is entitled to your time."

"You’d think so, wouldn’t you?"

"You know what I mean."

As they reached the exit, Merlin scanned out his books and shoved them in his backpack.

"Well," said Merlin, once they were outside and breathing the cool night air. "I’m going this way."

He indicated to their left.

"Yeah, I’m going that way," said Arthur, pointing right.

"Okay, bye then!" Merlin said with a grin, giving Arthur a little wave.

"Bye," agreed Arthur, raising his hand in a returning wave. "See you around."

He started on his way, pausing only briefly to glance over his shoulder and look back at Merlin. He was an enigma. Smart as hell, but also an idiot. A nerd, but also somehow kind of cool, too. And he was one of the only people who treated Arthur like he was normal and not someone to be sucked up to or treated with kid-gloves. Arthur’s talk with him today had made him feel like himself, just Arthur. And for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe that wasn’t such a bad person to be.

***

For the rest of the week, Arthur managed to dodge the requests and attention of his usual friends, doing his best to put his head down and get on with things.

Eventually, all but the most insistent of them gave up even trying, perhaps figuring Arthur would reach out to them whenever he was ready to pick up where he left off.

Despite what his father thought, Arthur really was determined to do his best and earn his own way in life as well as he could. And the start of that was showing he was more than capable academically. He wasn’t dumb. He saw the papers and the online gossip, and he knew people thought he was nothing more than a lay-about—a spoilt, rich, party-boy fuck-up who was coasting on his good looks and hereditary wealth. Stupid and vapid and good for nothing else.

He was going to show them that he had something about him which was worth knowing, and since he didn’t really know exactly what that was, he figured the best place to start was to show he wasn’t dim.

As such, after his classes and a quick session in the university gym—he had been neglecting his body lately—he’d been spending a lot more time in the library. And after the first few days, he couldn’t help but notice it seemed to be a favourite place of Merlin’s, too.

Previously, their tutoring sessions had all taken place in Arthur and Lancelot’s dorm room, because Arthur hadn’t wanted anyone to spot them and figure out that he needed an extra hand with his work. Given they were both in the library so much, however, they decided to book one of the many quiet rooms around the edges of the library and have their tutoring sessions there.

It felt different somehow to be on neutral ground. Merlin was more relaxed and less uptightーmore friendly and less formal, though he’d never been beyond teasing Arthur at least a little. It was just different to their usual dynamic and that unsettled Arthur. He had kept Merlin at arms length for a reason. People he had trusted had been more than willing to turn around and stab him in the back. And it wasn’t just that; people he got too close to inevitably got burnt. He had lost count of the number of old school chums and other acquaintances who’d been followed and harassed by the press, all in the name of a story to sell their newspapers.

It was a parasitic relationship; when it suited, Arthur, too, had leaked things via the press and, he was ashamed to admit, not always with good intentions.

He didn’t want Merlin to be exposed to any of that.

But he still needed Merlin to stick around, and studying in the library seemed to be helping on both accounts. It protected Merlin from the gaze of the predatory paparazzi, and it also seemed to be helping Arthur’s focus, because his marks had been steadily improving ever since they relocated.

‟That was great," said Merlin with a grin and he packed his books away in his backpack. ‟You’ve been doing a lot better lately. Pretty soon you won’t need me at all; you’ll be able to manage on your own, I should think."

‟Oh," said Arthur, almost dropping his book with surprise. ‟I don’t know about that…"

‟Well, we can keep going if you really want to, but it would probably be a waste of—well, I guess money probably isn’t an issue for someone like you. But you know what I mean, and I really do mean it, Arthur. You’re on par with some of the better students in the class now, so you should be fine."

Arthur said nothing, wondering why he felt a sick feeling in his gut as he too put his things away. He threw his satchel over his shoulder and held open the door for Merlin, who merely raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sudden show of manners from a prince.

As they headed down from the third floor, Merlin spoke.

"God, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Differential equations always make me hungry. Do you want to get some food somewhere?"

"Uh, sure," agreed Arthur. "I know this great burger place down in the lower town."

"Oh, burgers? Er… well…"

Pulling a face, Arthur said, "Don’t tell me. You’re one of those soft-hearted vegans, aren’t you?"

"Well, I’m vegetarian—"

"I knew it!"

"—but I’m also lactose-intolerant. So that kind of makes me vegan by default. Just easier that way."

"It’s a good job I knew you’d be one of those. This burger place also happens to have an excellent vegan burger menu. Oh ye of little faith."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Come on!" Arthur called, striding on ahead. "I promise you it’s way better than the veggie burger at the Pitstop!"

Arthur shuddered involuntarily remembering the state of the place when he’d gone in there sober one time. When they were drunk enough, all Camelot University students declared the Pitstop the best fast food place on campus, but in the cold light of day, the university-run late-night burger takeaway was pretty grim. Its biggest draw was definitely the gnawing hunger of drunk and high students when all other places were long closed.

Leading the way off campus, Arthur was impressed that Merlin easily managed to keep pace with him. He was also pleased that he seemed to have managed to give Leon and Elyan the slip for once. He was so tired of being followed and watched over constantly. He just wanted to be normal for a bit, and there was nothing more normal than two mates going to get a bite to eat together.

At least, it felt like they were mates. Anxiety fluttered in Arthur’s chest, making it difficult to breathe for a few moments.

Would Merlin classify them as mates? What if he was just using Arthur, like so many others had in the past? He hardly had any people he would consider real friends, and sad as it was, his sister was one of them, though he’d sooner stick hot pokers in his eyes than admit it. He’d had a lot of experience with fakers in his life, but not so much when it came to people who liked him for who he was. He found those kinds of people much harder to spot. Or maybe he just wasn’t that likeable. Whilst his behaviour had been less than impeccable in the past, he did hope that he was the kind of person who was a good friend.

He snuck a glance at Merlin, who was telling him an amusing story one of their tutors—an old hippy called Gaius—had told him a few weeks ago of his misspent youth.

He seemed genuine enough. He hadn’t asked Arthur about anything untoward. He hadn’t probed or hinted or manipulated their conversation in any way. Arthur’s gut told him that Merlin was being sincere, but he wanted him to be authentic so desperately that he wasn’t sure if he should trust his gut.

"So, where is this place?"

"Huh?" said Arthur, snapping out of his own thoughts.

"This wonderful burger place of yours. Whereabouts is it, since apparently you’re not really paying attention?"

"Sorry. It’s on Shipton Street."

When they arrived on the street, Arthur took the lead again, having been content to let Merlin lead so that he could think some more. He wondered when his father was going to get in touch with him again. Just how many gay gentry were there, these days? It still wasn’t easy to come out in Arthur’s social circles, and he was hard pushed to think of more than a couple of men he knew who were queer. He really didn’t fancy having to play sweethearts with any of them. The others… well, they may have already had encounters that would make things more than a little awkward, and obviously they hadn’t been compatible because otherwise they’d have attempted to be more than a one time hook-up or a stupid fling.

He didn’t think his father would pick someone hideous; to the contrary, he was quite aware of their public image, and if he was going to debut the first gay prince and his partner, then Arthur knew he would want the man to be a handsome one.

Given all of that, he comforted himself that it would likely be some time yet before his father requested that he come and meet someone, as he had done in the past with the women he had wanted Arthur to date. Mith hadn’t spoken to him since this all went down. He’d tried to text her with no response. He’d even called a few times, only to be ignored. He deserved that, though. People would think what they wanted about him, but he was genuinely sorry to put her through such embarrassment and heartache.

"It’s just up here," he said, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. Perish the thought if Merlin thought he was poor company.

They entered a shop with a sign above the door that identified it as Hengist’s Grill.

"Really?" Merlin asked as he looked around the grungy shop with disbelief. "This is the place with amazing burgers that you promised me? It looks more like a derelict shop in here. Do they even know the word ‘vegan’? And how the fu— fudge did you ever end up eating at a place like this?"

Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin’s attempt not to swear in front of him and sighed. Was it better to be honest, or to lie?

‟You can swear in front of me, you know," he said. "It’s not treason or anything."

"Oh, thank goodness."

"And I found it the way we all find amazing places to eat. I stumbled in here one night, high and drunk off my arse craving food. I didn’t realise until the second time I came here I was actually eating a vegan burger. Of course," he reflected. "I was a fair bit more sober that time."

"Well, if you’re sure," Merlin said.

"Take away or eat in?"

"May as well eat in since we’re here," said Merlin, making his way towards an empty table near the window.

A server, obviously a student such as themselves, rambled over to them and handed them a cardboard menu, smacking her gum.

Her mouth fell open when her eyes met Arthur’s. He was sadly quite used to it by now. The biggest challenge was usually trying not to laugh. Merlin’s face in particular had been truly comical.

"Hi," he said politely, as he accepted the menu. "And thank you."

The girl's face turned a vibrant shade of crimson.

"You’re welcome," she squeaked before making a hasty exit.

Merlin looked at him, grinning with amusement.

"I’m guessing that’s a common response?" he asked.

"Very. You should have seen your face when I opened the door to you the first time you came over to tutor me. Your eyes almost fell out of your head."

"Shut up," said Merlin, throwing a screwed up serviette at him.

"Turning to assault now, are you?"

Merlin stuck out his tongue, and Arthur threw the serviette back. They proceeded to continue throwing it at each other until Merlin was laughing so hard that he missed Arthur completely and it went sailing over his shoulder.

Once they had stopped laughing, Merlin turned his attention back to the menu. "Wow, you weren’t kidding, this looks great!"

The blushing waitress eventually returned to take their order, bringing them their drinks and burgers.

As Merlin eagerly tucked in, he couldn’t help but rave about the place to Arthur.

"Oh my God, Arthur. How could you hold out on me like this? This burger? Is the best thing I think I’ve ever had. Honestly. And the chips? To die for."

"Come on. It’s good, but not that that good, surely?"

Merlin shook his head vigorously.

"No, it’s the truth. It’s amazing," he said, taking another bite.

Arthur grinned to himself.

"Well, I’m glad you like it."

He held back a laugh as he reflected that the way to a man’s heart—or Merlin’s, at least—seemed to be through his stomach.

***

Merlin chewed on the end of his pen as he grappled with a rather tricky mathematical problem. He’d been working on the idea for a while. It wasn’t homeworkーit was more of a… merging of his personal interests and talents, maths and social science. He was sure there was a method or theorem to explain it all, but the problem was figuring it out and proving his hypothesis.

His phone beeped, startling him. Shit, a text from Arthur. He was late! He bundled his notes together and shoved them into a folder and into his backpack, planning on working on them after his tutoring session, and with a quick check that he had the right textbooks, Merlin sent Arthur a text back before hightailing it to the library at the centre of campus.

Once he’d swiped his ID and got through the barriers, he started to climb the stairs.

Why, oh, why had they settled on the third floor?

Panting and sweating profusely, Merlin pushed open the door to the study room.

"Sorry," he gasped, dropping his backpack to the ground and pulling out a chair. "I lost track of time."

Arthur’s eyes travelled over him in that way that always made Merlin’s stomach squirm.

"So I can see," he said cryptically.

Stop it, Merlin told himself. He’s a prince and you have a working relationship. Don’t be an idiot about things. Besides, everyone fancies him. He’s Prince Arthur. You’re not special. Now, get down to work.

Merlin gave himself a mental shake and sat down, trying to focus on the lesson plan he’d made for Arthur.

"Shall we pick up where we left off last lesson?" he asked. "Or is there anything from your last lecture that you wanted us to go over?"

***

After the lesson, where Merlin finally got his libido under control, his thoughts started to turn back to his pet project. He was sure he was almost there with his equation, and he was eager to perfect it. He knew he could crack this, if he could just figure out what was missing…

"Hey!" said Arthur, snapping his fingers in front of Merlin’s face.

"Huh?"

"You spaced out. I said, do you want to grab a drink?"

"Oh! I— Um, I was hoping to do a bit of research here in the library, sorry. You should totally go though, you’ve earned it!"

"Maybe another time," Arthur murmured, turning to put his notebook away.

"Yeah, maybe," Merlin agreed.

"See you next week," Arthur said, departing so abruptly that Merlin was left scratching his head.

That was rather strange.

***

The next time they had a tutoring session, they did leave together and went to the bar in the library for a drink, where one rapidly became two and then three.

Merlin was a bit worse for wear when it came to the end of the third drink. He had barely eaten all day, which usually spelt disaster for anything more than one drink, let alone three. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning inanely at everything Arthur said, regardless of whether it was brilliant or not.

He couldn’t remember the finer details of it all, but Arthur walked him home. He remembered distinctly how it felt to have Arhur’s arm wrapped around his waist, with his own draped around Arthur’s neck, and how warm Arthur had felt next to his side. He smelt good too; expensive aftershave, no doubt. He was posh enough to faff around with stuff like that. Either way it was better than half the guys he’d been interested in the past who were barely past using Axe bodyspray.

Then he woke up several hours later with a roaring headache and swore off further visits to the pub with Arthur there and then. Even if it meant no more excuses for close proximity. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get too close to a prince anyhow. The king would probably have his head chopped off or something for corrupting his son. Not that Merlin thought he was the kind of guy who could make another man question his sexuality. He knew he fit squarely in the twink category.

There had never been any big coming out announcement in the Emrys household. It hadn’t been needed; it had been obvious to everyone, even Merlin himself, that he was different from an early age. It had just taken Merlin some time to put his finger on exactly what made him different—except for his magic, which he knew was rare—until one day, it had clicked.

Meanwhile, Arthur was obviously going to get married at some point after university with a big, white royal wedding with a beautiful blushing bride, with kids that looked just like him soon to follow, to keep up the royal line of succession.

In fact, Merlin had some kind of vague recollection of seeing some kind of news article months ago about him being engaged to some European princess. So his future was already laid out for him.

But this was a new week and he was going to do his best to push aside those kinds of thoughts and the mortifying idea that he might have said or done something inappropriate to cause Arthur to hate him on their stumble home the previous week. He felt like he would have remembered such an event, anyhow.

This evening, they were returning to studying in Arthur’s dorm room. His roommate was out for the night, likely not to return that night according to Arthur. Speaking of—that was another new development: Arthur had started messaging him during the week, not to talk about when to have their next tutoring session but with random observations or social chatting about his friends. It was weird having a prince in your DMs as though he was one of your mates. Maybe he was? Was it okay for a prince to be friends with a commoner? There was so much Merlin didn’t know or understand about Arthur’s world.

Anyway, Arthur had told him about how his roommate—Lancelot—had fallen head over heels in love with a girl in his English Literature lectures called Guinevere. Apparently, it was very entertaining to see him swooning all over the place when she was around, but more often than not, he stayed over at hers. It sounded a lot like love at first sight.

Merlin was happy enough with the arrangement. Arthur’s dorm room had a kettle and mini-fridge which meant tea and snacks were much more readily available than when they were in the library.

After checking he had everything, he grabbed his backpack and made his way across campus.

When he knocked on the door, Arthur opened the door with surprise.

"Merlin! Sorry, did we…"

"Hey," he said. "Yeah, we have a tutoring session."

"Oh, um. Now isn’t really a good time, could we maybe reschedule?"

Merlin scowled. They always met up for tutoring on a Tuesday evening, and it wasn’t like Arthur to forget.

"Arthur—" called a female voice. "Who is it?"

Arthur glanced back over his shoulder.

"It’s no one," he told the woman who was apparently inside Arthur’s room.

Merlin felt sick to his stomach.

Of course.

Of course Arthur was with a girl.

He was an idiot. Such a huge, ridiculous idiot.

"It’s okay," he said, plastering a wide smile on his face and giving Arthur a wink. "I get it. Say no more." He turned and walked away, willing himself not to look back. "Text me when you want to reschedule!"

"Merlin! Wait! It’s not like— It’s not what you think!"

Merlin shrugged, keeping his head held high. He wasn’t sure why Arthur was making excuses. He was entitled to do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted. It wasn’t Arthur’s fault Merlin was stupid enough to find himself liking a straight, unattainable prince.

Behind him, there was the sound of feet padding on the wooden floor of the hallway.

A hand clamped on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Merlin, stop. Come back."

Forcing himself to turn with the same false, bright grin, he turned to look at Arthur.

He looked gorgeous as always in a plain T-shirt and grey jogging bottoms—God, Merlin had a weakness for grey joggers—and bare feet.

"Arthur," he said. "It’s fine. Really. We can set up a session another time. You have company."

"I do," Arthur agreed. "The company is my sister."

With a frown, Merlin’s mind began to race. Arthur’s sister? How did he not know Arthur had a sister?

"Your sister? Butーwouldn’t that be worse? I’d be interrupting family time."

"No, you would be doing me a HUGE favour. If you joined us, she would stop subjecting me to an onslaught of invasive questions that are none of her fucking business. She’ll behave herself in the presence of others. And with any luck, I can get her to clear off."

Merlin couldn’t help but smile, a real one this time.

"Yeah? What’s in it for me?" he asked cheekily.

"Drinks on me," said Arthur. "At the Horse and Hounds, all night."

"Drinks are always on you. You’re the rich one," said Merlin, rolling his eyes. "A poor lowly taxpayer like me, funding your lifestyle—"

"You don’t pay taxes, Merlin."

"Well, not quite yet, I’m a bit under the threshold. But I will at some point!"

"Besides. My money comes from investments my mother made when she was pregnant."

A few students nearby had started to pay attention to them, looking at them strangely.

"Come on. Let’s go back inside, and I’ll rescue you from your sister."

"I owe you one."

They went back towards Arthur’s room, and Merlin wondered curiously what Arthur meant by his sister. He wasn’t really one who followed the royalsーnever had been. But he was sure he wouldn’t have forgotten something like that. He was pretty sure Arthur was an only child.

"You said she was your sister? How did that happen?" he asked. "I thought you were an only child."

"Ah, well," Arthur said, drawing out the words. "It’s complicated…"

The door in front of them opened, and Merlin’s jaw almost hit the floor when he laid eyes on the woman standing there. He recognised her from off of the TV, Lady something or other. She was Arthur’s sister?

"Arthur, are you and your little friend coming in or not?"

They ended up going out.

It turned out Morgana—Arthur’s illegitimate half-sister—was a bit of a bad influence. But also a lot of fun. Merlin was a big fan of the way she brought Arthur down a peg or two and kept him on his toes. She was as bitingly sarcastic and mean as she was beautiful, but in a good way.

Merlin was well into his fourth cocktail with some kind of stupid name—like a blow job or something, whatever, it tasted goodーand he was in no state to defend himself from Morgana’s probing questions as his head lolled against Arthur’s shoulder.

"So, Merlin…" she purred. Merlin recognised the danger he was in, but knew he wasn’t sharp enough to match wits with her in his current state.

"Yup, that’s me."

"How did you and my brother meet?"

Merlin turned the question over in his mind. It was—to borrow a phrase from Arthur—a bit complicated.

"Well, Arthur was failing his maths unit—"

"I wasn’t failing, Merlin," Arthur interrupted. "I was having a few difficulties with some of the topics that we were being tested on."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin faced Morgana again, leaning closer on the table as he said, "He was failing. Ow—! Did you just flick my ear?"

"Just get your story over with. I’ll make corrections when you exaggerate."

"I never exaggerate. Anyway, Morgana," he continued, before taking another sip of his drink. "Arthur needed some help with his studies. And I needed some money. So my lecturer suggested that I do some tutoring to help make ends meet. I put a notice on the messageboard, and his roommate contacted me because he knew Arthur would get in deep shit with Uther if he didn’t pass—"

"I don’t know, these days I think he’d be happy for me to failーthen he could pull me out of uni and put me in the army or something."

Arthur pulled a face to show how he felt about that idea.

"You know you’ll have to do some kind of military service at some point, Arthur," said Morgana. "It’s tradition."

"Fuck tradition."

Merlin snorted.

"All right, anyway, Arthur’s roommate—Lancelot, he’s shagging Gwen at the moment by the way—he called me, said that he needed complete… complete contra— confir— confid—" Merlin waved his hand dismissively. "You know what I mean. He made me promise to keep it a secret. But I told him I wanted to know who it was first. So Lancelot had me come over. Only he didn’t tell him, did he? So I turned up and was a bit gob-smacked, to be honest. It’s not every day you walk into a room and see the Prince of Wales. I mean— I knew Arthur was going here. But I hadn’t ever seen him, and didn’t have any intention of meeting him—"

"Rude!"

Turning to face the man in question, Merlin stuck his tongue out at Arthur. "You’re one to talk! I don't think I've ever met such a pompous, stuck up, rude, conceited—"

"Please, Merlin. By all means, don’t hold back…"

"What? You were. He yelled at me and kicked me out. Didn’t even give me a chance to explain."

Morgana laughed. "That sounds like him. And yet here you are, tutoring him."

"Yes. For a while, I thought that was that, didn’t really give it much thought, but Lancelot has it in his head that I’m some kind of genius and that I’d be the best choice for Arthur. It was only when Arthur started failing tests that he came and found me. I told him no." Morgana raised her eyebrows. "But he begged me to reconsider—"

"I didn’t beg, Merlin. I merely asked if you might change your mind."

"He begged."

"Then what happened?" Morgana asked, sipping on her cocktail.

"I felt sorry for him, so I gave in."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You’re such a liar. You needed the money, and I offered more than adequate compensation."

"I don’t think there’s any amount of money that can compensate for what an ass you are. But—" Merlin shrugged. "I can’t deny the money didn’t make the job more attractive."

"You’re so married," Morgana muttered under her breath,

"Huh, what?" asked Arthur, glancing away from Merlin.

"I said, you’re so embarrassing." She rolled her eyes. "I can’t believe you’re my brother. Now come on, drink up. You’re taking me clubbing."

***

The next day, when crossing the plaza as he left the library, Merlin spotted a familiar blond figure up ahead.

Arthur.

Merlin hurried to catch him up.

"Hey, Arthur!" he called, grasping Arthur’s shoulder when he was close enough.

Arthur turned to face him, wearing the stupid Aviator sunglasses that he was convinced made him look hot, but Merlin had resolutely told him did not.

They made him look incredibly fuckable, actually. But he had a big enough head without hearing anything like that from a gay guy as well as the numerous women who swooned whenever they were in his general vicinity.

"Shh!" he said, holding a finger to his lips.

With a grin, Merlin matched steps with him.

"Feeling a bit worse for wear, are we?" he asked.

"Keep it down will you?" Arthur said with a groan. "Yes, I am. What the hell was in those cocktails and shots Morgana got us last night? Quite frankly, I’m surprised you’re not in the same boat."

Merlin felt a twinge of guilt.

He wasn’t in the same sorry state because once he’d woken up with a thumping headache and thrown up the entire contents of his stomach (mostly alcohol), he’d used magic to rid himself of his hangover. Arthur wasn’t kidding: Lady Morgana of Gorlois was a menace and a danger to everyone she met.

"Fast metabolism, I guess. Don’t worry, it’ll pass soon. Why don’t we go get coffee and some breakfast at the caff? That’ll cheer you up."

Arthur’s eyebrows raised astronomically high, disappearing under his fringe.

"Did you really just suggest that I, a prince, go to the ‘caff’?"

"I thought you wanted to be a man of your people, or something like that. At least, that’s what you told Morgana last night."

"I didn’t! Did I?"

"Oh, yeah," said Merlin, with an evil grin. "You talked all kinds of bullshit last night. Even told us about that time your friend Geraint made you streak across the campus of your boarding school. You’d have sung karaoke if I hadn’t dragged us both home."

"I would not!"

Merlin merely gave him a smug grin.

"Let us just agree Morgana is a menace. Come on, I need to get some coffee."

***

After that morning, they started to hang out more often, without the excuse of tutoring sessions. Arthur seemed strangely available compared to when Merlin had first started tutoring, when it was difficult to pin down a time when he could study.

Now he seemed to have free time whenever he wasn’t in lectures.

It almost felt like they were becoming friends, if one could become friends with a prince.

Arthur had started texting him for more than scheduling sessions. In fact, tutoring had become less frequent. Partly because Arthur didn’t really need the help anymore and partly because they talked more than Merlin taught.

And Merlin found to his surprise that behind the haughty dickish behaviour, Arthur was actually a decent and thoughtful guy. If you had told him that after their first encounter, Merlin wouldn’t have believed you. He had been convinced he’d dislike Arthur forever. But having spent some time with him, Merlin had come to unearth a different prince, the real one—at least, he hoped it was the real Arthur.

The student union was having a club night in one of the bars tonight. Arthur had messaged him about it, arranging to meet him there. Merlin was looking forward to it. His week had been busy and stressful with tests and exams, along with a deadline for a paper, and he was looking forward to letting his hair down somewhere private. It was all very well hanging out with a prince, but it didn’t half draw attention. Everyone was aware Arthur was attending the university, and his presence at events on campus barely caused anyone to bat an eyelid anymore.

He gave himself one last once over in the mirror, wondering if he had got things right with his outfit. It was tough to balance things. His outfit—tight black jeans and a purple button-down shirt—was a bit smarter than his usual clothing, but, he hoped, not so smart that it looked like he was putting in too much effort. His hair was a lost cause; he’d run a comb through it after his shower, but he knew the more he tried, the worse it tended to look, so it was best to leave it be.

With one last pat of his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed, he headed out to the club.

***

Arthur frowned at the knocking at his door. He was tired and hungover. He couldn’t quite remember all of it, but he and Merlin had had a hell of a night. Most of the campus had. He really couldn’t imagine who would be bothering him at this time in the morning after such a heavy night out.

Maybe it was Merlin coming to rub it in, he thought bitterly.

Merlin never seemed any the worse to wear for any of their exploits. Arthur couldn’t really fathom how he got so drunk, yet was happy and spritely the next morning.

He stumbled out of bed and made his way to the door, vaguely noting the absence of Lancelot yet again as his bed lay there unused, still tucked in neatly.

As he approached the door, Arthur smoothed out some wrinkles of his T-shirt and gave himself a quick glance in the mirror. He looked awful, but there was nothing for it. After running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to style it, he opened the door.

"Leon," he said, surprised. "Come on in. What can I do for you?"

"Thank you, sir," said Leon, slipping inside and closing the door behind him, "I've come to collect you."

"That’s kind, but I'm not going anywhere. I have a lecture in a bit, remember?"

"Your father has requested it."

Arthur felt his blood run cold.

What? Why the hell did his father want to see him? Last night hadn’t been that bad, Arthur was pretty sure of that. Besides, Merlin would have looked out for him regardless of how drunk he was. He was a good person with a moral and social compass that Arthur was becoming increasingly aware his old friends had been severely lacking in.

What was it with Arthur and choosing friends? It couldn’t be that hard to find decent people who would have your back, could it? He thought that he’d been getting wise to those who were just using him for his money and his title, but recent events had proved him wrong. Turns out, he was a terrible judge of character. What if he’d misjudged Merlin? What if Merlin was secretly using him like so many of the other two-faced people who surrounded him? How could he be sure that people were genuine?

A part of it, Arthur was sure, was the fact that he’d never been exposed to normal friendships. He’d never had any examples of what friends should look like. His father didn’t appear to have any, though he did seem to be wiser at figuring out those around him who were trying to use him.

Leon cleared his throat.

"Sir, if I may speak freely—?"

"Of course," said Arthur, motioning for him to speak.

"I would advise that you move swiftly so that we can leave as soon as possible. The King is not in the best of moods."

"Fuck," muttered Arthur. That didn’t sound good. "Fine, I’ll be ready in five minutes."

***

Arthur let out a long breath as they were given the go ahead to drive through the gates of Kensington Palace, readying himself for yet another fight with his father.

He’d done his best to wheedle out of Leon what, exactly, his father was mad about, but Leon had remained tight-lipped, which was rather unfair. Et tu, Leon? Arthur had thought that at least his bodyguard would be on his side, but no. Everything seemed to be set against him.

As they drove along the driveway, with Leon in the front and Arthur in the back, Arthur steeled himself and schooled his face to not give anything away to his father. He already had the upper hand; Arthur wouldn’t give him any more power in this conversation.

When the car stopped, Leon got out and opened the door for Arthur.

"Good luck," he said, sympathetically, as he walked Arthur to the door of the house.

Arthur sighed and gave him a nod. He was going to use all the luck he could get to get through this. His phone beeped with a message from Merlin, but after a quick glance he hastened to turn it off.

His father hated when people’s phones interrupted him. When he was younger, Arthur would deliberately leave it on to piss him off, but the idea seemed much less appealing today.

After giving himself a quick shake, he straightened his back and marched in the direction of his father’s office.

Better get this over and done with.

When he reached the office, he barely even paused before he rapped smartly at the door.

"Come!" Uther called.

Arthur opened the door and strode inside with a confidence he didn’t feel. Fake it until you make it, and all that.

"Arthur," his father said darkly.

He looked Arthur up and down, taking his state of dress and general appearance. Arthur couldn’t help but wish his father had chosen a bit later for this summons; he hadn’t stood a chance of meeting the king’s high standards at this hour. But that was by design. Arthur knew he’d never be enough in the eyes of his father, so eventually, he had just stopped trying altogether.

Uther got up from his desk and started to pace the carpet behind it.

"I suppose," he began, "you know why you’re here?"

"Well— I suppose it’s because of the—"

"You should have told me Arthur," he said, almost sounding jovial.

"I’m sorry, but what—"

His father produced yet another blasted newspaper and passed it to him.

Arthur’s stomach sank. When his father referred to the newspapers, it was never good news.

He glanced down at the paper in his hands, scowling with confusion as he read the headline and saw the pictures.

The headline read: The Prince and The Pauper, and the pictures… they were all of him and Merlin.

What?

"Father, I don’t understand. Merlin and I—"

"Yes, he seems like a nice enough boy, Arthur. A bit dim when I saw him at your dormitory. I don’t know why you couldn’t have told me then, rather than that ridiculous charade you put on about tutoring. It would be better, of course, if he were independently rich. It’s often difficult to tell if they like you or your money the best. But in this instance, I don’t think it’ll do any harm to string him on for a bit. In fact, I’m glad that, for once in your life, you’ve chosen to stop chasing after those idiotic rich boys who only want to be seen with you for clout and instead are focusing on a more sensible, down-to-earth lad."

"But Merlin isn’t—"

"And the press seem to love him, too. George tells me the morning shows are all swooning. If only he had some source of money. Nevermind."

"But we’re not—"

"We will need to manage this carefully, of course. But this could be just what we’ve been looking for."

"BUT FATHER! If you’d just let me talk!" Arthur all but shouted.

"Very well, Arthur. There’s no need to shout. Go ahead."

"This isn't what it looks like. You've all got the wrong end of the stick. Merlin and I, we’re friends. That's it! There’s no big story here. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean the press should get to speculate every time I so much as spend time in the company of a man! Also, as for being independently wealthy—he’s eighteen! He works already—a proper job. Not something handed to him by Daddy. What more do you want?"

Uther scowled. "So you’re not dating this boy?" he asked.

"No!" said Arthur, exasperated. "That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!"

His father hummed to himself. "In that case, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and date him, or at the very least, don't let on to anyone else that you aren’t."

"What? Are you crazy? No, I won’t. It’s bad enough that people are even thinking we’re dating."

There was a tightness in his chest when Arthur thought about telling Merlin, and how he’d react to the fact that, apparently, people thought they were together.

"That’s exactly why you should date. At least for a little while longer, then you can stop seeing the boy. Of course he’s not ideal, but we also don’t want to confuse people. This way, we can phase him out when convenient."

"Merlin is not some kind of toy or accessory to be used for this family’s image," snapped Arthur.

With a glower, Uther boomed, "You dare question me? All of a sudden you care what happens to this family? For years, I’ve been trying to get you to simply behave yourself. I will not have you squander the only piece of goodwill you’ve had in ages just because you’re concerned about this boy’s feelings. You will make him an offer; money, status, whatever he wants. Then, when all this fuss has passed over, you can break it off. Understood?"

Arthur opened his mouth to reply.

"Do not test me, Arthur. You will date this boy. Three months ought to do it. Then you’ll break up and this Merlin fellow can disappear, leaving you broken hearted. End of discussion." He folded the newspaper in half and placed it on the desk before reaching for a letter. "George will see you out."

***

Merlin stretched and immediately regretted it with the thumping in his head.

Dear God, he drank too much last night. At least he could magic the pain away. Just as soon as the room stopped spinning and he felt like he wasn’t going to throw up.

He waited a few minutes, groaning when the beeping of a message on his phone pierced his consciousness. It was time to push aside the pain and sluggishness of his hangover so that he could get rid of it.

He gathered his thoughts and murmured a few words, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt his magic flood through him, taking the hangover with it.

Getting out of bed after that was much easier. He sprung out of bed and padded over to the en-suite bathroom to relieve himself. His roommate, Will, had already left for the morning. He had the short straw of an eight am lecture on Thursdays, poor bugger. But that did mean Merlin had the room to himself for the morning, for which he was endlessly grateful.

He turned the shower on to heat the water whilst he brushed his teeth. The university building’s plumbing was shit, so it always took a while.

Once he was clean and showered, he headed out to the main room again, rubbing his hair with a towel as he contemplated his plans for the rest of the day. He had a Maths lecture before lunch, then another lecture in the afternoon. But apart from that, his schedule was free.

He should probably get some research done at the library for his next essay. Deadlines had a horrible way of catching up with him and he didn’t want to pull another all-nighter to get it done if he could help it. Even if the last one did consist of him relocating to Arthur’s room whilst they both typed away frantically, pulling their hair out and making each other endless cups of coffee until the blasted things were done. It was a good job Arthur’s roommate had as good as moved into his girlfriend’s shared house, because Merlin had been able to crash on his bed rather than hauling himself across the university back to his own room.

Pulling on some old jeans, a faded T-shirt, and a hoodie that had seen better days, he groped around for his books. After packing his backpack and checking he had his phone and wallet, Merlin opened the door.

But instead of a casual stroll to the library, he was greeted with a thousand camera flashes and trapped by a circle of reporters, some of whom even had TV cameras.

"Mr Emrys," a woman called to him, holding a microphone in front of him. "Is it true that you finally tamed the prince?"

"Mr Emrys!" yelled another. "What’s it like going out with Britain’s most eligible prince?"

"Mr Emrys, how did you meet Prince Arthur?"

"Merlin, was it love at first sight?"

"How does it feel to be a prince-in-waiting?"

"What?" said Merlin, staring around, half-blinded, in confusion. "I…? Arthur???"

His heart thumped in his chest and his hands grew clammy, it was getting harder and harder to breathe, let alone think.

Crossing his fingers that his magic would help him out for once, he tugged at the door, which had closed when he’d left for the morning.

Relieved when it opened, he dashed back inside, slamming the door behind him. He set the deadlock just in case. Anything to keep that baying mob out.

What the fuck! What the actual fuck?

Merlin slumped down on the edge of his bed, his bag abandoned on the floor as he tried to calm his racing heart. He felt shaky all over. What the hell was that all about? What was all that shit they were saying about him and Arthur?

He rubbed his face as he tried to put things together and figure out what was happening. Going to the library or doing anything that involved stepping foot outside of his room was clearly not going to happen.

He got up and walked towards the door to look through the peephole. Maybe he had imagined it all. He had been burning the candle at both ends a lot lately.

But staring outside just confirmed it was real. There was still a sizable group of people outside his room.

What did one do in circumstances like this? Should he call university security?

As he contemplated his situation and tried to figure out the possible resolutions, his phone rang shrilly, making him almost jump out of his skin.

An unknown number.

Always a risk. Especially when you had a baying mob outside your room. Maybe it was one of them. They seemed to have figured out where he lived easily enough. Why would they stop there? It wouldn’t be beyond them to find out his mobile number, either.

Maybe he should only answer known numbers for now.

Of course, it could be his mum. What if she’d lost her phone and had a new number?

Merlin hurried to pick up the call.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, Merlin, thank goodness you picked up. This is Elyan, Prince Arthur’s bodyguard. I’m calling to warn you not to go outside."

"It’s a bit late for that."

There was a pause.

"Oh dear," said Elyan.

"Yeah, so what should I do about it? They’re like a plague of locusts."

"Don’t do anything," Elyan told him. "I’ll get in touch with campus security and take care of everything. Don’t you worry. Just stay put, and I’ll let you know when the coast is clear. Oh, and Merlin? You might want to add my number to your contacts from now on."

"Thank you, Elyan."

Elyan was as good as his word.

Within an hour all the reporters had been cleared out, and Elyan had called him from outside his room.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. What was it all about though?" Merlin asked, holding the phone between his shoulder and chin as he unlocked the door to let Elyan in.

They both hung up.

"You really don't know?"

Merlin shook his head.

Elyan pulled his phone out again and opened a webpage to show him.

Merlin scanned the article for a few minutes, hardly able to believe his eyes. They fell on the pictures which accompanied the article.

There were multiple pictures of him and Arthur hanging out together, starting from the first time they went to get burgers and including a few that implied that they were more intimate. That wasn’t the case, of course, but he could see why someone would get the wrong end of the stick if they looked at the still images.

The photographer, whoever they were, must have followed them.

Had been following them for a while, from the looks of the pictures. They had to know the truth. They had to know there was nothing going on with them.

He carried on reading the article. The reporter noted that Merlin had been seen leaving Arthur’s room in the morning on more than one occasion, including an ‘incriminating’ picture.

Merlin felt sick as he handed the phone back to Elyan.

"But that’s not true. You know it’s not. Why would anyone do that to us? Why lie like this?"

"Because gossip sells. It’s all they’re talking about on TV today. I’d advise staying put if you can, until it blows over."

A swell of anger started growing in Merlin’s chest at the unfairness of it. His whole life was being turned upside down.

"They had no right to lie like this! It’s not fair!" he raged.

"I know."

"Is it always like this with Arthur?"

"He’s not exactly the… easiest client," Elyan said, diplomatically.

Merlin started to pace his small room. "And where’s Arthur? I want to talk to him."

"Apologies, but he’s with the King. Leon took him earlier this morning."

Merlin ground his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to calm himself. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper. Not right now.

"And, what? I’ve just been left here to fend for myself, have I? Whilst Arthur gets to be carted off by his father, hidden away from prying eyes."

"The prince will be returning to campus later today."

"Oh, but you’ll make sure he’s protected, won’t you? He won't have to fend off hordes of blood-thirsty reporters all on his own, will he?"

"That’s my job. Prince Arthur is my charge."

"I want to speak with him. He needs to sort this out. I can’t so much as leave my room right now. Goodness knows who’ll accost me."

"I’m sorry, Merlin. I truly am. I know that he wouldn’t have wanted this for you. But I'm just a bodyguard. The palace takes care of things like this. If you need to go anywhere though, I'd be glad to escort you to make sure you make it there safely. I can speak to the university security, too. It’s concerning that they never spotted that lot coming in. You have my number; give me a call anytime, and if I can, I’ll come and accompany you."

"Thanks, Elyan. You’re a good man."

Elyan gave him a nod before heading out the door.

And Merlin flopped down on the bed.

What a day.

***

It wasn’t until late in the evening when Merlin got a reply to one of the numerous texts that he’d sent whilst he was moping in his room with Will, eating a take away that Will had fetched for them.

Merlin hadn’t dared take a step outside his room after the morning. Tomorrow, he’d carry on. But today, he needed answers.

"I’m really sorry," said Arthur in his text. "I’m not at uni at the moment. Be back tomorrow, hopefully. Can we talk then? I'll explain everything."

Merlin threw his phone down on the bed beside him.

Was that it? Arthur had caused all this hassle for him and all he could do is tell him he’d explain later. What about him giving a statement, or whatever it was royalty or celebs did when they were involved in a media story? Why hadn’t the palace issued a denial? Could he issue a denial? How did one issue a denial to the media?

He was full of questions with no one to give him answers.

"What’s he saying?" Will asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"He’s not here. Hoping he’ll be back soon. Said he’ll talk to me about it then."

"Rich arsehole."

"Will!"

"All right, royal arsehole."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin picked up his own plate to continue eating.

Will had always been down on Arthur, even before he found out Merlin was tutoring him. Maybe he was right, though. Look at all that had happened. Merlin should have known better than to become friends with someone like Arthur. They were hardly in the same social circles. If it hadn’t been for Arthur’s struggles with Maths, he’d have no idea Merlin even existed, despite going to the same uni.

He should have known he’d only get burned by being friends with him.

"How did you guys even become friends anyway? I didn’t know you were hanging out with him now. I thought you were just tutoring him? Surely he wouldn’t be bothered about making friends with the help."

Merlin pulled a face.

"You’re being too hard on him. Arthur’s a decent guy. He can’t help the role he was born into," Merlin found himself saying. "It’s not his fault the press are parasites."

"Oh God, you really like him don’t you? Like, actually like him!"

"What!? No, absolutely not!"

Will was too damn perceptive for his own good.

Merlin kept his face down as Will snickered.

"Shut up."

***

It was late the next evening when Merlin next heard from Arthur.

He sent a text asking if they could meet in the cafe down in the basement of the library.

Merlin sighed, but changed and pulled on his coat to head out. He wanted answers. This was his chance to get them.

He made his way across the university, enjoying the cool night air. He’d gone to his lectures today, but he’d gone to and through from lecture halls and buildings as quickly as he could, utilising all his knowledge of shortcuts and covered walkways, even if he normally preferred to take the most scenic route.

Campus was almost deserted at this time of night, the library even quieter. So it made sense Arthur would choose here.

He stepped into the lift and headed down to the basement.

It took him a while to spot where Arthur was. Leon’s curly hair in the booth opposite ended up giving the game away. Despite his height, he was usually remarkably good at fitting in,

Merlin wound his way through the tables until he got to the back of the cafe and sat down heavily in an empty seat.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," replied Arthur.

He looked terrible, Merlin suddenly realised. Even when they’d been pulling all-nighters for essays or were hungover from a night of drinking, Arthur had always managed to look amazingly put together.

Merlin could feel his resolve melting and hastened to re-bolster it. He was mad at Arthur. It didn’t matter what he looked like. He had hung Merlin out to dry without so much as a warning text before swanning off to one of his many palaces.

He held his tongue—though he badly wanted to talk, he always did—wanting Arthur to take responsibility and be the one to start the conversation for once.

Crossing his arms, he slouched back in his chair, staring at the prince, resisting the temptation to raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"Merlin," Arthur began, licking his lips to wet them. Merlin hated the way his eyes followed the movement and forced himself to look at Arthur’s face again. "About yesterday…"

Merlin shifted, folding his arms more tightly. He was still not willing to budge.

"Look, I had no idea that the papers were going to run that story. If I had, I’d have let you know. Hell, if we’d known, then the palace would have paid them to kill the story off. They have before."

Merlin stayed stonily silent. This wasn’t making things any better.

"I didn’t know they would be able to get on campus. In fact, I had no idea it had happened at all until I switched my phone on and got the messages from you last night." He paused, then sighed and continued. "After the papers came out, my father summoned me. I had to go. I didn’t get a choice. He’s the king, for fuck’s sake."

Still, Merlin said nothing.

Arthur threw up his hands in surrender. "What did you expect me to do? Say no to my father? I don’t know what you want me to say, Merlin."

"Sorry would be a good start," Merlin said, finally breaking his silence.

Arthur’s jaw shifted mutinously as he thought about it for a moment, as though he was weighing up their friendship.

"I’m… sorry. Satisfied?"

"Not really. Why couldn’t you have called me or messaged me before you left and given me a heads up? Or at least responded to any of my messages in the past twenty four hours?"

"It was early and I was still asleep. I didn’t even know what it was all about until I got there. I thought my father was going to give me a bollocking—well, he always gives me a bollocking, regardless—but he didn’t. At least, not at first. And he hates mobiles. Forbids anyone from having one on their person in his presence. I was already in enough trouble, I didn't fancy pouring oil on the fire. I was being honest when I said the first I knew of your trouble was last night when I was finally alone in my room. The press are like fucking leeches. I hate them. But the palace seems to have a bit of a symbiotic relationship with them. They use us for sales, we use them for good press. It’s not healthy, but that’s how it works. If it helps, my father actually sees this as good publicity."

"Good publicity? How?"

"Come on now, Merlin. Surely you’ve seen the headlines over the past few years."

Merlin shook his head. "I’ve never really been one for following the news."

"Let’s just say I have a bit of a reputation in the eyes of the media and the public. My father tried to set things straight and set up an engagement for me with the daughter of one of his close friends. She was nice enough, but of course, everyone was so hung up on a playboy womaniser, they failed to notice it wasn’t women that I was seducing. A few months ago, the papers realised they’d be played a fool and published a rather… revealing exposé about it."

Merlin felt as though his eyes were going to bulge out of his sockets as he listened to Arthur’s tirade.

"I’m sorry, you’re gay? Since when? I thought you were straight!"

"Straight?" Arthur laughed. "I realised I was gay years ago. Told my father last year, but he ignored me, of course. But now that these stories have come out he can’t deny it anymore. So that’s one good thing that came out of them. I guess the press have been keeping their eyes peeled since then for any signs of a fling and mistook us for lovers."

"You’re damn right they mistook us. So when are you going to issue a statement to correct them?" Merlin demanded.

"Oh, no. The palace doesn’t comment on matters like this until people are officially together. They say they won’t debase themselves by listening to all the gossip and rumours."

"But Arthur, we’re not actually together. Why can’t you release a statement yourself?"

"It's just not how these things work. Besides, I have a… proposition. I could desperately do with some good public opinion right now. The reaction to this story has actually been really good. People like you, Merlin."

"None of them have even met me!"

"I know, but it’s true regardless. I wanted—well, it’s my father really—he wants to know what it would take for us to… continue dating. Just for a few months. Tuition, housing for the rest of your education. Whatever you’d like."

"The king wants me to date you?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Merlin, come on… at least give it some thought. You would be doing me a huge favour if you did. Like I mentioned, you’d be well-compensated for it."

"I said, no."

"Why? It’s not like you’re dating someone else, is it? Unless you’ve been hiding a boyfriend from me."

"I could do. Or maybe I have a girlfriend."

Arthur snorted and his eyes landed on the plethora of gay pride pins and patches Merlin had on his jacket.

"You know, you being an arse is really charming me. Carry on, by all means."

Arthur held up his hands, "I phrased that poorly. Let me try again. Since you’re not currently dating anyone, why not use your single status to work for you? Use it as an investment. You don’t lose anything from pretending, really; we already hang out a lot. People are presuming we’re dating. We could just carry on as we were and not correct anyone."

Merlin chewed his bottom lip.

He was of two minds; on the one hand, he was mad that this was even being suggested and at the idea that he would—whore himself out like that, because really that was what it was, wasn’t it? He'd be providing a service—albeit a non-sexual one—in exchange for cash or benefits. But, on the other hand, having his fees and board paid would be an incredible thing not just for him, but for his mother too. She had taken on a second job to help him financially with uni because she hadn’t wanted him to start his life with debt. If he did this, she could quit that job and take things easier like she deserved to.

"Well?" asked Arthur hopefully.

Merlin pushed himself away from the table and stood up, smoothing his jumper down.

"I’ll think about it," he said.

***

Arthur drummed his fingers, his pen remaining uncapped as he listlessly watched his professor giving a lecture without absorbing a single word.

It had been three days now since his conversation with Merlin. He didn’t think they’d been out of contact for that long since they went from tutor and tutee to friends. It made him nervous.

He thought he’d had a sleepless night before he’d come back to uni, worrying about how to talk to Merlin about the proposition.

But now he’d actually done it, he was sleeping even less.

He hadn’t wanted to do it. Not really. He hadn’t wanted to risk his friendship with Merlin and have things blow up in his face.

So much for that.

He had hoped at the very least that he might be able to salvage some kind of friendship still. But three days of radio silence sent a clear message.

Merlin hated him and didn’t want anything to do with him.

Arthur couldn’t blame him. He hated himself too.

It wasn’t like he could reach out, either. He didn’t doubt that Merlin would give him a taste of his own medicine and ignore any messages he sent, and he wasn’t about to bring the press baying to Merlin’s door by going to his room in person.

Besides, he still had some pride. He wasn’t going to beg Merlin or ask him again.

Best to leave things be. Eventually the press would realise the truth and that they had mistaken friendship for romance, and Merlin would be able to live a normal life again, with a crazy story to tell later in life about how people once thought he was dating royalty.

The lecture theatre was mostly empty when Arthur finally registered that the lecture was over and hurried to put his things away, noticing Professor Annis coming his way.

He stood up ready to leave, but he was too late.

"Is everything okay, Your Highness?"

"It’s just Arthur, please," he insisted. He hated how even here he couldn’t escape the formalities of his birthright.

"Okay, Arthur. Are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been a bit distracted lately, and your last assignment was not up to your usual standards."

Arthur knew that. Annis had returned his paper covered in corrections in her trademark purple ink. The comments and marking hadn’t been unkind. On the contrary, they had been helpful. But he had still done poorly.

"I’m fine," he said, forcing a smile.

Annis stared at him inquisitively. She had a way of looking at her students that went right to the core of them, as though she was contemplating something.

"Well," she said. "I’m glad that’s the case. But do know, my office door is always open should you need someone to talk to, Arthur."

He pushed down the lump that had risen in his throat. Why was she being so damn nice? Professor Annis had the undeserved reputation of being a hardarse. But in Arthur’s opinion, the reality couldn’t be further from the truth.

"Thank you, Professor."

As he headed out of the room, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a message from Merlin.

"Rising Sun at 8?"

And suddenly, Arthur’s week seemed a lot brighter.

***

Later that evening, a bit before eight o’clock, Arthur hovered around the entrance of the Rising Sun, a grungy pub which was a favourite of Camelot university students due to their cheap drinks and close proximity to most of the city’s nightlife.

He and Merlin had spent many evenings here getting drunk over the past few months. Arthur told himself that the fact that Merlin had suggested they meet here was a good sign that he might finally be forgiven.

That said, it wouldn’t hurt if Merlin could actually be on time for once. Arthur hated loitering outside buildings and avoided it whenever he could. He could never be sure whether he was being watched or not and hated how exposed he felt.

But he didn’t want to be the first one in the pub today. He wanted to know things were going to be okay and Merlin wasn’t meeting him here to chew him out. A stab of fear pierced his gut as he wondered if Merlin was standing him up as revenge. But Merlin didn’t seem the kind to be cruel like that.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Merlin making his way down the street. Arthur could tell by his gait that he wasn’t feeling as relaxed and confident as he was trying to portray.

Arthur gave him a tentative smile and he got a small one in return.

"Shall we go in?" he asked, opening the door and gesturing for Merlin to go first.

Leon caught his eye, giving him a nod from the car parked a little way down the street. Normally, Arthur tried to give him the slip, but today it had been comforting to know he was nearby if everything went to shit.

The noise of the pub hit them like a wall as they went inside.

"What do you want to drink?" Arthur called over the din of music pumping through the speakers and large groups of students that were all talking over it.

"The usual. Shall I see if I can find us a table?"

They found a small booth over in the corner of the pub which was perfect for their needs, tucked away from the rest of the room so it would be less obvious to anyone except those who passed their table that Arthur was in the pub.

"Thanks for the invite," he said, taking a sip from his pint and passing Merlin his. He took a seat and took a moment to take Merlin in. He was a sight for sore eyes. Arthur was as surprised that Merlin had shown up as he had been when he’d texted. He wanted to be sure he was really here.

Merlin gave him a curt nod.

"I’m glad you’re here, Merlin," Arthur said honestly, hoping that the conversation wasn’t going to continue to be as one-sided as this.

He watched and Merlin tapped his long, elegant fingers against the side of his glass.

"Does this mean I’m forgiven?"

"I guess so," said Merlin, finally speaking.

"Good."

Merlin chewed his lip for a moment before continuing.

"I’ll do what you asked," he added. "Pretend to date you. Like you said, we can just carry on like before."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Merlin. You don’t know how much this will get my father off my back. But are you sure? You really don’t have to."

"I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about it, and you made good points. Plus, I guess ultimately there’s no real harm in it."

"Well, just know you can back out anytime. No pressure."

Merlin nodded. "I know. So, how did you get on with that paper last week?"

Arthur groaned. "Terribly, it was almost as bad as I did at the beginning of term. I found it a bit difficult to focus on things the last few days."

"Mmm, I know what you mean. Will says I’ve been driving him crazy."

"Will?"

"My roommate. I’d say you should come over some time, but I think he hates your guts."

With a shrug, Arthur said, "You win some, you lose some."

Merlin laughed, a heavenly sound to Arthur’s ears, then he leaned closer so that they could hear each other better over the din of the pub.

"So," he said. "Tell me, what went so wrong with your essay?"

***

It took a while, but within a week or two, things were back to normal between the two of them. They texted and met up as much as they had before, and Arthur found himself with a new appreciation for the time that they spent together. Merlin was so sharp-witted and knowledgeable about some things and a complete half-wit about other things. He wondered how he had ever found him hard to talk to the other week at the Rising Sun, because he felt like he could talk to him forever.

In fact, sometimes they did talk way into the night, and more often than not, Arthur found himself losing himself to his thoughts about how lovely Merlin looked in the low lighting of the room as the shadows carved out the dips of his cheekbones and the hollows of his throat. He had always found Merlin rather striking, even at their first meeting, but it hadn’t seemed appropriate to seduce a tutor you had specifically asked your mate to get for you, so Arthur hadn’t pursued it. Nor had he really given it much of a second thought back when he was partying every other night.

As he’d started to distance himself from the party scene and knuckle down to actually achieve what he wanted to, however, he’d found a deeper appreciation of Merlin beyond the superficial, and he’d valued his honest, genuine friendship—the kind of friendship he’d never experienced before—above all else. He hadn’t wanted to ruin it. He’d almost lost it all thanks to the press and their stupid speculation. But now that they were fake-dating, he’d found his thoughts drifting back to Merlin again, wondering what it would be like if he did give in and tried to make a move.

"Arthur? Earth to Arthur! Come in, Arthur," laughed Merlin, waving his hand in front of his face.

"Huh?"

"You were miles away. I asked if you wanted to order some food."

Arthur glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

"Isn’t it a bit late to order food?" he asked.

"In most cities, yes. But not in a university town. What do you fancy?"

Arthur bit his tongue to stop himself from saying ‘you’.

He needed to get his thoughts and libido in check. They weren’t really dating. Merlin was his friend.

"I don’t know," he said, clearing his throat. "Whatever you want is fine."

An evil grin spread across Merlin’s face and he started swiping at something on his phone.

"Merlin…" Arthur said, suspicious. "What are you ordering…?"

He started to reach for the phone, and Merlin backed away from him.

"Uh-uh, you said whatever I wanted was fine."

"You better not be ordering from that god-awful vegan deli!"

Arthur continued getting closer, hoping to bide his time to grab the phone.

Merlin danced out of his reach.

"I might be…"

"Merlin!"

Arthur pounced, sending Merlin tumbling onto the bed behind him, and Arthur ended up sprawled on top, still trying to reach for the phone.

"Merlin, give me your phone!" he gritted out.

"Nope, not happening!"

As Merlin wriggled beneath him to stretch his arm further away, Arthur suddenly realised how his body was reacting, and by the look of horror in Merlin’s eyes, it looked like he had become aware of it, too.

Arthur hurriedly withdrew and sat heavily in his computer chair. Awkwardly, he flattened down his hair, wishing another part of his body worked the same way, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he turned away.

"You—you order from wherever you like," he croaked, as he pretended to check his university emails.

***

It was almost forty-eight hours after the incident before they started messaging each other again, and the humiliation of knowing Merlin knew how he’d reacted still made Arthur flustered. He couldn’t understand it. He’d liked other guys before, loads of times. He’d never felt like this before, though.

It was confusing and embarrassing.

Merlin didn’t need Arthur making things stupid and complicated. He was doing this as a favour, along with a nice stipend which should allow him to live out his uni days rent- and debt-free.

It was stupid to be developing feelings now. Not when Merlin clearly wasn’t interested, given how horrified he’d been. The whole evening had been incredibly awkward.

And besides, this whole fake-relationship thing was going to be over in a few months. Though Arthur hoped they’d still continue to be as friendly as they’d always been, maybe Merlin would decide they’d be better off not being friends anymore if he thought Arthur was perving over him. Not that Arthur had been perving over him. Well, not that much. Nor that often. At least, not that often when Merlin was around.

He needed to be more disciplined.

After pacing his room and driving Lancelot—who was having a rare evening in their room without Gwen—around the bend, Arthur finally messaged Merlin asking if he wanted to go for a drink.

Lancelot breathed a sigh of relief.

"Shut it," Arthur told him sternly.

"I didn’t say anything!"

"No, but you were thinking about it," Arthur said grumpily.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and straightened the collar of his shirt.

"You look fine," Lancelot told him. "Besides, Merlin would like you in anything. Or out of anything, for that matter."

"What?" said Arthur with confusion. "Don’t be stupid."

"It’s true. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Arthur."

Arthur snorted. "When? You’re always with Gwen."

"I’ve seen you both together often enough to know."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur replied, "You’re delusional. Anyway, I’m going out. See you later, yeah?"

***

The pub had been an excellent idea. Even if Arthur had been accosted by a couple of groups of giggling women who had wanted pictures with him.

The royals tended to avoid things like selfies if at all possible. It was seen as undignified. But Arthur was feeling reckless and needed some way to say ‘fuck you’ to his father now that it seemed like the worst of his partying days were over, so he had recently just started saying yes, instead. Of course, the word spread like wildfire and that had led to even more pictures.

Merlin, of course, ribbed him for it.

"Are you playing celebrity now then?" he teased, as Arthur sat down with their drinks, having finally made it back from the bar. "You used to tell me selfies with fans were for reality TV stars and social media whores. Which are you?"

"The Royal Family is the OG of reality TV," Arthur pointed out. "I had my first public picture plastered over the world’s media when I was less than eight hours old. We invented reality TV."

He felt the old familiar simmering of anger as he recalled how his mother died soon after at the family home, having been rushed home too soon, everyone eager for her to show the baby to the media as soon as possible… He’d blamed himself for her death for so long growing up. A part of him still did, even though logically he knew he couldn’t have prevented his own existence.

Merlin looked sad, but thoughtful too. Arthur could tell that he was pitying him, and hated it. He’d had so much pity in his life, he didn’t want Merlin pitying him too.

"It must have been hard growing up like that," Merlin said.

Arthur shrugged. "The money and the privilege makes up for it," he responded, trying to push the conversation away from sympathy.

"Does it really, though? When I first met you, I thought you were a rich, elitist prat with the biggest privilege known to man. But now, I dunno. Since I’ve got to know you better, I can see you’re not. Well—I mean, sure, you have money. And you were given all the advantages of the upper classes—but there’s so much more to life than that. You had to grow up under such a spotlight. I’m sure… I’m sure the death of your mother only amplified that. I don’t feel sorry for you, exactly. But it makes you more… approachable knowing your life hasn’t been a bed of roses. It makes me appreciate my own life more. Sure, Mum and I didn’t have much money. And we didn’t have a big house or servants. I didn’t go to a private school. I never knew my father. But it didn’t matter because we had each other. She never had any expectations for me, other than wanting me to be happy."

"And are you? Happy, I mean."

Merlin paused, contemplating the question for a moment. "I’m not sure yet."

***

The next morning, Arthur had a call from his father.

He was to attend an event at the palace the following weekend where there was a dinner for the President of France. He wasn’t looking forward to it. These kinds of events were always dreadfully dry, surrounded by old white men who wanted to talk about business and investments, as well as international policy. Hardly something an eighteen year old wanted to talk about.

He’d been lucky once or twice in the past when there had been a hot intern in a foreign dignitary’s entourage and they managed to sneak off for a snog and a handjob. But there was never a guarantee of that, and the idea itself felt lacklustre when he compared even getting off with another hot guy to spending time with Merlin.

He let his head fall to the desk with a thud. He was so stupid. This whole thing could go nowhere. Yet here he was, playing along.

"Oh, and Arthur?" said his father.

"Yes, Father," he said, only just stopping himself from sighing.

"Tell me, does that Merlin boy own a tux?"

Arthur thought about Merlin. He hardly dressed at the height of fashion when they were going out clubbing, and he was a poor university student. Arthur doubted he’d ever worn a tux, much less owned one.

"I doubt it. Why?"

"Because you’ll be bringing him with you. Nevermind. It’s probably better this way. Take some measurements and have Leon arrange something."

"What?" said Arthur, suddenly fully alert. He should have been paying more attention. "That’s not what we agreed. Merlin’s not a part of the family. He shouldn’t have any royal duties."

"Yes, he’s not officially, but it won’t be a bad picture to paint. Geoffrey says he’s proving rather popular. It will help generate a bit of excitement about the event. As you well know, the President and his staff are all dreadfully dull. I’ll see you both Saturday morning. I’ll have George make arrangements with your people."

"But Father—!"

It was too late; his father was already gone.

Arthur was still tugging at his hair, wondering what to do, when there was a knocking on his door and Merlin let himself in.

"Hey, what’s up? You look awful."

"Thanks," said Arthur sarcastically.

Merlin headed over and perched on the edge of Arthur’s bed.

"Sorry. What I meant is, you look upset. What’s wrong?"

"My father."

"When is it not?" said Merlin dryly. "What have you done this time?"

"Nothing! He wants me to come to a state dinner on Saturday."

Pulling a face, Merlin kicked off his trainers and climbed up on the bed.

"Bad luck," he commiserated.

"You should keep some of the sympathy for yourself, Merlin. My father asked if you had a tux."

"If I had a tux? Why would I need a—"

"You’ll get there. I believe in you."

Merlin’s eyes widened comically large.

"Oh, no," he said. "Absolutely not!"

"Come on, Merlin. Please?"

"No way. Not doing it."

"But my father is expecting you."

"I don’t care that your father’s expecting me. I don’t care that he’s the King of England! I’m not going."

"Please? I’ll be bored out of my skull without you there. You wouldn’t condemn me to death by boredom, would you?" Arthur asked, giving Merlin his best pout.

The corner of Merlin’s lip twitched, and Arthur could tell his pleas were working.

"I dare say you’ll survive it," Merlin said evenly.

"There will be free food. And as much booze as you can possibly drink."

"Will there be beer?"

"If you want it," Arthur replied, knowing that if, indeed, he put his foot down, someone at the palace would find him some.

But mostly, he was relying on getting Merlin rather merry at the champagne reception first, so that he’d be okay with drinking anything so long as it was alcoholic. His preferences always went out of the window at that point in the evening, replaced with drinking whatever was cheapest or available.

"Fine," Merlin said. "I guess I’ll have to hear you complain about it one way or the other. I might as well be wined and dined and treated like Cinderella whilst I’m putting up with you."

"Then you shall go to the ball!"

***

The week passed quickly enough, what with Arthur ferrying Merlin off to a tailors in the nearby city twice; first for measurements, and secondly to try on the final product.

His eyes had almost fallen out of his head when he saw the price labels on some of the off the rack suits the shop had on their shelves. He couldn’t imagine how much one tailored specifically for him would cost.

He’d never had a proper suit before. The closest he’d got was a black one his mum had bought him from M&S when he was fifteen to go to the funeral of one of her friends, Alice, who’d been like a grandmother to her. This was a far cry from that.

"I look ridiculous," he said flatly, looking at himself critically in the newly tailored tux.

He didn’t look bad, exactly. Just not like himself. It was almost like looking at another person, and he didn’t like the way it made him feel.

"No, you don’t. You look— it looks great. You’ll fit right in."

That’s what Merlin was afraid of.

His eyes met Arthur’s in the mirror for a moment before Arthur turned away, clearing his throat.

"Let’s get this paid for," he said. "Go and get changed; I’ll settle the bill. Oh, and what’s your shoe size again?"

They ended up walking out with the new suit and a couple of pairs of dress shoes.

"Arthur, this is too much! Why on earth do I need three pairs of shoes? I only have two feet!"

"I’m aware of that, Merlin, unless you’re magically hiding some from me," said Arthur. Merlin bit the inside of his cheek. Arthur's comment was a bit too on the nose for his liking. "But my father is likely to want you to attend more such events. So I took the liberty of ordering a few more suits for you. Goodness knows your wardrobe could use them."

"It really doesn’t. My wardrobe is fine."

Arthur snorted. "Yeah, if you’re thirteen, maybe."

"You’re such a snob. Come on, let’s get back. I need to finish my essay if I’m going to be attending to posh people this weekend. Then after that I could do with a stiff drink." He could see Arthur smirking out of the corner of his eye and gave him a gentle shove with his elbow, which Arthur immediately returned. "Now who’s being thirteen."

"I’ll text you later, then," Arthur told him when they parted ways.

Merlin walked back to his room with a bounce in his step.

***

Arthur was as good as his word, texting later in the evening just as Merlin was doing a final proofread of his essay before calling it done.

A friend of Lancelot’s was throwing a house party in their shared house and apparently they were both invited, along with half of their year, or so it felt like when they’d shown up at the house.

Merlin wasn’t sure how it wasn’t asking for trouble having such a big party. But Lancelot explained how almost all the houses in this area were owned by the university and rented out to students. Most of the other residents were at the party itself.

He took them inside, showing them the kitchen where they added their beers to the rest of the alcohol that was slowly accumulating there, before he disappeared off to find Gwen.

"Doesn’t it strike you as weird," Merlin said, over the noise of the music blaring in the next room from one of the roommates, who was apparently a DJ, as he opened a bottle of beer. "To be in someone else’s house when you don’t know anyone?"

Arthur shrugged. "You know me," he said. "And Lancelot. Plus I’ve kind of got used to it. I used to get invited to all sorts of places."

"Used to?" Merlin asked, hauling himself up onto the countertop, his legs dangling. "What happened?"

"I guess I outgrew those kinds of friends."

He reached past Merlin to grab a bottle, and they found themselves face to face, their noses inches apart.

Merlin could feel Arthur’s breath on his face as he exhaled softly.

He stared at Arthur, who stared back at him, feeling as though they were on the precipice of something.

The door opened and they sprang apart as the other person walked in Arthur leant against the counter, opening his beer.

"Come on, let’s go find Gwen and Lancelot," he said, tugging Merlin along by his sleeve.

Merlin busied himself with dancing and getting to know Lancelot and his girlfriend better. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she was funny, quick-witted and a great gossip. He could see why Lancelot liked her so much. Merlin couldn’t remember seeing someone as besotted as Lancelot was about Gwen. It had been bad enough on the nights when Lancelot had been waxing poetical about her back in his and Arthur’s dorm room, but in person their love-eyes would have been sickening if they hadn’t been so sweet together.

He and Arthur found themselves discussing the couple as they sat out on the wall surrounding the front garden, out in the cool night air. It had a sobering effect, and Merlin’s ears appreciated the relative silence.

"I knew that Lancelot was down bad for her, but not that bad," Merlin said. "I don’t think I've ever seen two people more in love."

"Mmm. Definitely a case of love at first sight. Marriage material, the pair of them, mark my words. They’ll still be married when they’re old and grey."

They fell into a comfortable silence as Merlin thought about what it would be like to find The One. The person you felt like you could spend the rest of your life with. He’d have to find some men open to dating him first.

"What about you?" Arthur asked.

"Huh?"

"What kind of guy do you see yourself marrying?"

"Not sure. Someone who wants me would be a good place to start. I’ll go from there. Who knows, maybe I’m not the marriable type."

Arthur chuckled. "Any man would be lucky to have you by their side, Merlin," he said, his breath misting in the night air.

"Arthur, I—" Merlin licked his lips, hesitating, not sure if he should continue. Fuck it, he might only get one chance. "Back there, in the kitchen— when we… what happened there?"

He watched as Arthur looked down at his hands, playing with the ring he always wore on his thumb.

"I don’t—"

A boy darted out of the house barrelling right towards them, forcing them apart before throwing up right by their feet.

Arthur danced out of the way of the worst of it, but Merlin wasn’t so lucky.

"Ugh, gross!"

"Come on. Follow me, I’ll get Leon to take us home. Good job I bought you all those shoes, huh? And you thought you'd have no use for them."

Arthur started to walk away, leaving Merlin staring after him, his heart sinking into his sick covered shoes. He’d been so close to finding out if that moment in the kitchen had been what he thought it had been.

"Merlin," Arthur called. "Come on!"

***

The next morning, Merlin woke up tucked into his own bed with not much of a memory of anything beyond the chat in the kitchen. He muttered a spell to help ease his headache before hobbling to the ensuite bathroom for a glass of water.

He kept replaying the moment in his head over and over as he brushed his teeth. At the time, he’d felt sure that Arthur was about to kiss him, but now he was sober in the cold light of day, he found himself questioning everything. Maybe he had imagined things.

It was probably best forgotten. Especially with the dinner to attend tonight. He didn’t want things to be awkward; he was going to be feeling out of place enough without Arthur dashing all his hopes as well.

His phone bleeped with a message from Elyan. They were going to be picking him up in half an hour.

Better get a move on, then.

Merlin took the chance to have a shower, where he absolutely didn’t get off embarrassingly quickly to the thought of sharing it with a certain blond prince.

When Elyan knocked on the door, Merlin was ready with a backpack for his overnight stay and his new tux carefully draped over his arm inside its garment bag. Leon took them both from him before he got into the back of the car with Arthur.

"Morning!" said Merlin as he climbed in and buckled himself in.

"Shh," Arthur chided him from behind his Aviators, looking a little green around the gills.

Just how much had they drunk last night?

"I bet you guys found it hard to get him out of bed this morning," Merlin grinned.

Leon raised an eyebrow, but remained loyally and characteristically quiet.

Elyan was decidedly more chatty.

"Leon dragged him out of bed and forced him to take a shower, and I packed his bag," he said.

Arthur’s brow scrunched in a scowl, and he turned away from them all to look out of the window.

"Okay, everyone got everything?" Leon asked, as though he was the dad of a car of kids.

If Merlin and Arthur were honest, that probably wasn’t far from the truth. Leon certainly had a few more years on them. Thus, he was the responsible one.

Merlin gave Arthur a few surreptitious glances as the car started to make its way to London, wondering what he was thinking about. Had he been thinking about their almost-kiss too? Or had he not given it a second thought?

And what exactly was he going to be expected to do tonight? Merlin wasn’t usually the type to get nervous, but he challenged even the most fool-hardy person not to be nervous in the face of being an official guest at a state dinner. Not even just a guestーthe date of the Crown Prince, and, presumably, though hopefully not, to be in the presence of King Uther too.

Merlin had never met Arthur’s father, save for the brief moment when he’d walked in on them months ago, but even on TV he had seemed to be an intimidating figure and his image had not been improved in Merlin’s mind by the things that Arthur had told him. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to any more potential encounters with him.

It made him glad that he didn’t have a dad of his own to worry about. Just a mum who was the most understanding and supportive person that Merlin had ever known. Though they were poor, he’d never felt like he’d lacked anything growing up. It was hard to compare to Arthur, who likely had truly never lacked anything growing up—except perhaps a maternal presence, and perhaps a paternal one a lot of the time.

Merlin prided himself on having a good imagination, but even he couldn’t imagine that King Uther would have been the most loving of fathers. Then again, he must have had a lot on his plate being the king and after the loss of his wife so unexpectedly. Merlin’s mum still gets misty eyed at the mention of Queen Ygraine. Merlin hadn’t really connected the event with Arthur until he had known him for quite some time. It was hardly difficult to imagine why Arthur had turned out the way he had.

"How long will we have until the dinner?" Merlin asked.

Arthur sighed deeply.

"Fortunately, Father considers me too young to be responsible for greeting arriving dignitaries at the airport, at least until I’ve left university, so we are spared that. We will need to greet him when he arrives and before the guests get there, but once they arrive from the airport there will be an arrival ceremony with both nations' national anthemsーhonestly, it’s very boring. Then he’ll probably want us to meet the President over lunch, but I think I can get us out of that. After lunch, they’ll look around the Royal Collection and Father will hold a few hours of diplomatic meetings. Then we will be expected to join them, probably around five o’clock or so, for a pre-dinner reception for all the guests attending the dinner, then we finally get to the dinner itself. At least there we’ll have plenty of wine to drink."

Merlin’s mind whirred at the amount that he was supposed to do and his chest tightened. Thus far, he had felt on a fairly even footing with Arthur, despite their differences in station. But he was so out of his depth here he felt like he was drowning.

"Don’t worry," Arthur said softly, drawing Merlin from his thoughts. He focused firmly on Arthur’s face. "I’ll do most of the talking. Just follow my lead."

"I really don’t think I’m cut out for this, Arthur," Merlin confessed, feeling silly and childlike in a way he hadn’t in years. There was nothing he’d experienced thus far in life, no skills that he possessed that could help him prepare for what was ahead. Why had he said yes to this?

"Merlin," Arthur said, reaching out and grasping Merlin’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "It’ll be fine. I’ve seen how you are with people; they love you, and for good reason. You’re smart—despite what I say about you—you’re lovely, generous, entertaining and a powerful speaker. You’re going to be fine. You’re ten times cleverer than most of the uptight bastards I meet at these things. They all think they run rings around me and that I’m dumb as a brick, and sometimes it’s just easier to let them think that I am."

Merlin tried to absorb everything Arthur had said while simultaneously wanting to pretend he hadn’t said it. Did he really believe all of that?

"Well," he joked. "I didn’t want to say anything, but…"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Merlin. Or I’ll throw you to the wolves."

When they arrived at the palace, the gates opened smoothly, granting their car entry, and they pulled up in front of one of the towering buildings.

Elyan jumped out, opening the door for them to exit. Merlin tried to make his way to the boot to pick up his things.

"This way, you idiot," Arthur hissed, his eyes darting around the place. "Come on."

He tugged on Merlin’s sleeve as he gazed around in amazement at their surroundings, and led him up some stairs to the entrance where Leon had opened the door for them.

Glancing over his shoulder, Merlin scowled as he watched Elyan opening the boot, along with another man who was taking their luggage out.

"Prince Arthur, Mister Emrys," said a mousy, brown-haired man, dressed immaculately. "It's a pleasure to see you both. Your Highness, His Majesty, would like to see you."

Arthur nodded, and Merlin felt ridiculously underdressed for the occasion given everyone they’d met so far, bar Elyan and Leon, were dressed in smart uniforms.

"Of course George, it’s good to see you too. Lead the way."

Merlin could barely stop his jaw from dropping as they were led through corridors of wooden panelling and gold accents, passing by large rooms decorated with what he was sure must be antiques. If he was a character in a story, he would be pinching himself right now to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He knew that Arthur was royalty, but he hadn’t seemed that way, not really, when they had been getting to know each other. He’d just seemed like a posh git. It was hard to think of him as a prince when they were both attending the same university. But now that life seemed like a million miles away. How strange and alien must it have been for Arthur when he’d arrived at Camelot to slum it with common people when he was used to living in places such as this?

Eventually, after George had led them through several floors of the palace, they stopped in front of an ornately carved door.

George paused for a moment before knocking politely.

"Come!" called a voice from inside.

George pulled the door open and stepped into the room.

"His Highness Prince Arthur and Mr Merlin Emrys to see you, sir," he said with a bow.

"Ah yes, Arthur. Come in," said the king, rising from his desk.

George ushered them both in, before retreating and closing the door behind them.

Glancing behind him, Merlin felt as though he’d just been closed inside a lion's den.

He did his best to stand and look respectable as he waited for someone to speak.

"Hello, Father," Arthur said, shaking the king’s hand before they hugged briefly.

Merlin watched on with surreal bemusement. This was so bizarre. The king here in the flesh, hugging Arthur, who was his son.

He’d seen King Uther once before, months ago when he’d walked into Arthur’s room unannounced. He’d been so taken aback then he’d been barely able to speak. At least he was prepared this time, though that did little to help him wrap his head around things.

"It’s good to see you," Uther said. "And you’ve brought your friend with you. Welcome, Mr Emrys."

He offered his hand, and Merlin shook it.

"Sir. Your Majesty," he said, making a poor attempt at a bow. He always seemed to get it muddled up with a curtsey.

"Come on through and we’ll have tea. You must tell me how university is going, Arthur."

He led the way to another door and walked through. Merlin followed Arthur’s lead, and inside was a rather cosy room that was somewhere between a library and a sitting room. It probably had some posh name like saloon.

King Uther sat down in a large leather chair and gestured to the other two around the small table, already set with a teapot, china and a selection of petit fours.

Merlin sat when Arthur did and hoped he wouldn’t have to say much. He was relieved when the conversation about Arthur’s schooling seemed to exclude him. He didn’t get away with it for long, however, as King Uther soon turned his attention on him.

"So, Mr Emrys, how did you and Arthur meet?"

"Oh it’s Merlin, please," he said, adding, "sir" as an afterthought. He glanced at Arthur, wondering how much he wanted his father to know, but Arthur motioned for him to speak freely. "Arthur needed some help with his maths course, and we had a mutual friend who knew that I tutored people, so he asked if I would help out. And I was glad to."

"And you’re still tutoring my son?"

"Well, not really—sir." He was starting to get the hang of addressing the king properly now. "He doesn’t really need it now. He seems to be keeping up with the course. Now I’d say we’re more friends than anything else."

The king hummed to himself.

Conversation continued between father and son, father seemingly satisfied with Merlin’s answers for now.

After interrogating Arthur about his studies, grades and social life, the king finally rose from his chair.

"Well, I expect that you gentlemen have other things you’d rather do than spend the whole day with me. Why don’t you go and get settled in and I’ll see you at the reception this evening?"

Arthur grinned widely, "Yes, Father. See you then."

And before Merlin knew it, they were dismissed.

***

"Well, that didn’t go too badly," Arthur said, as they walked away from King Uther’s rooms and towards another wing of the palace.

Merlin hummed. "It did go better than I anticipated."

"That’s because he’s pleased with me. If he wasn’t, then he’d let us both know about it. That’s why he let us out of the luncheon today. Now we don’t have to do anything until this afternoon."

Arthur opened a door and let Merlin go first.

Inside was a much sparser, more modern room than much of the rest of the palace. It looked like something out of an interior design magazine or a showroom.

As Merlin looked around the room, he noticed his backpack and suitcase placed neatly by the door.

"This is my room," said Arthur.

"It’s… different."

"Yeah, I couldn’t be doing with all that hoity-toity stuffy antique stuff. I had it remodelled back when I was a teenager. All the original fittings were preserved and moved elsewhere. I just wanted something practical. Eventually I wore Father down, though to be honest I think he thought I was going to wreck the place and better it be this than something of real value. Either way, it feels a heck of a lot more like a home than the rest of this place."

Merlin nodded and went to pick up his stuff, looking around the room.

"So, um… where should I put my stuff? Is there another bedroom or—?"

"No, it’s just my bedroom and a bathroom in here. I can ask the staff, though, and they’ll sort you out another room. I guess it’s just that they think we’re together… so they thought we’d be sleeping in the same, uh," Arthur cleared his throat, "room."

"Oh, well—"

"Don’t worry, I’ll ask Leon about it. He can arrange something discreetly, I’m sure."

"No, no. It’s fine. Just chuck me a pillow and a blanket and I can crash on the floor."

Arthur cuffed Merlin around the head. "I’m a prince, Merlin. I’m not going to have you crash on the floor. The bed’s plenty big enough;you’ll barely even know you’re sharing. Just leave your stuff here and I’ll take you on a tour."

***

It was noon by the time that Arthur had finished showing Merlin around the place. He had had so much fun telling him stories of growing up here and various pranks and jokes he’d shared with the staff when he had visited that the time had flown by.

They had finished up in the kitchen, where Mary, who had been the palace chef for as long as Arthur could remember, greeted them curtly.

"Keep your hands off my food. This is all for the King and his guests only. If you’re hungry, go and see Freya. She’ll set you up with something."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Mary had always hated him, ever since he was old enough to open the door. She hadn’t ever hurt him, but he still remembered being frightened to death on more than one occasion after he’d taken one of her infamous strawberry tarts and she’d chased him from the kitchen, brandishing a ladle. The only reason he’d dare ever return was because of a kindly old lady called Finna who always snuck him some kind of sweet treat, or was willing to make him his favourite dishes when he had refused his dinner.

He looked around, trying to remember which of the women was Freya and wondering if she’d be as nice as Finna. Unless she was extremely new, he must have met her at some point; it was customary for him and his father to meet all of their staff at least once, but it did lead to rather a lot of faces and names to remember. Fortunately, that was one thing that Arthur usually excelled at.

He was about to admit defeat and ask Mary to direct them when a petite woman with her dark hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail glanced up and smiled at them both.

Ah yes, that was Freya.

"Come on, over here," he said to Merlin as they weaved around tables set with all kinds of tempting food ready to be served. "Freya, Mary sent us your way. Do you have our lunch?"

"What he meant to say," Merlin interrupted, "is would you be able to tell us where we might be able to get something to eat, please?"

Freya’s cheeks pinked, and she smiled shyly at Merlin.

"Of course, Your Highness," she bobbed a curtsey. "And sir."

Then she scurried off to another part of the kitchen.

"It’s not difficult to be polite you know," Merlin told him. "I was always brought up to think that prince’s were polite and handsome."

"Well, at least I meet one half of the criteria," Arthur said with a wink.

He kept half an eye on Mary, wondering if he might be able to snag something off of one of the plates whilst her back was turned.

Best not to tempt fate. Arthur would not be surprised if the older woman really did have eyes in the back of her head. She seemed to know everything that happened in her kitchen.

Soon, Freya was back with plates of delicious-looking sandwiches and pastries, similar to the spreads set out for the king and his dignitaries. Much to Arthur's delight, there were a few strawberry tarts amongst them.

"Thank you, Freya," said Merlin with his most winsome grin. A grin Arthur was starting to think he'd do anything to have directed at him. "Why don't you eat with us, if you're due a break?"

"Oh, that would be nice. If you didn't mind, of course?" Freya said, blushing again.

"Of course not, or I wouldn't have asked. Right, Arthur?" Merlin said, nudging Arthur with his elbow.

Freya looked at them, clearly astonished at the familiar way Merlin was speaking with Arthur. He was sure she'd never heard anyone talking to him the way that Merlin did. It just didn't happen. The staff all observed the correct manners and etiquette, and other people were often too awestruck to be anything other than formal.

"Right," Arthur confirmed.

"Well, if you're sure it's okay? We're ready, though Mary will still fuss over everything like a mother hen, and we still have some time before service starts. So, sure."

She took them over to the table at the side of the kitchen where the staff took their breaks, and soon, Merlin and Freya were chatting away like long-lost friends.

Arthur clenched his fists under the table, not liking how he felt, but not sure how to prevent it.

The admiring looks that Freya was giving Merlin weren't helping matters either. Merlin seemed way more friendly with her than he'd been with Arthur when they were starting to get to know each other.

Arthur ground his teeth and took a few deep breaths.

He had no claim on Merlin, not really. Their 'relationship' was purely for show.

Merlin was free to pursue whoever he wanted, if he so chose.

It was confusing, though, because he had been sure Merlin was gay. But maybe he wasn't. After all, he hadn't specifically said so, he had just been surprised that Arthur was. There were the rainbow pins and patches on his favourite jacket, but that could mean any number of things.

And when he had first proposed their arrangement, Arthur had called Merlin on his lack of a boyfriend, and there certainly had been an absence of any mentions of previous girlfriends.

He'd thought being gay would give him a better gaydar than this. He had been so sure. But now he was wondering if he'd just made assumptions and he was kicking himself for not asking outright.

He continued listening to them as he ate his lunch, contributing to the conversation only when strictly required, silently willing the lunch to be over.

He couldn't blame Freya. Who wouldn't like Merlin? But he couldn't make himself warm to her, either, when all he wanted to do was grab Merlin by the arm and drag him out of the kitchen. But that would be undignified, and Merlin certainly wouldn't appreciate it.

By the time they'd finished, Arthur was only slightly consoled by his favourite dessert when Merlin and Freya exchanged numbers.

"Well, she was nice," smiled Merlin as they headed back to Arthur's room.

"Yeah, nice."

"I can't believe that her mum comes from the same area as my mum. I wonder if they still know each other? I'll have to ask Mum when I call her tomorrow."

Arthur nodded mutely.

"So, what should we do before the reception starts?"

An idea crept into Arthur's head of a way that he could have Merlin entirely to himself.

"Tell me Merlin, have you ever ridden a horse?"

"What? A couple of times. Why?"

"You'll see."

***

"...And here are my horses," Arthur said as they rounded a corner of the stables.

Arthur was correct. Apart from a stablehand, who was hanging around in the office, they were alone here, everyone else preoccupied by other events of the day.

"This one here," he said, patting his steadfast, placid black stallion, "is Hengreon. And troublemaker here—" The other horse, a dappled brown mare who was as mischievous and tempestuous as Hengreon was calm, was currently tugging on Arthur's sleeve before sniffling his face. "—is Llamrei."

"Your horses have Welsh names?" Merlin asked him.

"Well, I am the Prince of Wales."

"They seem nice," Merlin said, approaching Llamrei with trepidation.

Llamrei was undeterred by Merlin's apprehension, though, and happily nuzzled his face.

"She likes you!' said Arthur, delightedly.

Llamrei had always been a good judge of character.

"Well, she's a, uh, nice horse," Merlin said, giving her withers a pat.

"Fancy taking them out for a ride?" Arthur asked, as he realised how much he missed riding when he was away.

"Oh I don't know. It's been ages since I rode a horse. Like, really little, I don't really know how to ride a horse."

"That's okay; I can show you. Come follow me, and we'll get you some tackle sorted."

They returned with harnesses and saddles in tow.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Merlin asked. "What if I fall off and hurt myself? I'm more than capable of that you know, and then where would we be?"

"It'll be fine, Merlin. Don't be a wuss. Llamrei might be a bit of a terror in the stables, but she's a sensible little horse when someone is riding her. Well," Arthur corrected himself, "when someone she likes is riding her, that is. She'll make sure you're okay. Now, let me show you how to tack up."

True to his word, Llamrei was a perfect, patient angel as Merlin got to grips with horse riding again. Arthur would have been suspicious of her behaviour any other time, but he could tell that she was enjoying herself.

He sighed wistfully as he watched Merlin grip the reins, his hair scrunched by his riding helmet, the afternoon light highlighting his incredible cheekbones and perfect lips.

If only this whole thing wasn't for pretend.

If only Merlin really did want him and wanted to be by his side whilst he battled his father's rules and stupid insistence on tradition and the malicious press that spun their own stories about him.

If only.

Arthur took him through the woodlands near the stables on the estate. He would have loved to have kept them out for the rest of the afternoon, but he knew that that wouldn't be permissible, nor were either of them dressed for a day of riding. Perhaps another time.

Or perhaps not.

Maybe he and Merlin would be "broken up" by then and there wouldn't be another time.

The thought made Arthur nauseated.

"We should get back," he called to Merlin. "Race you?"

"Hey, wait, that's not! Arthur, I can't—!" Merlin spluttered.

But that was all Arthur heard before he kicked his heels and Hengroen raced off at a pace, the wind whipping at his face and his hair as they went.

He only had a short wait at the stables before Merlin returned on Llamrei. Arthur knew the small mare well and had complete faith she'd take care of him and bring him back to the stables.

The ride had been thrilling and reinvigorating, and Arthur felt much more himself for it.

Merlin practically tumbled off his horse, and Arthur thought he might be in trouble until he saw the wide grin on his face. He pulled off his riding helmet and ruffled his dark hair.

"That was amazing!" he said, his face flushed with colour. "I can see why people like horse riding now! I could never really see the appeal before."

"Ah well, I did tell you Llamrei is a good horse. Let's get them back inside for a quick rub down, then we can go get ready."

Their fingers brushed as he went to take the reins from Merlin, and Arthur held his breath as their eyes met.

He cleared his throat and turned to lead them back inside.

"This way."

He showed Merlin how to remove Llamrei's saddle and passed him a brush to give her a rub down before he returned his attention to Hengroen. He was so involved in his own thoughts that it took him a while to realise that Llamrei was fussing for Merlin.

"No, not like that," he said, coming over. "She prefers being brushed like this."

He grasped Merlin's hand and showed him the direction and swiping pattern Llamrei preferred.

When he loosened his grip, Merlin started to imitate the movements.

"That's it," murmured Arthur.

In his attempts to demonstrate, he suddenly realised that they were standing extremely close, his fingers still wrapped around Merlin's.

Merlin stared at him, his eyes darting to Arthur's lips.

"Merlin, I—"

They were a hair's breadth away from something when Leon burst into the stables.

Arthur dropped Merlin's hand as though burned.

"Ah, Your Highness, there you are. The King was getting concerned about your absence. I should have known you'd be here. It's time to get ready for the reception."

"Ah, well, yes. Of course." Of course Leon would interrupt them just when they were on the brink of something. He sighed. "Lead on, Leon."

As they walked back to the palace, Arthur couldn't help from thinking about what had happened back in the stables. Had Merlin been about to kiss him? Because that's what it had felt like.

The world's worst timing from Leon though. Or perhaps best, if Merlin didn't feel the same way.

Arthur was glad that Leon kept up a friendly chatter all the way back to his rooms, explaining what the plans were for the evening.

"...I've laid out your suits for you, ready for the reception. You're expected to meet in the Blue Room at 5pm sharp where you will both meet the President and his son. The Lady Morgana will also be in attendance with Lady Morgause and Lord Odin of Cornwall—"

Dear God. Morgana alone was bad enough, but with her half-sister and sleazy soon-to-be brother-in-law, this event was bound to be intolerable. Arthur hadn't exactly been looking forward to it before, but now it was going to be torturous.

Arthur started mentally calculating how long they'd have to be there and figuring out possible ways to escape his half-sister’s advances.

"—Arthur? Prince Arthur, sir, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes. Fine."

"Very well. I'll leave you two to get ready then."

After Leon left, the room fell silent. Arthur looked up to see Merlin studying him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Merlin. "It's just you have some—dirt—here."

He reached out and smoothed his thumb over Arthur's cheek.

Arthur's breath stuttered. "Uh, oh. Um. You, uh, you too."

"I guess we should wash up then," Merlin said, letting his hand fall from Arthur's face.

Arthur shook his head gently. He needed to get a hold of himself.

"Yeah. You go shower first. Honestly, Merlin, you look like you've been rolling around in the stables with the horses. Go on. It's over there, there should be plenty of towels."

Arthur gave Merlin a shove in the direction of the ensuite bathroom to get rid of him.

He sighed with relief as he sanking down onto his bed. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers as he tried to figure out what was happening.

He couldn't tell whether he was imagining things. Was there something between them or not?

The last thing he wanted was to misread things and ruin what was the most valuable friendship he thought he'd ever had by doing anything stupid.

He knew his father expected him to stop being friends with Merlin at the end of this farce. He figured he would just pretend, as his father would likely never concern himself with Merlin again so long as Arthur was doing well with his studies and keeping out of the papers. But if he read this wrong, then Merlin would take the decision out of his hands.

Maybe it was just being here that was messing with his head for some reason. He hadn't been this confused back at university. There had been more distractions there. More people, more things to think about. Here it was really just him and Merlin most of the time. Maybe all he had to do was get through the next twenty four hours, then they'd be back at uni again and he could put all these feelings behind him and things would go back to normal again.

He sighed to himself and switched on his phone to check for any messages. They were far fewer than they used to be these days since he had exiled himself from his old group of friends. There were a few good eggs who had known him for years, but he couldn’t say that he was particularly close to any of them, even if they would probably have his back if he got in a bind.

Then he started checking his social media—a private account, of course—to see what the latest scandal or news was. As he mindlessly scrolled through his feed, he couldn’t help but think he would have been better off going first. Waiting for Merlin to be finished was torturous. He would much rather be distracted from everything by getting dressed as Merlin showered, but now it was going to be the other way around.

Arthur got to his feet and started to pace his room, until eventually he hovered around the window that looked down on the gardens of the palace. People were hurrying to and through the gates as they carried out their duties for this state visit. He knew that most of them took their duties very seriously.

Some time later, he jumped as the bathroom door opened with a click, and his heart skipped a beat again at the sight of Merlin peeking around the door. He was dripping wet with a towel around his waist and his clothes bundled into his arms.

"Sorry, I forgot to bring my suit in with me."

"That's—that's fine," said Arthur trying and failing to avert his eyes. "Why don't you get changed in here whilst I go shower? I’ll be right back."

Merlin left the bathroom, watching him with confusion as Arthur hastened to remove himself from the room.

Once inside, he closed the door with a sigh of relief. Just one more night. Less than twenty four hours now. He could do this.

***

If Arthur had had trouble averting his eyes when Merlin had left his bathroom, that was nothing compared to when he saw him in his tux. Merlin always looked good, but in the tux he was devastatingly handsome.

"What?" Merlin asked, as Arthur stared at him. "Have I done something wrong? Did I do the bow-tie wrong? I mean, I watched some YouTube videos and tried it with a regular tie, but I probably got it wrong. I did, didn’t I?"

"No, no. It’s fine. You just… you scrub up well, that’s all."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess a poor kid from Wales couldn’t possibly know how to dress nice."

"That’s not what I mean! I meant you looked good. That's all. Anyway, let’s not argue, we have to get going."

Once they were both dressed and ready, Arthur led them off to the reception party, where things were already in swing. His father spotted them almost immediately and summoned Arthur over to him.

"Sorry, excuse me for a moment," Arthur said to Merlin before heading over to his father.

He hoped that this wouldn’t take too long.

"Arthur, glad you could make it," said his father curtly. That was a rebuke if Arthur had ever heard one, polite and pointed given their company. "I wanted to introduce you to President Aubert and his son Etienne. Etienne will be studying at Camelot next year. Jean and Etienne, this is my son, Prince Arthur."

"Good to meet you," said President Aubert, shaking Arthur’s hand.

"Prince Arthur," said Etienne genially with a hint of an accent, as he took Arthur’s hand and as their eyes met, Arthur was immediately taken aback by how handsome he was. Most of the time, diplomats’ children were dull, drab things immaculately dressed in the latest fashion, but plain none-the-less. Etienne looked like he was a model who had walked out of a magazine. "It is a pleasure to meet with you. I hope that we may become friends when I attend Camelot University in September."

"I—uh, yes. That would be nice."

"I’m sure that Arthur would be delighted to give you a personal tour, Etienne," said Uther.

Etienne gave Arthur a wink. "I look forward to it. Perhaps we could talk more about it at dinner tonight?"

"I’m not sure if we’re actually sitting—"

Uther clapped Etienne on the back. "An excellent idea. I will arrange it. In fact, perhaps you should get to know each other now. I’m sure you would prefer younger company compared to spending time with us older folks."

"Actually Father, if you’ll excuse me, I need to return to Merlin."

"Hmm, yes. Merlin. Of course."

Arthur took his father’s moment of disapproval to give them all a nod of acknowledgement before he slipped away through the maze of people and went in search of Merlin.

***

Merlin didn’t even get a chance to get a word in edgeways before Arthur had sailed off without him, heading towards his father. He’d thought they were supposed to be there as a coupleーor at least, that had been the arrangement. Of course, it was all for show. They weren’t really. So he didn’t know why he was feeling so hurt about being ditched so unceremoniously at the first opportunity. Worse still was the fact that he didn’t know anyone here and didn’t really even know where he was or how to excuse himself, so it seemed as though he was trapped there until whenever Arthur deemed to acknowledge him again.

A woman passed nearby with a tray of champagne flutes, and Merlin accepted one gratefully.

He watched from a distance as Arthur greeted his father and the man he was with.

He almost dropped his glass when he saw the way Arthur responded to the younger man with him. He could have at least pretended that he didn’t find the man attractive. He’d never reacted that way to Merlin. Still. If that was who Arthur wanted, fine. As far as Merlin was concerned, he’d fulfilled his side of his obligation. He’d continued to pretend to be with Arthur and attended this event in the guise of his boyfriend, but once this was over they could cut ties and Arthur would be free to chase all kinds of hot guys without Merlin to hold him back.

Merlin turned away and started to look around the room for a doorway that might lead to a hallway or a room to retreat to, since he obviously wasn’t needed here.

He spotted some curtains partially drawn across one of the vast windows that almost stretched from floor to ceiling.

Once safely inside, Merlin drew the curtain closed behind himself.

It was the perfect spot to pass the time for this reception. Once it sounded like it was ending and dinner was starting he’d make his way to the dining hall—wherever that was—and play the happy couple with Arthur if that’s what was required. Then he’d ask Leon to take him back to Camelot.

He felt happier now that he had a plan. Things were always easier to follow when you had a plan. Now he just had to pull himself together and try and get back out there again, acting unaffected.

But that was easier said than done, and Merlin was finding it hard to gather up the determination to do it.

He gazed out of the window, which looked out over a lawn and garden that were immaculately maintained, just like everything else in this place. He didn’t belong here. How could he possibly have ever thought he might belong here? That he might have had a chance with Arthur?

They came from completely different worlds, and real life wasn’t like some big Hollywood movie where the handsome jock would come and sweep the nerdy girl—or in this case, boy—off their feet. It just didn’t happen, and Merlin was kicking himself for ever having allowed himself to entertain such thoughts.

Arthur belonged with a gorgeous man like the one he was talking with right at this moment. In fact, if the man was suitable, Merlin would bet good money on Arthur’s father—the King—would be angling to fix them up. Provided they were rich and had status, of course.

Merlin was just convenient. Wrong place at the wrong time, and since he had somehow struck a chord with people, he was stuck in this stupid palace. His fairytale night was fast turning into a horror story.

He knew that he was being stupid and melodramatic. But he couldn’t help but think that he had earned the right given all he’d been through lately.

His only solace was that his mum would be able to take things easy and stop running herself into the ground to help him pay for his education.

Whatever he thought of Arthur, he knew that the prince would be as good as his word and make sure Merlin was adequately compensated. So at least there was that.

He just had to get through this evening.

"Oh," came Arthur’s voice from behind him. "Here you are! I've been looking for you."

Merlin took a deep breath and carefully kept his back to him.

"Well, you found me," he said, proud of how steady his voice was.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked.

At least he had some emotional awareness.

"You know, for a moment I thought you might have run away," he joked.

"Well…" said Merlin as light-heartedly as he could. "The idea was quite tempting."

Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, forcing him to turn and face him, and Merlin prepared himself for the performance of his life.

"You didn't really think about leaving did you? Have I upset you somehow?"

"No," Merlin lied.

Arthur studied his face and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't know that I believe you. But I won't press the matter further. We should be free to do as we like until dinner." He grimaced. "Though I can't say that that will likely be a particularly pleasant event."

"How do you mean?"

"My father intends on changing seating arrangements and seating us with the president's son, Etienne. They're sucking up to him for some reason and he's encouraging it."

"And that's a problem?"

"Of course it's a problem! I don't want to be seated with him all night."

"You don't? I would have thought you'd prefer it."

"Merlin! You can't possibly think I'd prefer spending time with a stranger I just met at my father's behest compared to spending time with you, can you?"

"He's just… he's handsome and stylish and he looks like he belongs here. And I'm just… me," Merlin admitted. "Why would you possibly want me?"

Arthur made a strangled noise. "Because you're Merlin! Why wouldn't I want to spend time with you? You're smart, funny, caring, generous, honest, interesting, and attractive too! I don't know Etienne from Adam. And you belong here because I want you here. You're—you're my— We're friends. And I care about you."

Merlin frowned, thrown for a loop. Arthur hadn't ever expressed such strong feelings for him before. They were friends, yes. And somehow they got on well. But he had honestly thought, when it came down to it, that Arthur could probably take him or leave him.

"Oh, I didn’t know you felt that strongly."

With a shrug and a wry grin Arthur said, "Neither did I. Okay, now it’s your turn to compliment me."

"No, I don’t think I will. You get enough compliments just for existing. I’m not going to inflate your ego further. You’d never fit through the door."

"Is that so?"

"Yup."

"And you see it as your job to take me down a notch or two, I suppose?"

"It's a tough job, but someone has to do it," grinned Merlin, as he realised he was rather enjoying himself again now it was just the two of them.

"Why you little…"

As Arthur petered off, Merlin suddenly became aware of how close they had become, with Arthur pressing him up against the window.

They stared at each other for what felt like forever, and Arthur’s eyelashes fluttered as he leaned in closer, tilting his head. Merlin angled his face to meet Arthur’s, his heart thundering in his chest as he barely dared breathe.

But just as their lips met, they both jumped as the curtain pulled back, bursting their bubble as they sprung apart.

‶Oh, here you are, Arthur. We’ve been searching all over for you.‶

A woman with wavy blonde hair stared at them, her lips a vibrant red and her intense brown eyes glaring at them both in a way that seemed to be boring into their very souls.

Arthur grimaced. "Hello, Morgause, where’s Morgana?"

"Hello to you, too. And who is this?"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur replied, "Don’t be stupid, Morgause. You know who he is, if not from the papers then I’m sure my father has filled you in,"

"Mmm, Merlin, the university boyfriend. Welcome to the family, dear."

She held out her hand to Merlin, who took it and shook, feeling very bewildered. He was pretty sure that Arthur didn’t have any other family. He’d googled him a few months ago to make sure there weren't any more nasty surprises, or at least, nothing he’d previously not been privy to.

"Ah, there you all are," said Morgana. "Hello, Merlin, dear!" She pulled him forward and kissed him on each cheek. "I see you’ve already met my sister?"

"Sister!?" Merlin turned to Arthur. "How many secret sisters do you have!?"

"Oh, we are not related," said Arthur and Morgause in unison.

‶She’s Morgana’s half sister, not mine,‶ Arthur explained.

Morgana sighed and rolled her eyes. "If we’re quite done with the family dramatics, dinner will be served soon; we should go and take our seats. I had Father sit you with us so that we could catch up."

Arthur smiled tightly. "Catch up. How lovely."

"Please," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I know that you’ve missed me really. And you’ll have to tell us exactly how you two met. I still don’t believe all that silly hogwash of tutor-turned-friend-turned-lover narrative the papers are all spinning. I know a coverup when I see one. Come on. Let’s go."

***

The meal passed pleasantly enough. The food was unlike anything Merlin had ever seen or eaten before, it tasted incredible, and Morgana was as entertaining, sarcastic and sharp-witted as ever. Merlin couldn’t help the way he liked her, especially when she needled Arthur into a reaction. Morgause was more sullen and sharp-tongued. They reminded him of a photograph and a negative, different both physically and personality-wise, but somehow complementary. Merlin made a mental note never to cross either of them.

Poor Etienne was quite out of his depth; even though his English was impeccable, he was simply no match for Morgana and Morgause, and thus was frozen out of much of the conversation.

It took until the third course before Morgause finally turned her attention to Merlin.

"So, Merlin," she asked, swirling the wine in her glass. "How did you and Arthur really meet? You can tell the truth; we're all friends here."

Merlin put his knife and fork down and glanced at Arthur, who was no help.

"Oh, well, you see Arthur wanted a tutor to help him along with the mathematics part of his degree and our friend Lancelot saw that I was doing some tutoring work to help put me through uni, so he asked if I would consider tutoring his friend. He didn’t tell me exactly who it was at first. Probably for the best. I think I would have run for the hills."

"Gee, thanks!"

"Anyway, I turned up and found it was Arthur. I declined the job at first. But eventually I decided to give it a go because, well, I needed the money really and the money offered would allow me to take on fewer students whilst I studied. So it was a win-win, really."

"That’s a cute story, but no, Merlin. Not the press story. I want the real one," laughed Morgause.

Merlin frowned, "But… that IS the real story?"

She turned to Arthur. "Come on Artie, tell me the truth."

"That is the truth. No parties, no sordid events. It happened just like Merlin said, and things went from there."

Merlin took a deep swing of his drink. "Now that you’ve asked a few questions. I wonder if I can ask you guys a few in return?"

"Of course," Morgana said with a swish of her hair. "I have no secrets."

"You keep calling Arthur your brother. But as far as I can tell, Arthur’s never had a sibling. And Morgause is your sister. How does that work? I’m trying to figure it out."

"Ah!" she said. "Well, yes. I said that I don’t have any secrets. I can’t say that of the King and his ilk. I am what used to be referred to as a bastard child. Uther, not that he’ll ever acknowledge it officially, is my father. So that makes Arthur and I half-siblings. Morgause and I grew up together and have the same mother. I forgot you’re new to these circles. It’s a well-known secret in the upper classes and the media. They don’t speak of it for fear of Uther, but he doesn’t scare me. In return for not going public with my story, he maintains mine and my mother’s lifestyle. Like you say, it’s a win-win."

"Oh, um. That’s, uh—"

"It is what it is," Arthur cut in. "Though I can’t say I enjoy having a sibling, I suppose things could be worse."

"Ugh, you’re a heartless brute. I know you care, really."

***

The rest of the night passed in a bit of a blur. There was a lot of meeting and greeting of all kinds of dignitaries and posh people, lots of drinks being brought around on silver platters, and lots of laughing at jokes Merlin didn’t always understand. Everything was so new and so luxurious compared to what Merlin was used to, he may have overindulged a tad.

He started to lose track of it all, until finally, when the party—a dignified one, not a raucous one—started to wrap up, they stumbled back to Arthur’s room. It was mostly a joint effort as they clung to each other and somehow figured out how to put one foot in front of the other.

The last thing Merlin remembered was how soft Arthur’s pillow felt against his face.

The first thing he remembered when waking the next morning was how much his head hurt. Then how bright everything was. And then wondering what the shrill noise was that was piercing his skull.

It wasn’t until someone reached over him, fumbling around for the phone that was blaring on the nightstand, that he realised he wasn’t alone.

He froze when he felt that same someone pressing against his back, until they realised what had happened too and sprung away from him.

"Shit, sorry," came Arthur’s apologetic voice.

Merlin relaxed minutely knowing it was Arthur and not some random guy. At least it could be worse.

"S’okay."

There was a long pause as they both lay there. Merlin wracked his brain trying to think of the best way to start the conversation that they clearly needed to be having.

"So, we should probably talk, huh?" Arthur said.

Merlin rolled over to face him and almost immediately regretted it. This conversation would be so much easier without having to look Arthur in the eye.

"I—"

There was a smart rap at the door.

"Your Highness, the car is leaving in fifteen minutes!" called Leon through the door.

"For fucks—!" exclaimed Arthur, kicking off the covers and climbing out of bed. "I swear if he wasn’t my bodyguard, I’d murder him with my bare hands."

He cast a look around and grabbed a neat pile of clothes on a chair nearby, throwing the bundle Merlin who was still in bed.

"We need to hurry if we want to make sure we’ve got everything before we leave. We’ll have to talk later."

"What?" said Merlin, confused not only by the sudden turn of events, but also by the sight of Arthur standing there in nothing but his boxers. He felt like he was entitled to be befuddled.

"Leon is taking us back to uni. I have lectures later this morning," Arthur told him. He pulled some clothes out of a dresser and started to tug on a pair of jeans.

"It’s too early," Merlin whined, his head still throbbing from his overindulgence the night before. "Can’t we go later?"

Arthur shook his head and then, sadly, pulled a T-shirt on, covering up his extremely nice chest.

"I fucked around too much at the beginning of term. I need to attend all the rest of my lectures this term, otherwise my lecturers will fail me. Now, come on," he said as he tugged at the duvet.

Merlin clung to it tighter. "Just leave me. Elyan can take me home."

"Nope. If I have to suffer, so do you. Now get up before I drag you out of bed."

"You wouldn’t," Merlin said, narrowing his eyes at him.

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "Try me."

Merlin had half a mind to force Arthur to wrestle him out of the bed, but tempting as it was, they really needed to get going. Instead he got up with a groan as he rubbed his forehead. Any other morning, it might have been worth it, but not when he felt so rough that he might hurl at any given moment.

Both dressed, they spent a frantic few minutes gathering and packing their belongings before they were being whisked off in a car back to Camelot.

***

After returning to campus, Merlin didn’t see Arthur for a few days, both of them busy writing essays, revising and attending lectures.

In fact, the next time he did see him was by pure coincidence when he bumped into Arthur—literally—at one of the coffee shops on campus.

"Hey!" exclaimed Arthur. "Oh, I should have guessed it was you."

"Sorry."

Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed a serviette to mop up the coffee that had spilled on his jumper.

"It’s okay, you can’t help being a clumsy buffoon."

"So, how have you been?" Merlin asked.

"Yeah, I’ve been good, but busy. Revising for end of term exams and all that. You?"

"Same," Merlin replied, cringing internally.

Why was this so awkward all of a sudden? For all their flaws, he and Arthur had never had problems talking with each other before. It was like they’d had a break up or something.

Merlin firmly refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room of the events which had happened back at the palace. It was irrelevant. Those were different circumstances. The palace felt like a whole other world that existed independently of this real one Merlin had always lived in.

Here he was just plain Merlin and Arthur was less of a prince. But he still didn’t know how to approach having a proper conversation.

Arthur was the one to break the silence.

"Look, do you want to go get a drink somewhere this evening? Or maybe dinner or something?"

"Why?"

Arthur groaned. "You’re not really going to make me say it, are you? Fine; I think we need to talk."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so I’ll swing by your dorm around seven then?"

"Okay."

Arthur grinned and ruffled his hair.

"Though on second thoughts, maybe I shouldn't. You’re much quieter when you’re flabbergasted."

"Shut up. And yes, seven is fine."

"Perfect. Until then…" Arthur said, giving Merlin a wink and blowing him a kiss.

"Fuck off!" called Merlin, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

***

Merlin couldn’t focus for the rest of the day, and he wished they’d made plans for sooner rather than later.

He had to ask a friend to borrow their lecture notes because he hadn’t been able to concentrate on a single word their teacher had said. He’d gone to get lunch, only to find he couldn’t really stomach it.

Arthur was probably going to let him down gently. That had to be why he wanted to do this privately. At least he was sparing Merlin the embarrassment of telling him he wasn’t interested publicly. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to deal with that; it would have been such a dick move. It was the kind of thing Arthur probably would have done back when they first met, but he had grown as a person since then.

And at least Merlin didn’t have to worry about the lost revenue from tutoring; the money he’d been promised for his tuition had already been deposited in his account. That had been a tough one to explain to his mother, who had scolded him over the phone for even considering it, but had now actually quit her second job. That fact alone would make the heartbreak and loss of Arthur’s friendship worth it. And hey, it was a great story to be able to tell people when he was old and grey, about how he had once pretended to date a prince.

He jumped when something light hit the side of his head.

"Stop brooding," said Will, who had a collection of balled up paper next to him at his desk. "He’s not worth the mooning, not if it means you’re going to flunk your courses."

"I’m NOT mooning, and I won’t flunk my courses. I did my essay already."

"Then why are you brooding? And don’t tell me you’re not."

Merlin closed his mouth and huffed through his nose. "I’m really not. But Arthur wants to meet tonight ‘to talk’, and we both know what that means. He’s going to try and let me down gently."

"Ouch, that’s tough. I’m sorry, I know that you really liked him. But it’s not like it was ever a serious thing, and you were aware of that. At some point you were going to outlive your usefulness. At least you got more from it than just a broken heart, which is more than some people can say even about real relationships. Text me afterwards. I’m almost done with this, and we’ll go get pissed to drown your sorrows."

"Thanks Will, you’re a good mate."

Will gave him a nod before turning his attention back to his laptop where he started typing furiously.

On his desk, Merlin’s phone beeped at him.

His heart thudded in his chest. What if Arthur had changed his mind about doing this in person and was instead going to dump him by text? He wasn’t sure which was worse. It would probably be easier for him to be dumped that way, but he wasn’t prepared to make it easy on Arthur. There had been moments when Merlin was sure that Arthur had been feeling what he’d been feeling too, and he wanted Arthur to deny it to his face rather than getting off by dumping him and then avoiding him forevermore.

"You won’t find out what he wants if you don’t look at it," prompted Will.

"Well, maybe I don’t want to know what he’s said."

"That won’t change that he’s said it. I always think these things are like plasters. Better to rip it off quick and get the pain over with as soon a poss, rather than dragging it out for longer. You’ll get over him eventually."

Merlin hummed, tapping his fingers on his desk for a few moments before he snapped the phone up and saw that the message was indeed from Arthur.

He opened it.

"Can we take a raincheck? Apparently my father needs to call me about something important. I promise I’ll come and see you as soon as I can."

"What’d he say?"

He read the message out for Will before tossing his phone back on the desk.

"Well, it could be worse. He could have dumped you by text. Remember when Laura did that to me?"

"That was different. You were being a dick."

Merlin grabbed his phone again, his fingers itching to reply.

First he typed ‘Don’t bother’, before deleting it. No, that was too harsh. It was his anger talking and he knew he’d regret it. ‘Okay, talk soon!', no. That made him sound like too much of a doormat. He needed to strike just the right balance of acceptance, whilst demonstrating his disappointment. He wanted Arthur to feel at least a little bit guilty.

He typed; ‘K’, then hit send.

"So what’s the plan then?" asked Will.

"I guess I just have to wait."

Will pulled a face.

"All right. If that’s what you want. But don’t wait all night, yeah? I should be finished in a couple of hours; if he hasn’t shown his royal arse before then, how about we go get drunk?"

"Sounds perfect," Merlin replied, wondering if Will would have to make good on his promise.

***

Arthur sat on his bed, waiting. He’d been waiting for fifteen minutes already and wasn’t sure how much longer he could take. Earlier in the evening, he’d received a text from George telling him his father would be calling this evening. He had hoped that it would be earlier in the evening than this, but his father could never be reasonable. He’d insisted on seven o’clock, so Arthur had been left with no choice but to delay his meeting with Merlin.

Even though it was a familiar position to be in—he’d been waiting for phone calls from his father since he’d started school—it never failed to make him feel like a naughty school child waiting to be told off by the headteacher. He was sure no one else ever felt like that about their fathers. But then, very few others had a monarch for a parent. As much as he had messed around and tried to defy him, Arthur could admit that a part of himself craved a normal familial relationship. He craved warmth and kindness and support like so many other normal people he’d met at uni had. Lancelot, when he wasn’t with Gwen, went home to spend time with his parents at least once every month, when Mrs DuLac would send him home with piles of clean clothes, a batch of fresh, home cooked meals and countless other baked treats. Arthur ached for that. But he knew he was aching for something he’d never have.

He’d had nurses and nannies growing up. There had been some he’d become fond of, but it hadn’t been the same. It wasn’t the same. Those people had been paid to care, and if they hadn’t, they’d never have given a fig about him. That wasn’t their fault, and Arthur had never blamed anyone for it. But the desire to be loved for who he actually was, not who he appeared to be, would probably be forever present.

He wondered what his father was going to scold him for this time. He couldn’t think of any new recent infractions, and he’d presented himself well enough at the state dinner, chatting genially with Merlin and Morgana along with other attendees. He couldn’t recall insulting anyone, even if he had ended up a little sozzled by the end of it.

There hadn’t been any big socialite parties that he’d attended. He’d avoided those ever since someone—he suspects Cenred—sold him out to the papers when he’d hooked up with that Michael kid. And he hasn’t missed them. He realised now that he’d never really enjoyed that kind of lifestyle; it had been a good way to rebel and pass the time when he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge his life.

When he looked back at who he was, he found himself disliking himself more and more, especially when he viewed himself through Merlin’s eyes.

He’d never have thought that Merlin—nerdy, studious, funny Merlin—would ever like him, much less respect him. But just when he thought that he’d finally earned his friendship, he couldn’t help but feel like it all might be tumbling down.

Life was so unfair. He hadn’t chosen any of this. From the moment he’d existed, his life had been spread out for him, all planned down to the finest detail. He’d already thrown one spanner in the works, but once again, his father had set down a new roadmap, making yet more decisions for him.

Other people might think him lucky for his privilege, but Arthur would swap it all in an instant for the chance to live his own life, rather than the one his father planned for him, the one which he was told was in service to his people.

When his phone finally rang, he was so distracted that he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Hello, Father," he greeted him.

"Ah, Arthur. I’m glad you’re available." Like he had any choice but to be available, Arthur thought bitterly. "I want you to come and see me in the morning."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want you to come back home. I have something important to discuss with you."

"No," said Arthur, feeling a surge of stubborn determination bubbling up inside of him.

"No? You dare tell me no?"

"Yes," Arthur said honestly, "I do. I just got back here, and I’m trying to study and live my life. I have other things in my life that I need to deal with. I have lectures, essays and other coursework. To say nothing about how you keep interrupting my personal time with my friends at the worst possible moment. I’m tired of putting things off." Arthur thought of all the moments with Merlin that had been interrupted and how things might have been different between them if his circumstances were different. "I may have to do what you ask of me officially, because of who I am, but I still have the right to have my own life and not be at your beck and call every time you fancy summoning me before you. If this business of yours is so urgent, then we can discuss it over the phone. It’s simply not possible for me to attend to you at this moment."

There was a long pause at Uther’s end, and Arthur wondered if he’d pushed too far. He hadn’t meant to say all of that. He’d lost control of his mouth and his brain, apparently, and there was bound to be hell to pay.

"I can see that I have caught you at a stressful time. Very well, I suppose this conversation will do just as well over the telephone as in person."

"Thank you, Father."

"I wanted to talk to you about that Merlin boy." Arthur grit his teeth and bit his tongue. He’d already had one outburst; his father wouldn’t look so kindly on another.

"What about him?"

"I believe it’s about time that you separated."

"What? Father, I must protest—"

His father ignored him, continuing to speak.

"It will be terribly sad, of course… but in a few months you’ll get over it. Especially with the help of President Aubert’s son coming for a visit over the summer. In fact, he might even be so kind to you that you fall in love."

"Etienne!? You want me to date Etienne?"

"I can’t see why you’re objecting so, Arthur. He’s a perfectly good candidate. A very handsome chap, even if I do say so myself. Independently wealthy, well-connected. We could do with all the good-will with Europe we can garner since the government messed things up with Brexit. We cannot say or do anything overtly, but a little manoeuvring behind the scenes is always appreciated."

"No. Absolutely not. Over my dead body."

"Come on now, Arthur. This is what we agreed to."

"No. It’s what you proposed. I never agreed to it. You put your foot down. You always do. Well, now it’s my turn. I put my foot down. I won’t break up with Merlin. I don’t want to. I like him. He’s my friend and I want him to be more. I’m going to ask him to be more, and you can’t stop me!"

"Oh, can’t I? I forbid you to date this boy."

"It’s too late; I already am in the eyes of the world. And whilst I’m at it, I won’t be travelling back and forth to the palace on your whim. I will attend on official occasions, but nothing more. I’m sick of it. I’m your son, not some kind of puppet, performing for your amusement. If you want to speak with me, you know my number. Goodbye, Father."

Arthur’s heart was beating fast in his chest as he hit the button to end the call, both terrified and exhilarated that he’d finally been able to speak out against his father’s ridiculous stranglehold on his life.

His phone buzzed.

His father, no doubt calling to rage at him for daring to hang up on him.

He felt a bit sick as he hit the end call button.

Soon, his phone was ringing again.

He repeated the action.

Then, when Uther didn’t stop, Arthur pushed his phone away from him, contemplating before he switched it off completely.

He needed to get out of here.

There was no telling what his father might do. He might order Leon and Elyan to drag Arthur back to the palace. He might send his own henchmen after him. They all knew where he was staying, so for now it was important to not be here.

But where else could he go? Not to any of his old friends; they’d turn him over to Uther in an instant for some money or influence.

The only other place he could think of was Merlin’s room. He had promised him, after all, and as bold as his father was, he didn’t think he would be so bold as to try and have his son taken when he was with witnesses.

He grabbed his phone and keys, shoving them into his pocket.

However the king was going to respond, he would have to wait. From now on, things were going to be on Arthur’s terms.

***

Merlin looked up when there was a rapid knocking on his door.

He glanced over at Will.

"Can you get it?" Will asked, not looking up from his laptop. "I just need to submit this essay. Then we can start to get ready."

As Merlin hauled himself up off his bed, the knocking began again.

"All right, all right," he grumbled. "I’m coming. Keep your hair on."

When he opened the door, Merlin was surprised to see Arthur standing there. Something about him looked scared and vulnerable.

"Arthur, are you okay?" he asked.

"I— Yeah," he said, running a hand through his hair and giving it a tug. "Yeah. I think so."

"That doesn’t sound very convincing. Why don’t you come in?"

Will looked up as Arthur came in. Taking him and Merlin in, he closed the lid of his laptop.

"You know what," he said. "I can finish this over in the library. Might crash over at Percy’s too."

"Thanks, Will," said Merlin. He watched him shove the laptop into his backpack and grab his coat.

"Don’t stay up too late, lov—!"

"Just fuck off, Will!"

"Fine, fine, I'm going."

He hurried over to the entrance, and the door slammed behind him.

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

"I think I might have stood up to my father."

"And that’s a bad thing?"

"It’s good and bad. He—he wanted me to break up with you—"

"Well, I mean, that’s what we agreed," said Merlin, feeling his spirits sink.

"—and I told him to get stuffed."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"Because I don’t want to. I don’t want him setting me up with other ‘suitable’ guys. I want to be with, well… you."

"I— I don’t understand. We were—the agreement was—"

"Fuck the agreement. I want more. I want to date you properly, really get to know you. I really like you Merlin, have for some time now."

"You like me?" Merlin asked, barely able to believe his ears.

"Yes, you daft idiot. Though, traditionally, the thing to do at this point is to tell the person if you like them back or not. So, do you?"

Merlin laughed. "Now who’s being an idiot? Of course I do. You know I do. I’ve liked you for ages too."

"Then we’re both idiots for not getting to this point sooner," Arthur said, reaching for Merlin’s hand. "So if I may, I’d really like to kiss you now?"

"Go on, then, what are you waiting for? A signed invita—"

Merlin was swiftly silenced as Arthur pulled him close, sliding his arm around Merlin’s waist and kissing him softly mid-speech.

"Hey—!" said Merlin, startled and disappointed that he hadn’t been able to enjoy their first kiss.

"Shh," said Arthur, pressing a finger to Merlin’s lips. He stroked the side of his face and smiled. "You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this."

"If you’re anything like me, I’ve got a fairly good idea…"

"Glad we’re on the same page then," Arthur said, moving in for another kiss.

This time, prepared, Merlin met him halfway, and it was electric. The kiss was tentative at first, gradually growing deeper as their hands and lips began exploring one another.

"Wow," whispered Merlin when they finally parted. He’d kissed boys before, but none of them had made him feel like this.

"Yeah," agreed Arthur, stroking his back.

"So, what are we to each other now? Just so we’re on the same page."

"Boyfriends? But officially this time."

"I like that," grinned Merlin.

"You’re sure?" Arthur asked, "I do come with a ton of luggage."

"I’ll get a luggage trolley, and if it gets to be too much, we’ll reassess."

"Very practical."

"I’m a mathmagician."

Arthur groaned. "That’s awful, Merlin. Even if you are one of the best in your class."

Merlin just smiled.

"Come here," he said, pulling Arthur closer and kissing him again.

He started to walk backwards, bringing Arthur over to his bed and running his fingers through Arthur’s silky strands as he tugged him down with him.

Arthur seemed surprised as he sprawled on top of Merlin.

"Merlin?" he asked. "What are you doing?"

Merlin wriggled underneath him, trying to get his hands between them to undo Arthur’s belt.

"I appreciate it, but no," Arthur said, moving his hands.

"No?" Merlin asked, confused and wrongfooted.

Had he read this situation all wrong? They had been waiting for so long, it felt right to move things on to the next level.

"I want this. I do. But I want to take things slowly."

"Slowly? We've been dating for months."

"Not really. Look," said Arthur, sitting up and flattening his hair. "Every single fling or relationship I’ve had, we’ve dived straight in. I want to do it right this time. I want to take you out on dates, kiss you in public, hold your hand. I don’t want to ruin this, because I’m serious about you and I know how difficult things will be for us. Let’s just take our time. I want you like this, I swear. But not just yet."

"Okay," said Merlin, pushing down his disappointment. At least it wasn’t an outright rejection, even though it felt a bit like it.

"Come on," said Arthur, pulling him upright and giving him a kiss. "Go out with me."

"If I must," Merlin sighed.

Arthur nudged him. "What’s wrong, don’t you want a guy to treat you right?"

"Maybe I want to be treated badly," Merlin retorted.

"Oh, there’s plenty of time for that," breathed Arthur. "Let’s get going. The sooner we have our first date, the sooner I can walk you home like a gentleman, and we can do all the things I know you’re already planning."

"Fine, but I’m blaming you if I die from anticipation."

***

As they walked through the streets of Camelot, their breath misting in the cool night air, Arthur reached for Merlin’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

"So, Mister ‘I want to do this right’, where are we going?"

"You’ll have to wait and see." Arthur smirked.

"You have to be the world’s biggest tease," Merlin grumbled.

Arthur smiled, tucking Merlin’s arm under his, making Merlin feel an inexplicable surge of warmth.

"That’s because you’re so easy to tease."

They turned a corner, and suddenly Merlin realised where they were.

"Are you taking me to Hengist’s?"

"If that’s okay with you. I thought it might be fun to go on our first official date where we were spotted on our first unofficial one."

"You’re soppy, you know that, right?"

"I’ll admit it on one condition: you tell no one."

"Your secret is safe with me," said Merlin, feeling a twinge of guilt.

He hadn't said anything to Arthur about his magic yet, because, well, how did you approach a topic like that? He'd never really told anyone before, and a good method of doing so had eluded him thus far. Maybe Arthur had a point about taking things one step at a time… They would have to cross this bridge when they got to it.

When they reached Hengist's, Arthur turned and gave him a kiss.

"You okay?" he asked

"Yeah," said Merlin. "Just surprised, that's all. I didn't think tonight was going to go like this."

"I didn't envision fighting with my father, but I did hope for this. Did you think I was going to break up with you or something?"

"Well, if I'm being quite honest, yeah. I felt like there might be something between us—there were too many close calls, too many almosts. But you never acted after any of them, so I figured I must have misread the situation or you just weren’t interested in pursuing anything."

"Not interested? God, Merlin, you’re all I think about, I just didn’t know how to broach the subject. You weren’t particularly happy about the whole fake relationship thing, so I figured you must not be into me."

"We really should communicate better, the pair of us. We could have spared ourselves all this hassle."

Arthur smiled wistfully.

"That’s true. But at least now I can do this…" He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s lips and opened the door to the restaurant. "After you."

"Finally, some of those princely manners I’ve heard so much about!"

"Watch it, or I’ll let go of the door."

***

After they had eaten their fill of vegan burgers and chips, they headed towards one of the nearby pubs for a pint to continue their conversation. Now that they had made their intentions for each other clear, Arthur was eager to know more about Merlin. Merlin the boyfriend, rather than Merlin the friend.

"—so it’s always just been me and Mum at Christmas, but it’s kind of nice, you know? We’ve got our own traditions and ways of doing things, plus it’s always nice to see friends from home. What about you? What does a prince do for Christmas?"

"Well, we all go up to Scotland, so it’s usually quite busy, Father is usually stressed trying to get his speech right, the staff are all rushing around readying the place for the guests. And then when they get here, Father expects me to entertain them all now that I’m older. I’m not sure we really have that many traditions. Oh, Morgana, Morgause, and I play Monopoly."

Merlin snorted. "God, you’re braver than I gave you credit for. Who usually wins?"

"Me, of course."

"Liar. I’m going to text Morgana," Merlin said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Don’t you dare!" said Arthur trying to wrestle it from his hands.

"Why, you worried she’ll reveal the truth?"

"No, I just don’t want to whip up the rivalry sooner than we have to. One year when she lost, she refused to speak to me for the rest of the week, and then the next Christmas she brought Cluedo. But it wasn’t the same."

"It must have been nice, having a sibling," said Merlin.

"Sometimes. But it was always a bit of a weird situation. I never even knew she was my sister until we were teenagers. She stormed into the palace with a love letter she’d found in her mother’s office demanding to speak to my father. It was quite the time."

"I can imagine. So why isn’t she a princess?"

"Father didn’t want to legitimise her because he was concerned about how people would view the monarchy. My mother was well-liked, by all accounts. I think the public would eat him alive if they knew he cheated on her. So, he has acknowledged her privately and finances her lifestyle. Somehow, he’s managed to keep it out of the press and Morgana seems happy with the status quo now she’s seen the reality of the family close up. Honestly, Merlin, I’ll be surprised if you decide to stick around, but I want you know I would not harbour any ill feelings if you—"

"Shh. Stop trying to talk me out of it. I like you. That’s enough for now. My mum used to say ‘don’t worry about tomorrow, otherwise you suffer twice.’"

"That’s a lie. Newt Scalamander said that."

Merlin waved his hand.

"Well, she said something like that."

Arthur watched the way Merlin’s throat bobbed as he drained the last of his pint. He’d never tried to have a proper relationship before. He’d always dived straight in. He was glad he was taking the time to savour things and enjoy just being with Merlin. Of course, he wanted to do more—he was dying to do more—but he wanted Merlin to know he was serious. That he wasn’t just looking for a shag. Arthur had put him through enough to get here. He wasn’t going to ruin anything by rushing, determined to let things simmer and come to fruition in their own time.

He glanced at the clock on the wall of the pub, surprised that it was later than he’d thought.

"Shall we get going?" he asked.

"Sure," Merlin agreed.

As they left the pub, Arthur huddled down into the warmth of his jacket, the weather freshly reminding him that Christmas wasn’t far around the corner. He wasn’t quite sure how to manage that. Should he extend an invitation to Merlin to join him at Balmoral? Or was that too soon? Would he even want to come? He painted such a lovely picture of Christmas with his mother, Arthur couldn’t help but be envious. He’d never really had a friend with a mother that sounded like Merlin’s. Most of his friends grew up in a similar manner to himself, shipped off to boarding school as soon as they were old enough to go and watched over by various tutors and nannies when they were home. It was a bit peculiar, but comforting none-the-less, to know that motherly mothers did actually exist. Usually, he tried not to think about how different his life might have been if his mother had survived, but this was one of the times when he was unable to prevent himself from wondering.

He smiled as Merlin slid his hand into his, the gesture so touching and surprising that his body heat warmed Arthur’s heart as much as it did his hand.

They didn’t talk much as they walked, both enjoying the time together. The streets were quiet, too early yet for most people to be turning out of pubs, the ground and cars already frost-laden. It felt nice to feel so comfortable with someone else that Arthur didn’t feel the urge to talk to fill the space, because it was already filled, their fingers brushing against each others’ all the way back to campus.

Arthur stayed with Merlin, walking him all the way back to his dorm.

"I guess this is me," said Merlin, cocking his head towards his door.

"Yeah."

"You know, I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too."

"I don’t suppose there’s any chance of… extending the evening."

Arthur took a step closer into Merlin’s personal space.

"I’d really like to—" Arthur began.

Merlin sighed. "That sounds like a ‘but…’."

"But I’ve already said, I don’t want to rush things. I really, really like you. I’m scared I’m going to fuck things up. I’ve never really tried to have an actual relationship before."

"But that’s normal. That’s what people do—well, us peasants, anyway. We fuck up. We make mistakes."

"Yes, but—"

"Life," said Merlin, pulling Arthur closer with his coat collar, "is too short for buts."

"Says you. I really like yours," grinned Arthur.

"If you came inside, you could get better acquainted…?"

Arthur pressed his forehead against Merlin’s and closed his eyes. He could. He really could. And he was more than tempted. But what he had said was true. He wanted to do it right, even if Merlin really wasn’t making that easy.

"I didn’t have you down for being so desperate, Emrys," he tried to joke.

"I challenge anyone not to be desperate when they’ve been waiting for months for someone and when the person they like finally likes them back, they insist on cockblocking them."

"Cockblocking!?"

"Mmhm. That’s exactly what this is. Come on, Arthur. I let you take me out on a date, but let’s be honest with each other; we’ve been dancing around this for so long and we’ve been as good as dating. Shouldn’t that be enough to know that we’re ready to go a little further?"

"That’s just it though. I don’t think either of us would be able to stop at ‘a little further’."

"Then don’t. You don’t need to get this perfect, Arthur. I promise I will still be just as into you in the morning as I am now. Will even left us the room for the evening. You don’t know how big a deal that is. Will hates you on principle and even he’s given you his seal of approval."

"Has he?"

"Yes, so let’s get inside and make the most of it." Merlin stared him in the eye and cocked an eyebrow. "Or maybe it’s not that at all. Are you worried you’re not up to it?"

Arthur crowded Merlin against the door.

"Hardly," he growled, taking Merlin’s lips with a possessive kiss. He groaned when he felt how Merlin was reacting against his thigh. "Emrys, you are going to be the death of me."

Merlin reached behind him to open the door, and they all but fell into the room.

Arthur kicked the door closed behind him. He had been right: now that they had started, he couldn’t stop. Nor could Merlin, apparently, as Arthur felt his long, nimble fingers tugging and unbuttoning his shirt between eager kisses.

"Can’t believe," Merlin murmured between kisses, "that you were just going to say goodbye and go home."

Once he finally had the shirt unbuttoned, he pushed both Arthur’s shirt and coat off his shoulders and let them drop to the floor. Merlin’s hands ran over Arthur’s stomach and chest as he groaned appreciatively before Arthur snapped out of his own stupor and got rid of Merlin’s coat, tossing it aside. Soon his hands were tugging at the hem of Merlin’s jumper, and they parted so that Arthur could rid Merlin of his many layers.

"How many clothes are you wearing?" Arthur asked with half-amusement and half-amazement.

"Shh. I get cold. Not all of us have as much fat as you."

"Fat!? I’m at the gym three times a week, cheeky!" Arthur told him, tickling his sides. "I should bring you with me so you’re less skin and bones."

"Hard pass. Gym bros…" Merlin shuddered.

"If you’re quite finished with the insults, Merlin, I believe I can demonstrate exactly why it’s good to be a ‘gym bro’," Arthur said, lifting Merlin and walking towards the bed.

Merlin chuckled and wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist.

"Such a caveman. Ooof—!"

Arthur threw him onto the bed and dived down with him, his hands tugging at the button of Merlin’s jeans.

"You love it," said Arthur with a grin. He continued to wrestle with Merlin’s jeans, and Merlin reached for the fly of his trousers.

Arthur leaned down to kiss Merlin, feeling buoyed and intoxicated, having wanted and resisted for so long. Once free of their trousers, Arthur ground down against Merlin as they kissed, until Merlin bucked beneath him and managed to flip them over so that he was straddling Arthur from above.

"You don’t know—" began Merlin, easing Arthur’s expensive boxers down his hips, "—how long I’ve wanted to do this…"

Arthur groaned, throwing back his head and breathing through his nose as Merlin wrapped his fingers around his cock and started to stroke him slowly.

His own hands sought out Merlin and wrapped themselves around Merlin’s hips, his fingers stroking the sharp jut of the bones there.

Forcing his eyes open, Arthur drank Merlin in, watching as he bit his bottom lip, his eyes big and dark and colour high on his delicious cheekbones.

He let his eyes wander downwards to his strong—and yes, sharp—collar bones; everything about Merlin seemed angular and jutting. Yet he was lean, rather than skinny, and sinewy rather than lacking in strength.

His chest was supple yet firm, with a smattering of dark hair, and Arthur couldn’t wait to worship it.

Arthur arched as Merlin twisted his hand, his cock throbbing, already closer than he’d like to be.

He stroked his fingers over the corners of Merlin’s hips one last time, reluctant to let them go, before reaching for Merlin’s cock and running teasing fingers along it. Merlin’s breath and rhythm stuttered. Arthur huffed a laugh before he grasped Merlin’s prick and ran his finger over the slit to spread the pre-cum along his shaft. Merlin responded with a surprised gasp before he redoubled his efforts, but Arthur was nothing if not competitive, and he sped up his hand, watching Merlin closely to try and determine what pressure and rhythm he liked best.

His hips jerked again, and Arthur scrunched his eyes shut. Not yet. Not yet. Merlin would never let him live it down. He reached up a hand and scraped a fingernail over Merlin’s nipple.

Merlin gasped, his eyes wide as he came with a groan, come spurting over Arthur’s stomach and chest.

Arthur laughed, and so did Merlin, as Arthur wrapped his fingers around Merlin’s. It wasn’t long before his vision blurred as he reached his climax, his come hot and wet as it spilled over his hands and added to the mess on his stomach.

Chuckling again, Merlin bent his head for a kiss. Arthur buried a hand in Merlin’s hair, breathless and giddy.

Merlin flopped down next to him and ran a finger through the sticky spend before popping it in his mouth, sucking it clean with a glint in his eyes.

Arthur groaned, his cock giving a valiant twitch at the sight of his hollowed cheeks. If he could have come again, he would have in an instant, just from that look.

"Fuck…"

"Mmm."

Merlin reached for the tissues next to his bed, grabbing a handful to clean up the worst of the mess before curling into Arthur’s side and tugging a blanket over them.

"You’re amazing," Arthur murmured into his hair. "You know that?"

"You weren’t so bad yourself," Merlin agreed with sleepy amusement.

Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin, holding him close. This felt so different than other times he’d been intimate with others. Not just good. Not just amazing. There was something about this feeling that made him content and made his heart soar, yet it scared him how strongly he felt it. He’d never felt this way before, and he worried about what would happen when this fell apart, as all of his romantic endeavours eventually did. He didn’t think he would be able to cope.

"Stop worrying, you’re stopping me sleeping," Merlin muttered. "I’ll still be here in the morning. I promise."

Taking a deep breath, Arthur hugged him tighter. That was good enough for now, and more of a promise than he deserved, given the baggage he brought with him. Discussions about the future and whatever lay ahead for them would wait until tomorrow.

Just as he was falling asleep, the thought occurred to Arthur that he ought to text Elyan and Leon to let them know where he was. But he was too comfortable and settled with Merlin’s head on his shoulder, to get out of bed to text them. They’d figure it out. They’d always found him before. In fact, he’d bet money Leon was loitering somewhere nearby.

Instead, he focused on the soft sound of Merlin’s even breathing, already asleep, holding on tight to the idea of a shared future.

***

The next morning, they were awoken by a banging on the door.

"Wha—?" croaked Merlin, squinting with his hair every which way. "G’way!"

The knocking continued.

"Merlin? It’s, um— it’s Leon. Is, uh—?"

"Need to open the door," said Arthur.

"You do it," Merlin retorted, burying his face in a pillow.

With a groan, Arthur hauled himself out of bed. Once he was on his feet, he cast his eyes around the room, searching the floor for his underwear which had been discarded at some point during last night's proceedings.

"Mmm, on second thought, come back to bed," said Merlin, now looking fully awake and very appreciatively at Arthur’s body.

Leon knocked again.

"I must insist—"

Finally spying his boxers, Arthur grabbed them and hauled them on as he reached for the door and opened it for a rather frazzled-looking Leon.

"—If he’s in there, I really need you to open the door— Oh, good morning, sir. Pardon the interruption, but you have a lecture in fifteen minutes and I thought you’d like to know."

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"Indeed, sir. That certainly appears to be the problem."

As Arthur retreated into the room, and Leon stepped inside and closed the door behind him, Merlin snorted.

"Don’t," Arthur warned him sternly. He started picking up their clothing from the floor, throwing Merlin’s clothes onto the bed.

He didn’t have his bag, didn’t have his notes. He wasn’t sure he even had any battery left on his phone. But he couldn’t be late. If he was late, he’d be failed for sure. Professor de Bois wasn’t like Annis. He hated Arthur just for who he was and had been looking for any excuse to fail him. Normally, Arthur wouldn’t care if someone liked him or not—many people did not. But he’d fucked around so much at the beginning of the year that he needed to pass de Bois’s course now in order to be able to continue with his degree.

He pulled on his shirt, socks and trousers, hurriedly doing up the buttons.

"I’m sorry," he said to Merlin as he shrugged on his coat and stepped into his shoes, wincing as he trod down the heels, something he would never normally dream of. "Call you afterwards?"

Leon politely averted his eyes as Merlin got out of bed and started to dress himself.

"Of course," said Merlin. He grabbed a notebook and pen, pressing it into Arthur’s hands. "Here, take these."

"Lifesaver!" Arthur declared. Leon cleared his throat pointedly. "And you too, Leon."

Merlin, now dressed in an old T-shirt and his boxers, grinned at him and gave him a quick kiss.

"See you later! Now go. Before you’re too late."

***

Having made it in time, at the end of his lecture, Arthur had texted Merlin as promised—thanks to Leon procuring a battery charger for his phone’s ailing battery—arranging to meet with him at one of their favourite local cafes for lunch.

Merlin was already there when he arrived, looking rather perplexed.

"What’s wrong?" Arthur asked, as he sat down. "You’re looking worried about something."

"Not worried," Merlin told him. "More… confused."

"Right, okay…?"

Merlin frowned and leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "People keep apologising to me. I don’t understand it. They’re acting like someone I know died or something. But they haven’t. At least, not as far as I know, anyway. It’s weird."

"That does sound strange," Arthur agreed. "Maybe they had you muddled up with someone else. Mistaken identity. I get it sometimes when people know my face, but can’t figure out why."

Shaking his head, Merlin disagreed. "No, because it wasn’t just one person but several. Oh well, never mind about that. How did the lecture go, did you make it? I trust you won’t be repeating the year just yet?"

"Got there just in the nick of time, much to de Bois’ disappointment. It was funny seeing his face, though."

"He sounds lovely."

Arthur grabbed the menu.

"Mmm. So, what are you having?"

They were in the middle of deciding their orders when a tall man with long, dark hair came over.

"Arthur!" he boomed, patting Arthur hard on the back. "There you are. Letting him down gently, are you?"

With a scowl, Arthur shrugged off Cenred’s arm. "What the fuck are you on about? Piss off, Cenred!"

"All right, keep your hair on. I get it. You want to break up with him in private. Call me when you’re done though, right? You know I can hook you and Etienne up with the right people."

"Etienne?"

"Yeah, the stuff about love at first sight and all that bullshit was genius, the press loved it. Well done."

"Etienne? Why would I— Oh, that fucking bastard!" Arthur roared. "Just wait until I speak with him. He’s such an arsehole."

"What?" Merlin asked, confused. "Arthur, who is this and why is he talking about Etienne?"

Arthur grit his teeth.

"I’ll tell you in a minute," he said to Merlin, before turning to Cenred. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off!? Leave me the fuck alone, before I make you leave."

Cenred raised his hands and backed away.

"God, you’re so fucking touchy these days. Fine. I know where I’m not wanted. But don’t you come running to me next time you fuck up to help make it better. I’m so done with you, Pendragon."

Cenred walked away with his head held high, followed by a few guys who’d been waiting nearby.

"Sorry," said Arthur, turning back to Merlin. "I wish I’d never been friends with him,"

Arthur saw Leon out of the corner of his eye and signalled to him that it was time to go. He didn’t trust himself not to make even more of a scene. No doubt an article was already being written about his behaviour.

"We should go," he said, getting up and offering Merlin his hand. "I can explain everything once we get back to my room, I promise."

He kept hold of Merlin’s hand the whole way as they dashed across campus, unwilling to let go lest Merlin change his mind and not give him a chance to tell him everything. He didn’t think he could bear for another misunderstanding to get in the way of them again.

Once they reached his dorm and Leon waved them inside, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair and collapsing onto his computer chair.

He turned on his laptop.

"So, what was that all about then?"

"Cenred is a former friend. We used to hang out a lot in the past. He’s awful. But I wanted to rebel and he was a good way to do that. I know now that was the wrong way to go about it."

"What does that have to do with what he said about Etienne?"

"If you hang on just a second—" Arthur said, typing on his computer, "I’ll show you."

He turned the laptop around so that Merlin could see what he’d been searching for.

"Yesterday," Arthur continued. "My father told me to break up with you. He wanted me to date Etienne instead. I told him over my dead body and that I wanted to be with you instead. He forbade me to date you. I told him I would anyway. I guess this is his way of getting revenge."

Merlin leaned over the laptop, reading the headline and scanning the article. Arthur watched his face anxiously as his expression changed from curious to confused to angry.

"Your father leaked a fake story to the press in order to break us up because you wouldn’t do what he wanted?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Arthur confirmed, feeling both relieved and tired. Relieved that Merlin didn’t seem angry at him, but suddenly feeling so tired of his father’s antics.

"But why would he do that?"

"Control. I didn’t do what he wanted, so he decided he’d make it happen anyway, the best way he knew how. Told you we have a fucked up relationship with the press. We could use it ourselves. I can’t issue a statement. But we could send a message loud and clear that this Etienne story is patently false."

Merlin perched on the edge of Arthur’s desk, thinking.

"What I don’t get is why he doesn’t want us dating. I was good enough before yesterday. What changed?"

"It’s because he never expected you to become a permanent fixture in my life. You were always a pawn in his plans for me. He’d decided that you’d served your purpose and it was time for me to move on."

"And what about you? What do you want for yourself?"

Arthur huffed.

"I rarely have a choice in anything that I do."

"It shouldn’t be that way, you should have a say in your own life. So what is it that you want? Don't think about me. Don't think about your father. Just think about yourself for once."

Shaking his head, Arthur said, "I can’t. That’s not how my life is. It’s been planned out for me before I even existed. Yesterday was the first time I’ve ever told him no about something. If I went along with him, I knew I’d be miserable for the rest of my life, so I decided that I should make my own choice, and I choose you. The truth is, I really like you. You’re one of the only friends I have. I couldn’t bear to lose you."

There was a pause in the conversation where Merlin almost went to say something, but didn’t.

"This is the part where you say you like me too. If you feel that way, of course. I know I’m a lot to deal with. I come with the biggest amount of luggage in the world. There are things I can’t change or do, and my father will probably always try to split us up. But if—"

"Shut up and kiss me, Arthur."

"But I—"

"Of course I like you, too. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have gone through that stupid state dinner if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have spent hours helping you study, even back when you were a dick, if I didn’t like you."

"I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered…"

"You’ll be alone if you don’t get over here and give me my kiss."

Arthur grinned and got up from his chair and made his way over to Merlin.

"Bossy. Watch it, I’ll be your king one day."

Tugging him by the collar, Merlin chuckled.

"And I’ll still tell you what to do. You’ll need it more than ever. Come on, let’s do something your father would hate," he said, pressing a kiss to Arthur’s lips and guiding him over towards Arthur’s bed.

"Yeah?" Arthur grinned into the kiss. "And what exactly would that be?"

Merlin turned them around and pushed Arthur down to sitting. He slid down between Arthur’s legs, parting them and looked up at him with a determined glint. So much for taking things slowly. He challenged any man alive to take things slowly with Merlin looking at them like that.

"Fuck…"

"Maybe I’ll let you later. Not enough time now," Merlin told him with a wink.

He made quick work of Arthur’s button and fly, pushing his trousers open, and when he started mouthing at Arthur’s cock through his boxers Arthur thought he might expire there and then.

Instead, he anchored his hand in Merlin’s silky-soft hair, trying to focus on remembering how to breathe. He had had many blowjobs in his time, most of which were hurried affairs in various bathrooms, only occasionally somewhere where he could take his time. But this time felt different, because Arthur was different. He cared more deeply than he’d like to admit for Merlin. A part of him was scared to consider just how much.

It was different because it was Merlin, someone he’d wanted for so long, but never imagined would want to be with him.

And he was doing a damn good job.

Arthur closed his eyes, groaning softly when Merlin pulled down his underwear releasing his cock from its confines. He almost bucked his hips when Merlin’s tongue met his skin, gripping Merlin’s hair tighter. It was almost unbearably good, and would most definitely be unbearably embarrassing if he came too early.

Merlin licked along the length of his cock, tracing around the head with the tip of his tongue, and Arthur shuddered with delight when he wrapped his lips around Arthur’s cock.

He risked opening his eyes to peer down at Merlin. The sight of him hollowing his cheeks as he started to suck Arthur’s cock would be etched in his memories for the rest of eternity.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, watching mesmerised.

Merlin looked upwards and their eyes met. Arthur felt as though he’d had the breath punched out of him just from a single look. He had no idea how he was going to survive life with Merlin when he was like this, but at least he would have a happy death.

"Oh God—" he gasped, as Merlin continued to work his cock with long, firm sucks, starting to establish a rhythm. "I’m not going to— I won’t last long—"

Merlin grinned around him momentarily before returning to the job at hand, pumping his hand at the base of Arthur’s cock whilst he did incredible things with his tongue around the head.

It was only then that Arthur realised that Merlin was getting himself off with his other hand, his movements with that arm sharp and jerky, that he realised he was done for. The sight of Merlin getting off on blowing him pushing him over the edge.

"Fuck, Merlin… I’m going to—"

That was all the warning he was able to give as he came with a startling intensity. But Merlin took it all in his stride, swallowing every last drop before he pressed his head against Arthur’s thigh as he soon came too with a groan.

"Wow," panted Merlin.

Arthur hummed in agreement as he ran a hand through Merlin’s hair.

***

Arthur met Merlin later that afternoon, after his afternoon lecture. They had both resolved to go about acting as though the newspaper headlines had never even happened. Arthur knew the media would soon twig and realise they’d been misled; then his father would have no choice but to accept the truth of the matter. Arthur had finally carved out a bit of his life for himself, and he intended to keep it that way. And he had no intention of keeping the extent of his relationship with Merlin under wraps.

"Hey," he said with a giddy grin as Merlin left the lecture theatre. He gave Merlin a kiss, which he gladly returned. "Pub?"

"God, yes, can we go to the Rising Sun? It's curry night."

"Of course."

"Are you sure? Do you think we could get followed again? Maybe we could go somewhere on campus, or get a take away."

"I’m not worried about that. I’m not going to hide you away, Merlin. My father needs to understand that I’ve made my choice. Shall we get going?"

"Okay," said Merlin hesitantly.

"Don’t worry, it’ll be fine," Arthur assured him. "Now, let's get going before it gets packed and all the good tables are taken."

As they walked into town, Arthur had a familiar prickling feeling on the back of his neck. For once, he welcomed it. If his intuition was right and they were being followed, they’d soon realise his father had duped them. If they weren’t, well, they’d be able to have a normal night out to celebrate the end of a long week.

Of course, it could be Elyan. He had agreed to give them a wide berth and was planning to catch up with them outside the pub, but Arthur knew that that wasn’t always the case. Either way, he’d been followed often enough to know how it felt and he’d be surprised if he was wrong.

It was probably a bad idea, but Arthur couldn’t help but be tempted to kiss Merlin outside the pub; it would be convenient, too. But as soon as he had thought about it, he felt guilty, like it would be using Merlin. So he discarded the idea.

It turned out Merlin had different ideas. As they reached the pub, he slid his hand into Arthur’s and smiled at him.

"I’m glad we went out."

"Same here. Though I must admit, I can’t wait to get you home later, either."

Merlin laughed, colour high on his cheeks and as they looked at each other, neither one of them could help but lean in for a kiss. And as their lips met, Arthur wondered why he had been so quick to rule it out. Kissing Merlin was one of the best things on Earth. There had been a time when he had thought he’d never be able to kiss a man publicly like this, where anyone could see him, a time where he thought he would never be allowed to be his true self. Now, here he was with his boyfriend on the threshold of a local pub, experiencing life like so many of their fellow students.

It was more than a little exhilarating.

When they reluctantly broke the kiss, Arthur beamed at Merlin. He knew he must look ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to feel like this forever.

He reached out and opened the door.

"After you," he said.

***

The next morning, curled up with Merlin in bed, Arthur couldn’t help but grin at the headlines and pictures on news websites declaring that he and Merlin were still together.

"What are you looking at?" Merlin asked as he leant over him, yawning.

"The papers."

"Oh shit, they saw us last night?"

"Yep."

"What will your father say?"

"He can say and think whatever the hell he likes," Arthur said, discarding his phone on the bedside table. "I'm going to fuck my boyfriend into the mattress, take him to breakfast, then go to my lectures. In that order."

"So much for taking it slowly…"

"It's impossible to take things slowly with a minx like you," Arthur groused as he flipped Merlin over onto his back. He nuzzled his face against Merlin's neck. "You're far too tempting. He can do whatever he likes. I'm going to enjoy my boyfriend and finish my degree. Then we'll go from there."

Merlin smiled softly at him. "I like that plan."

***

Three years later

Merlin shifted, the collar of his shirt stiff and uncomfortable. He hadn’t minded too much attending sporting events or state dinners, or other more private affairs as Arthur’s boyfriend. But today, facing his first official event with the press invited, he was on the verge of having second thoughts. He didn’t know how Arthur did it. Merlin hated being the centre of attention and did much better when he could just fade into the background. That was easier said than done when you were going to be the focus of everyone in the room.

Arthur turned to him and started talking to him softly under the pretence of brushing off his shoulder with his hand before straightening Merlin’s collar.

"How are you doing? Are you okay?"

"No, I’m bricking it. Why did I let you talk me into this again?"

"It will be fine. They’re just kids. Forget about the cameras and just be yourself. You’re great with kids. I’ve seen you with Will and Freya’s daughter. I haven’t got a clue with kids. It’s me that should be worried. They’ll eat me alive."

"But George says—"

"Fuck what George said. Just be you, and you’ll be fine. The press adore you. It’s me they like to judge. Remember when I didn’t bring you flowers on your birthday until the afternoon last year? You’d have thought all hell had broken loose. So many headlines that our relationship was in trouble. But they didn’t say anything about you going to brunch with Hunith on my birthday. They understood that she’d been in hospital recently, and you were the wonderful, dutiful son. Just take a deep breath, relax, and it’ll soon be over with."

Merlin lowered his head and breathed in through his nose. Arthur was right; he was worrying too much, though it was hard not to when your boyfriend was the heir to the throne. He just needed to calm down and do his best not to be anxious. It was just kids. He liked kids. He was a teacher, for crying out loud—usually his students were older than this, but surely similar principles applied.

Arthur lifted Merlin’s chin with his fingers and looked him in the eye, then kissed him.

"It will be fine. I promise. Now, come on, let’s not keep them waiting."

Merlin nodded. He reached for Arthur’s hand and Arthur gave his a squeeze.

"Let’s go."

Arthur opened the classroom door.

"Hi! I hear you’ve all been busy!" said Arthur as they walked into the classroom.

Merlin had been drilled on the protocol for these events by George more times than he cared to remember, for the man was as dull as brass. First, they would make small talk with the class and the teacher. Then, the teacher would explain what the class were going to work on, and then they were going to split up and spend time with smaller groups of children, asking—and if Merlin’s experience was anything to go by with his god-daughter Elaine, answering—questions about what they were up to, with strong encouragement to join in with the activity as well.

The kids all started talking excitedly at once, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile at their excitement.

The teacher motioned for the class to quieten down, but it took a them a few moments before they finally stopped talking.

"Now, class, calm down please. As you know, we have some special guests in school today. I want you to join me in welcoming Prince Arthur and Mr Emrys."

"Welcome, Prince Arthur! Welcome, Mr Emrys!" the children called in unison.

"Hi," replied Merlin, giving them a wave.

"We’re very happy to have you visit. If you’d like to take a seat, I will explain what we’re going to do today."

Merlin took a seat with Arthur at a table with four of the children gathered around. As they perched on the tiny chairs, Leon and Elyan took their places at the back of the classroom, ever vigilant. A select group of photographers and a cameraman were over by the window.

It was a strange enough situation for Merlin. He wondered how the kids must be feeling. Probably more excited than anything. Younger kids didn’t seem to be bothered by these kinds of things. He envied their lack of awareness.

They all listened as the teacher started to talk about climate change and explained the activity they were about to do.

Nearby, a little girl caught Merlin’s eye and he smiled nervously at her. She observed him, unblinking.

"Is it true," she whispered, "that you’re going to become a prince? My mummy said you’re in love with Prince Arthur and he’s going to marry you."

Merlin stared at her, wrong-footed. "Well," he whispered back. "We haven’t really talked about it. But maybe one day."

He caught Arthur smiling out of the corner of his eye.

"You should tell him to ask you," the girl whispered back.

"I don’t think that’s how it works."

"I think you would be a good prince. You’re nice, Prince Merlin."

"Maisie James, eyes forward please!" the teacher called.

Once she had finished explaining to the class, they were split off into groups. Maisie was grouped with Arthur, much to her dismay, whilst Merlin went off to join another group on the other side of the classroom.

The children were supposed to create some kind of poster to promote awareness of climate change, using the materials on their table, then afterwards they were all to make a tree on the wall of the classroom to remind them to look after the planet.

Soon, Merlin was put to work by the children, cutting out tricky shapes from recycled milk bottles and cardboard as they all chatted with him.

"What do princes do?" one of the children asked.

"Um…" said Merlin, thinking about how Arthur had lazed around most of the previous afternoon, claiming to be too tired after exams to do any tidying up in the flat. It was tempting to tell the kids that he was a lazy arse. But, of course, that wasn’t protocol. "They go to charities and work with them on projects and help spotlight their good works, and they carry out visits and public duties in support of the King here in the UK, and in other countries, too. Arthur— Prince Arthur has a charity himself that encourages ideas to help protect the environment. He gives money to people who come up with ideas to repair the damage other people have caused to the Earth."

In fact, shortly after he and Arthur had started officially dating, Arthur had changed his major in order to get a degree in Environmental Science. Merlin was immensely proud of him for continuing to make his own choices where he could.

"Wow," said a boy, wide-eyed. "I thought they just waved at people and lived in big palaces wearing crowns."

"Well," grinned Merlin. "There’s also a lot of that, too."

"Are you going to be a prince then?" the boy asked.

Kids were so inquisitive.

"I don’t know. Maybe?"

"How do you become a prince?" a kid with pen ink smeared on his face asked.

"Well, either you’re born a prince, or you become one," said Merlin.

"But how?" the boy repeated.

"You marry another prince, duh. Merlin’s going to marry Prince Arthur. Sophia told me so," said a girl with pigtails tied with ribbon in the school’s colours.

"Really?"

"No. Well, at least, not yet. We’ve not really discussed that yet."

"I hope you do, because you’re good at drawing," said another kid.

Merlin hoped that he’d mostly dodged that bullet. He had no idea that little kids were so interested in marriage, of all things. He’d expected that they’d be asking him about his favourite colour or film.

"So, if you’re not a prince yet, what DO you do?" the boy asked. He was almost as bad as the girl at the other table.

Merlin smiled with relief. Finally, an easy question.

"I’m a teacher," he told them.

The kids all immediately started talking all at once.

"Are you going to be our teacher?"

"When are you starting?"

"Is Miss Gracey leaving?"

"No, no," said Merlin immediately, seeing half of the children were on the verge of tears. "I teach secondary school— big school—students in another city. Nothing is going to happen with your teacher."

"My daddy said this is big school," retorted the girl with hair ribbons.

"Of course. I just mean, a school for bigger kids. The kind of school you’ll go to after year 6."

"There’s more school!" exclaimed the inky kid, covering his face with despair.

"Okay, class. Finish up your posters, please!" called Miss Gracey.

There was a mad scramble from the kids to finish sticking all the things they wanted on the poster, and once they were finally done, he and Arthur went around the groups looking at all of their work making kind and humorous comments about them.

Then, as the final part of their visit, the teacher and her assistant stuck a brown tree trunk cut out on the wall and set out several trays of green paint, ready for the children.

"Okay everyone, roll up your sleeves!" said Miss Gracey. "We’re going to make the leaves of the trees by pressing our hands carefully into the paint and then pressing them onto the wall. Once you are finished, go and see Mr Brown, who will help you wash your hands in the sink! Line up, single file please. There will be plenty of time and paint for everyone.”

Merlin and Arthur watched as the children lined up, until they too were being shepherded into the line. They exchanged bemused smiles as Merlin undid the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Arthur was in a more difficult predicament, as he was wearing a blazer. Eventually, he decided he’d just have to abandon it and passed it off to Elyan before he rolled up his own sleeves.

The press surged forward when it was their turn to make prints, taking plenty of pictures as they sank their hands into the paint.

"Careful," smiled Arthur. "Wouldn’t want anyone to get paint on them."

The reporters took a tentative step back. But then were back again as Merlin and Arthur glanced at each other before pressing their hands to the wall, adding their own handprints to the already busy tree canopy.

All the children clapped and cheered, and whilst they were all being seated again, Merlin and Arthur went to the back of the classroom to wash their hands.

"How are you holding up?" Arthur asked him quietly. As he soaped his hands, the water splashed at him, splattering paint onto his white shirt. "Fuck."

Merlin placed a finger to his lips and gave Arthur a wink as he felt his magic flood through him to clean up the mess.

"Thanks."

"You’re welcome. I’m doing okay. But I never knew a set of kids that were so obsessed with marriage!"

"What do you mean?"

"They were all asking when I was going to become a prince. Apparently, everyone and their mother thinks you’re going to marry me," Merlin said with a roll of his eyes.

Arthur chuckled and looked over at him. "Well, they aren’t wrong…"

"Oh my God, you’re not proposing to me in a classroom of kids, are you?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Arthur reached out for the paper towels and dried his hands.

"It’s not exactly how I had planned to propose, but, well, you had to know, didn’t you? I kind of thought that it was implied by the fact that Father’s allowed us to do a public engagement together finally."

"I’d throttle you right now if it wasn’t for the paint on my hands," Merlin grumbled, as Arthur moved out of the way so that he could start washing his hands. "I can’t believe you’re asking me now."

"Stop fussing, I’ll do it properly later. So…?"

"..."

Merlin pursed his lips and focused on getting his hands clean.

"That’s not a resounding yes," Arthur pointed out.

"Ask me again properly, and I’ll think about it."

Arthur clutched a hand to his chest dramatically.

"You wound me, Merlin. But fine. Have it your way. Trust you to turn down a prince."

"Trust you to think that was a princely proposal."

They turned to see the class and press staring at them enraptured by their conversation which hadn’t been quite as private as they’d thought.

"I knew you’d get married!" proclaimed Sophia, proudly.

***

The next day, the papers were full of pictures and stories depicting Arthur’s faux-proposal, and Arthur’s phone rang with angry calls from his father about how he dared to propose to Merlin without asking for permission.

Later that evening, upstairs in the library at Camelot University—back where it all started—there was a young man with a prince on bended knee, getting his properly princely proposal. And of course, as the young man bent his head, with a smile he did of course say yes.