Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When Arthur came home from the gym, his flatmate Gwaine had their living room table pushed up against the far windows. He was sitting on top of it, cross-legged, and plastering the panes with neon sticky notes.

"Signalling the mothership?" Arthur asked.

"Trying to find someone who will come rescue me," Gwaine replied without turning away from his task. "Or take you away, maybe. Either one."

Arthur frowned as he started to take in the full picture in front of him: Gwaine was blocking part of his view of the window, but the sticky notes seemed to be arranged to spell out 'WHAT FILM?'

"Are you… what are you doing?"

"Making friends."

Deciding that he didn't want to know, Arthur shook his head and headed down the hall. When he reached his room, he peeled off his sweaty shirt and flopped down on the bed to check his mobile.

No new texts. No noteworthy new Tweets or Instagrams. No new matches or messages on any of his dating apps. No new work emails. Several personal emails from his sister, which was odd and probably meant she was having kittens over something Arthur didn't care to know about, so he didn't bother opening them.

It wasn't even 11am yet, and he was already restless. He had no plans for the rest of the day. He had no plans for the whole weekend, really. He'd gone on a date the night before with a bloke who'd turned out to be so dreadfully dull that Arthur hadn't even stuck around long enough to get a blowjob out of it.

He'd been hoping for some kind of whirlwind romance where he and his date couldn't get enough of each other—in bed or out of it—and accidentally spent the entire weekend together, probably feeding each other grapes and testing out various wine and cheese pairings in between all the scorching hot sex.

Instead, his date had been a flop, so he'd skipped dessert and come home to wank. Afterwards, he'd gone to bed pathetically early for a Friday night, causing him to also wake up pathetically early for a Saturday morning. He'd headed to the gym as soon as he'd got up, but now he had nothing else to do.

Nothing else to do except think about Arms Guy, who had also been at the gym getting in his early morning workout.

Arms Guy was gorgeous, and Arthur had been lusting after him for months. He had nice long legs, really nice thighs, and presumably a nice torso, although Arthur hadn't seen more than the sweaty outline of his chest. What Arthur knew for sure, though—as his nickname implied—was that he had phenomenal arms.

Arthur wanted those arms shoving him against a wall or holding him down on a bed or wrapping around him for a good cuddle. They were long and thin and perfectly sculpted. Everything about Arms Guy was skinny yet built, but his arms were just complete perfection.

And then there was Legs Guy, who could probably easily crush Arthur's skull between his thighs. And Chest Guy, who had the most excellently shaped pecs. And Abs Guy, who frankly had too many abs, but damn did they look good anyway.

And Arse Guy, of course, but that was self-explanatory.

But Arms Guy… he was the whole package. He had a lovely face that Arthur had taken a few weeks to really notice thanks to his distracting arms. But once Arthur had noticed, it turned out that Arms Guy was kind of divine. He had lovely stubble that graced a sharp jawline, not to mention the dimples and ridiculous cheekbones. Plus his bright blue eyes that were usually emphasised by his dark blue workout t-shirts. All that was framed by his hair, which was an utter bird's nest of dark almost-curls that Arthur itched to touch.

Arthur slipped a hand under the waistband of his sweats and rubbed the tips of his fingers up and down the underside of his half hard cock.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been on a date with someone he was as attracted to as he was to Arms Guy. Arms Guy was just magnetic, and Arthur didn't understand how no one else at the gym was tripping over themselves at the sight of him. Arthur could barely even look at Arms Guy because of how flustered he became every time they even came close to making eye contact.

Maybe one day Arthur would get his act together enough to talk to Arms Guy. Not that he had anything more to say than, 'Nice arms, let's fuck.' And Arthur wasn't even sure Arms Guy was gay. He definitely looked at other guys in the gym—who didn't?—but it was hard to tell if the looks were lustful or envious. Arms Guy wasn't the biggest regular, so he might have thought he had something to be jealous of, but Arthur knew better. His size and proportions were perfect, and Arthur had a really hard time not staring at him whenever they worked out near each other.

Arthur had Arms Guy's body practically memorised. He could imagine exactly what it would look like if Arms Guy were sprawled across his bed as Arthur fucked him. His head would be thrown back, his hair getting even more untidy against Arthur's sheets. His pretty eyes would be closed, and he would be groaning through his teeth, his perfect jaw clenched tight. His sturdy thighs would be wrapped around Arthur's waist, their muscles working to hold Arthur closer as they moved together. And his arms would be on full display as he brought himself off in time with Arthur's thrusts.

Arthur bit down on his lip and let out a low grunt as his orgasm hit him before he'd even had a chance to pull down his shorts.

A good workout always got him so riled up.

Sighing, Arthur rolled off his bed and stripped off the rest of his gym clothes. He shoved his pants in the basket, then went into his en suite to relieve himself and take a shower where he could wank again without worrying about another mess.

When he was washed and dried and dressed, Arthur went back to the living room to see if Gwaine had been beamed up yet.

He was still sitting on the table in front of the windows, this time arranging his sticky notes to read 'ME + 2.'

"So…" Arthur leaned on the edge of the table to watch. "Are you… teaching maths to pigeons? Having a John Nash moment? Just trying to confuse me as much as possible?"

Gwaine added a few more notes to the bottom line of the '2' before scooting off the table, stepping back a few feet, and taking a picture of the window with his mobile.

"Someone invited us to a film night," he said, turning to Arthur.

"Yeah, that doesn't explain this at all."

"Someone in the east tower put up sticky notes in their window saying 'FILM TONITE 8PM.'"

"And you took that as a personal invitation."

"No," Gwaine said, chucking a notepad at Arthur's head. "But I wrote back and then they wrote back and so on."

"How do you know they're not responding to someone below us who is also being completely insane and sending messages via their windows? Surely someone else has noticed what you're both doing."

"They're answering my questions, so…" Gwaine shrugged and glanced over his shoulder to see if the other flat had posted a reply yet.

"What kind of questions?"

Gwaine handed over his mobile. "I took photos."

Arthur scrolled through the recent pictures on Gwaine's mobile, finding an entire conversation.

- FILM TONITE 8PM
- WHAT FILM
- WLDNT U LIKE 2 KNO
- YES!
- COME FIND OUT
- BRING MATES?
- HOW MANY
- ME + 2

"What if they turn out to be serial killers?" Arthur asked, passing the mobile back to Gwaine.

"What if we turn out to be serial killers?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not, but I really wouldn't put it past you."

Gwaine pulled a face and Arthur returned it.

"They responded," Gwaine said, hopping back on the table and turning toward the windows. "They're saying… 'WE = 3 MORE MERRY.'"

"More merry?"

"The more the merrier, I think." Gwaine said before ripping his sticky notes off the window with surprising deftness.

"What are you going to say next?"

"I'm going to be a good guest and ask if we can bring anything."

Arthur leaned across the table to help write 'FOOD?' and then pressed his face against the adjacent pane to get a better view of the other flat.

Their block of flats was U-shaped, and Arthur, Gwaine, and their other flatmate, Leon, lived on the west arm of the block in the penthouse Arthur had been able to secure because his uncle's real estate company owned the building.

The flat with the film invitation was near the eastern end of the block, about five stories down.

It took a while because the message was so long, but eventually the other flat put up a complete response of 'US = PIZZA U = WINE.'

Gwaine worked as fast as he could to reply, not even bothering to tell Arthur what he wanted to write as he arranged his sticky notes. So Arthur just watched, amused, as Gwaine wrote out 'SEE U 8PM.'

"Brilliant," Gwaine said happily, taking another photo.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Oh, look! They've put up a little heart."

"How sweet," Arthur said, fighting not to roll his eyes. "It's probably going to be some teenage girls, and when we show up at their door with wine, their parents are going to have us arrested."

"It's just as likely they're leather daddies. Or MPs. Or dogs in human suits."

"One of each, do you think?" Arthur teased. "Three dogs and each of them is pretending to be a different type of human? I call dibs on the leather daddy."

"You would. Want to come buy wine with me?"

"Might as well. Can't have you making a poor impression of us by showing up with shitty alcohol."

"That's the spirit."

Gwaine was wilfully indecisive at the shop, so when he and Arthur returned home, they were each carrying three bottles of wine.

They were welcomed back by Leon, who had come back from his morning errands with his friend Percy. Leon was on the floor of the lounge scrolling through the virtual collection of games on Arthur's PlayStation, and Percy was on the sofa, busy with his mobile.

"Planning a bit of a bender?" Leon asked as Gwaine and Arthur set down their bags.

"We're making new friends tonight," Gwaine said. Instead of properly explaining himself, he plopped down next to Percy, sitting a little too close for it to be entirely casual. Percy leaned into him, sharing whatever was on his mobile.

Leon watched them for a second before looking back up at Arthur. "Does this have anything to do with the sticky notes on the window?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We're, uh… going to a film night in the east tower."

"That is somehow a completely unsurprising explanation for Gwaine putting sticky notes on your windows," Percy teased.

"You're just jealous," Gwaine said.

"Yes, babe." Percy patted Gwaine's knee. "Leon, did you know that Octodad has a co-op option?"

"It looks ridiculous," Gwaine said, reading something on Percy's mobile. "We're definitely playing that."

"Good, I was getting paralysed by choice," Leon said, selecting Octodad: Dadliest Catch on the telly before handing out the controllers and taking his spot on the sofa.

They had an unreasonably large sectional sofa with plenty of room for Arthur to sit as far away as he pleased, but that wouldn't have been any fun. So, instead, Arthur grabbed a cushion and settled on the floor, propping the pillow against Leon's legs to use as a backrest.

"This is cosy," Leon deadpanned.

"You've got bony knees," Arthur complained, grinning and shoving his shoulder blades into Leon's shins.

"I call dibs on the left leg," Gwaine said when the menu loaded.

"That's—why?" Arthur asked, setting his controller to the right arm.

"Probably the tastiest part."

"That's not how this game works," Percy said, chuckling. He assigned himself to the left arm, leaving Leon to the right leg.

"Does anyone have a strategy for this game?" Leon asked as the introduction cutscene began to play.

"Button smashing," Percy said confidently.

"I'll smash your buttons," Gwaine jeered.

"Not until you wash your hands."

Arthur snorted and started pressing on his controller's bumpers even though the cutscene was still playing.

After an afternoon of increasingly raucous attempts to get through the game, the group gave up and disbanded. Percy went home to get ready for a date with a girl he'd been seeing, Leon went to take a shower, Gwaine went to his room to do whatever it was he did in there, and Arthur stayed in the lounge by himself.

He switched the television's input to his Xbox, got himself some wine—he figured even six people didn't need six bottles for one movie night—and started a new game on Ori and the Blind Forest. He'd played through the entire game at least a dozen times since it had been released, but it was still one of his go-to's. The soft, wondrous animation looked fantastic on his large telly, and it was easy to just get a little buzzed, immerse himself in the game, and not worry about anything else.

Like why the hell Gwaine was pining after someone as straight as Percy.

Or how he should probably take a break from dating apps after the failure of the previous night, which was the fifth bad date he'd had in a row.

Or what his sister had been emailing him about.

Or what Arms Guy was doing right then.

Eventually, it was time to go to the east tower. Since he knew Gwaine wouldn't do it, Arthur knocked on everyone's doors and went to collect the remaining wine while they got ready.

Gwaine couldn't decide on which shirt to wear, so they didn't leave their flat until 7:58.

"What if some old man answers the door holding an axe?" Leon asked on the lift ride down.

Gwaine pulled out two bottles of wine from Arthur's bag and handed them to Leon, and then he took two more bottles for himself.

"There. Now we're all armed."

Arthur took out the last bottle before dropping the bag over Gwaine's head.

"That's how people die," Gwaine said mildly, shaking off the bag.

"It's a canvas tote," Arthur pointed out.

"Still."

Arthur bit back a smile and made sure Gwaine saw him rolling his eyes. He was feeling so warm and relaxed from the wine he'd had that he thought he really wouldn't mind if this ended up being a trap set by an old man with an axe. Leon was tall and Gwaine was ripped, so they probably still stood a chance even if Arthur was too drunk to fight.

When they reached the basement, which was the only way to access the middle or eastern part of the block without separate keys, Arthur kicked Gwaine behind the knee and led the way.

"Do we even know which flat we're going to?" Leon asked when they reached the far east lifts. "Or what floor?"

"Looked like the 15th floor," Arthur said, jabbing at the button to call the lift. "I think."

"You think?"

"Might have been 14th," Gwaine said, shrugging.

"This isn't going to end well," Leon said, sounding resigned.

"We've got photos," Arthur reminded him.

"We do?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur fought the urge to whack his wine bottle into Gwaine's head. "Yes. You took them."

"Oh!"

Arthur shook his head, laughing despite himself. Gwaine never ceased to amaze.

The lift dinged as the doors opened, so they piled in and Gwaine took out his mobile.

"Okay, six floors down. So 14."

"15," Arthur corrected, but Gwaine had already pressed the button for the 14th floor. "Did you forget which floor we live on?"

"I…"

Leon laughed, looking pained. "Thank God we're going with you or you'd get yourself killed. Not because they're murderers or anything—you'd just find a way to wander into traffic on your way up to their flat."

"I resent that."

Arthur hit the button for the 15th floor since no one else seemed likely to do it. They had to wait for an awkwardly long time when the lift stopped on the 14th floor because no matter how frantically Gwaine pressed the 'CLOSE DOORS' button, the doors remained resolutely open for a full 45 seconds.

"Okay," Arthur said when they finally stepped out of the lift on the correct floor. "We want the west-facing flats, which should be…" He looked up down the hall, trying to orientate himself, but it took a little longer than it probably should have. "Okay, this side. I think. Down this end, right? Maybe second to last flat?"

He looked at Gwaine for confirmation, but Gwaine didn't seem interested in checking the photos again.

"Here goes nothing," Arthur muttered when he reached what he hoped was the correct flat.

He knocked, and then Gwaine elbowed him out of the way at the last second.

A short, pretty black woman with freckles and curly hair opened the door, smiling nervously.

"Oh, thank God," she said, looking at the three men at her door. "I was worried you'd all be old."

"Why would we be old?" Gwaine asked with the usual handsome grin on his face.

"Because you live in the penthouse."

"Fair. Well, we were worried you'd be teenagers whose parents would call the police."

"That's quite an assumption. Are any of you allergic to dogs?" When they all shook their heads, she opened the door all the way and stepped aside. "Come in. I'm Gwen, by the way. I don't actually live here, but Merlin and Freya were too afraid to answer the door."

"That's not true," another woman, presumably Freya, said as she came over to greet them. She was small and incredibly pale. Her long, black hair emphasised it, making her look even smaller and paler than she might have otherwise. She had a warm, animated smile, though. "I'm Freya. You can come in. I promise we won't call the police."

Gwaine stepped in first, holding up the wine bottles in a simulacrum of peace. "I'm Gwaine," he said. "We've brought wine."

"You—wow, you sure have." Freya took both of Gwaine's bottles and glanced over at where Arthur and Leon were entering with even more wine.

"I'm Arthur. We can bring these to the kitchen?" Arthur offered.

"Table's fine," Freya decided after a moment. She led them over to the sofa so they could deposit the bottles onto the coffee table.

Arthur glanced around as he put down the wine. Freya's living room was long and narrow, with the sofa, some arm chairs, and the telly situated near the window that still had the sticky note heart posted on it. The far end of the room was being used as a small dining area. To the right of the dining table looked to be a hallway to the bedrooms, and to the left was an archway, likely to the kitchen.

"Merlin's just finishing up the pizzas," Freya said, gesturing in that direction and confirming Arthur's guess.

"You made pizza?" Gwaine asked.

"Merlin did. Hopefully it's enough, but—"

"We can make more if we need," a voice, presumably Merlin's, finished for Freya.

Arthur looked over and his stomach lurched as Arms Guy walked out from the kitchen holding two large baking sheets, each with a still-bubbling homemade pizza on top. A jaunty white French Bulldog followed him, immediately coming over to sniff at Arthur's feet.

Arms Guy—Merlin—set the pizzas carefully on the coffee table, nudging the wine bottles out of the way. He was beautiful up close. His neck was long and his hair was soft and the line of his nose was—elegant, maybe? Compelling, somehow.

Arthur crouched down to scratch behind the Frenchie's ears, wondering what had possessed him to just declare a man's nose compelling. He'd had a lot of wine, but maybe it had actually been too much.

When Arthur looked back up, Merlin was looking around at his guests. His eyes caught on Arthur for a moment, and then on Gwaine for an even longer one. Arthur tightened his grip on the dog, not sure how interpret that.

"Those pizzas look fantastic," Gwaine said, holding out his hand. "I'm Gwaine."

"Merlin. Uh… thanks for the wine," he said after a pause. He turned to Leon, who introduced himself, and then finally to Arthur, who stood back up. "You go to the Albion gym, right?" he asked, shaking Arthur's hand and offering a shy sort of smile.

Arthur just nodded. Merlin's eyes were so blue, and they'd never made eye contact before, and—he hadn't offered his name yet. "Arthur."

"Cheers. That's Aithusa, by the way," Merlin said, gesturing at the French. "Well…" He glanced at Gwaine again before stepping around the table and turning on the telly. "We've got a couple of options for entertainment. If you're interested in some long sci-fi, we've got 2001: A Space Odyssey or Brazil. But if you want, uh, not long sci-fi, I was thinking maybe Dirty Dancing or Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa."

Gwaine, who liked to be as inept as possible when he thought it didn't matter, but who also could be absurdly charming when he knew it did matter, gave a graceful shrug. "You've welcomed us into your home and cooked us dinner. It's entirely your call."

Merlin looked at Arthur, who shrugged, and then at Gwen, who also offered no vote.

"Well, if you're—oh, wait, there's another pizza. Um, battle it out amongst yourselves," Merlin said before excusing himself back to the kitchen. Gwen and the dog followed him.

Arthur turned to look at Leon, trying to ground himself.

"What?" Leon mouthed.

"Arms Guy," Arthur mouthed back, but Leon's brow just furrowed in response. "Arms—"

"What would you like to watch?" Freya asked.

"Brazil could be fun," Leon said when no one else answered. "Or Alpha Papa. Just something funny."

"Not in the mood for a love story, Leon?" Gwaine teased. "Baby and whatever the hell the guy's name is? They're a classic. Dave and HAL, too."

"That's the worst interpretation of Kubrick I've ever heard."

Gwaine chuckled and, shrugging, turned back to Freya. "Can't go wrong with Steve Coogan, really."

Freya nodded. "Alpha Papa it is, then." She moved to the bookshelf next to the telly to pick up the remote, and Arthur noticed several small rainbow flags sticking out of shot glasses on a few of the shelves.

He wondered if he could possibly be lucky enough for them to be Merlin's.

Not that he had even managed to string together a full sentence in front of Merlin yet.

"What's up?" Leon asked in a whisper.

"Arms Guy," Arthur responded, speaking as low as he possibly could.

Leon's eyes widened. "No," he said, grinning. "Really?"

Arthur nodded but was saved from having to continue the conversation by the return of Merlin, Gwen, and Aithusa. Merlin was holding a third pizza and Gwen was somehow managing to carry six wine glasses.

"What'd we decide?" Merlin asked, setting down the pizza down on a smaller side table next to the sofa.

"Alpha Papa," Gwaine said. "Have we met before? You seem… just ever so vaguely familiar, but I can't place you."

Merlin looked at Gwen, and she gave him an encouraging smile as she set down the glasses.

"Yeah," he finally answered. "We were at uni together."

Gwaine tilted his head, taking Merlin in, and Merlin flushed under the scrutiny.

Which was adorable.

"I feel like I'd remember a gorgeous guy named Merlin," Gwaine said, smiling.

"I looked a bit different back then."

Arthur glanced over at Gwen and Freya and was surprised to see them watching Merlin and Gwaine with much more serious expressions than the conversation seemed to call for. Arthur couldn't think what Merlin could mean other than that he must have lost some weight—or maybe a lot of weight—since uni.

"Shit," Gwaine said suddenly, and loudly. "Holy—wow, mate. You look great."

Merlin gave a nervous laugh. "Thanks, yeah."

There was another moment of silence with Merlin and Gwaine just looking at each other, and then Merlin made a dive for one of the wine bottles. He ducked back into the kitchen for a bottle opener, still followed by the dog, and came back with plates as well.

Freya started up the film while everyone rotated around the coffee table, getting pizza and wine, and then found seats. Arthur got the end of the sofa with Gwen next to him and Merlin next to her with Aithusa sitting diligently at his feet. Gwaine was sat in an arm chair near Merlin, Freya was in the opposite arm chair near Arthur, and Leon was on the floor near her.

"Are you sure you don't want the chair?" Freya asked kindly. "I really don't mind."

"No, thank you," Leon said, giving her a soft smile that had Arthur shoving pizza in his mouth to hide his own smile. "I'm fine here."

"This is really good," Gwaine said, lifting a slice of pizza in Merlin's direction. "Thank you."

"Thanks for the wine."

"Those your flags?" Gwaine asked, finally turning off his charm and reverting to his normal tactlessness.

"Yeah."

"Nice." Gwaine set his foot on the edge of the coffee table and rolled up his jeans enough to show off the rainbow-coloured infinity tattoo on his lower leg.

"Oh, cool." Merlin leaned closer to get a better look. Then he sat back and pulled off his hoodie to show Gwaine a tattoo on his upper arm.

Arthur leaned forward to peer around Gwen, but the angle didn't work and he couldn't see Merlin's ink.

He could see Merlin's t-shirt, though. It had a circle in the middle, with the standard male and female symbols coming out of it in the traditional places: an arrow on the top right and a cross on the bottom. There was a third combined symbol, a crossed arrow, on the top left. The colours of the transgender pride flag were splashed behind the design, and, for whatever reason, there was a cute cartoonish dragon curled around the circle as well.

Arthur turned back to the telly and took a long gulp of wine.

Not weight loss, then.

"Shit," Gwaine said, still admiring Merlin's tattoo. "You need to refer me to whoever did that because that is amazing. Did you design it?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's great."

"Thanks," Merlin said, sounding very pleased.

Arthur looked down at his plate, then up at the telly, and then at Freya, who was staring at him. He gave her what he hoped was at least a somewhat natural-looking smile. She gave him a tight-lipped smile in response before shifting in her seat to look back at the telly.

"Oh, sorry," she said, moving her leg away from where it had knocked into Leon's back.

"No worries," Leon looked around at her, that silly soft smile still on his face.

Aithusa finally decided that Merlin would be okay on his own for a few minutes and went over to inspect Leon.

"She probably won't leave you alone if you stay on the floor," Freya warned.

"That's all right."

Aithusa flopped down on her side, presenting her belly to Leon, who happily obliged in rubbing it. Freya leaned down to pat Aithusa's head, and Leon smiled up at her and said something in low voice that Arthur couldn't hear.

Arthur took a deep breath and finished off his first slice of pizza. He felt like he'd stepped into some sort of bizarro flat. Leon was being more openly flirtatious than Arthur had ever seen him be, and Arms Guy was Merlin, and Gwaine knew Merlin from uni, and the night was going so much differently than he had imagined.

He normally kept his cool so well. But he had come in his pants just hours before to thoughts of Merlin, and he hadn't at all been prepared to suddenly spend the evening with the man he'd been lusting after for half a year.

Because it wasn't just lusting. It was fantasising. A lot of it. Because he'd never had a reason to think they'd ever interact outside of the gym.

Arthur had really built up Arms Guy in his head as some sort of engrossing, beguiling sex god. It was hard to switch gears and try to think of Merlin, the normal and friendly, albeit unreasonably gorgeous, neighbour.

He was definitely still feeling the wine he'd had while playing Ori. And now he was just drinking more wine. And—he hated to even acknowledge it—Gwaine was being flirtatious with Merlin. And the night probably wasn't going to go his way.

Again.

The film, or at least the bits Arthur could make himself pay attention to, was funny enough. Merlin and Gwaine had both had tears in their eyes from how hard they had laughed at various parts, but Arthur couldn't quite get into it. His head was too fuzzy from the alcohol, he couldn't keep track of the plot or most of the characters, and he could see any chance he'd ever had with Merlin fading away right in front of him. Gwaine was coming on strong, Merlin seemed more than happy about his advances, and Arthur just wanted to get back to his own flat.

When the film was done and the pizza and wine were all gone, Arthur helped Leon take all the plates and empty glasses into the kitchen while Gwaine stayed in the living room, Aithusa in his lap.

"All right?" Leon asked, carefully setting all the glasses in the sink.

"I'm fine." Arthur deposited the plates on the counter.

"I'm sure if you told Gwaine—"

"I'm fine," Arthur repeated. "It's fine. Some things are better left as a fantasy." He went back out into the living room without waiting for a response.

Gwaine was standing near the door with Gwen and Merlin, who was fixing a lead to Aithusa's collar.

"Time to go home?" Arthur asked, relieved that he wasn't going to be forced to stay any longer.

"I'm walking Gwen home," Merlin explained. "And taking Aithusa out."

"Do you live far?" Gwaine asked.

"It's about a 15-minute walk," Gwen said, pulling on her jacket.

"Can I come along?"

Arthur went back to the coffee table to get the bag he'd brought the wine in, not wanting to hear Merlin's response. In exchange for that, he was treated to overhearing Leon asking Freya out for coffee the next afternoon.

Just perfect.

Entirely done with the evening, Arthur made his way to the door and stepped out into the hall.

"Thanks for having us," he said, waving to Freya. "Goodnight."

"Any time," Freya called after him as everyone else filed out of the flat.

Arthur reached the lifts first and pressed himself as far into the back corner as he could manage, crossing his arms over his chest and avoiding looking at anyone else.

Aithusa let out a small 'ruff' as the lift began to take them down to the first floor, wagging her tail when the doors opened again.

"Thanks again for the wine," Merlin said when they were outside. "This was fun. We should do it again sometime."

Arthur's brain sluggishly came up with the thought that this could be his moment to make his interests known, if only he could get his act together and ask for Merlin's number.

"Our place next time," Gwaine said cheerily. "We've got a bigger telly."

"I don't doubt it," Merlin teased.

"Thanks for the pizza," Leon said, shaking Merlin's hand and then bending down to scratch behind Aithusa's ears.

"Yeah," Arthur echoed. "Thanks."

Aithusa chose that moment to bolt for the nearest patch of grass and interrupt Merlin's attempt to shake Arthur's hand.

"All right," Merlin chuckled. "Guess we're on our way. Have a good night."

"Goodnight!" Gwen waved before following Merlin and Aithusa, and Gwaine hurried after them as well.

"Well," Arthur said, watching the trio head toward the pavement, "fuck this whole night."

"Mate—"

"Kidding," Arthur said, forcing a smile. "I don't know about you, but I've had far too much wine and need to drag my sorry arse to bed."

Leon paused, perhaps wondering if he should push back against Arthur's insistence that everything was fine, but then nodded. "Yeah. You need your beauty rest."

"Fuck off." Arthur kicked at Leon's ankles, and Leon laughed as he led the way across the courtyard to the west tower's entrance.

Merlin wasn't ready for the weekend to be over. Not that he didn't have ample liberty to do as he pleased during the work week, since he had a home office and was self-employed, but the weekends still felt more freeing, more relaxing, more open to possibilities.

And this weekend had been a particularly good one. On Friday, he'd had a nice, quiet evening in with a new graphic novel and some good beer. On Saturday he'd got in an energising early-morning workout at the gym, helped Freya and Gwen set up a bizarre new form of communication with the neighbours, made several pizzas from scratch, and then hosted a successful film night with new friends.

Or old friends, as it had turned out. Although maybe that was a stretch, as he and Gwaine hadn't actually been friends at uni. At most, they'd been vague acquaintances. They'd had some mutual friends and had bumped into each other at various exhibitions or events, but they hadn't really known each other.

Merlin had always admired Gwaine, though, even if it was from afar. Gwaine was so confident and gregarious, which had been alluring during a time when Merlin had been trying so desperately to figure out who he really was and how he wanted, and needed, to live his life.

It was odd to have Gwaine pop back up after so many years, and in such a fortuitous way, but Merlin wasn't going to complain. Gwaine was attractive and funny and interested in Merlin.

At least, that's how it had seemed for most of the film night. Gwaine had flirted and invited himself along when Merlin walked Gwen home with Aithusa. But then, when they'd got back to their block of flats, he'd simply shaken Merlin's hand and gone home without asking for Merlin's number.

Merlin supposed that Gwaine could probably find him pretty easily on Facebook, or maybe he would just continue on with the public sticky note conversation. Maybe he had changed his mind or simply never been interested in the first place. Maybe he was just really, really friendly.

It any case, Merlin had been so thrown by the casual departure that he hadn't thought to ask for Gwaine's number, either, so he'd returned to his flat with nothing and spent the rest of the night in his room, zoning out to YouTube videos on his mobile.

The next morning he'd gone to the gym again, and after that he had spent the rest of the day continuing to read the graphic novel he'd started on Friday, occasionally getting distracted by Freya's Great British Bake Off marathon.

But now it was Sunday evening, and he wasn't completely ready to let go of the weekend, so he was lying in his bed and scrolling through Grindr. He hadn't opened the app in at least a month, since he'd recently found a fuck buddy through Tinder. They hadn't so much as texted each other in two weeks, though, and Merlin didn't have that much patience.

He tried a few different search filters, hoping to find someone that piqued his interest. Mostly what he found were uninspiring thumbnails.

When the same tiny photo popped up under multiple searches, Merlin finally relented and tapped on the profile. The first photo—and why Merlin hadn't initially been intrigued—was of less than half of the side of the man's face and part of his shoulder. The main focus was on the view in the background, which had been unidentifiable in the small thumbnail, but now turned out to be a cityscape from an all too familiar area.

Merlin swiped to the next photo and wasn't entirely surprised to see Arthur's face staring back at him. He was smiling in this second photo, his slightly crooked teeth on display, and the upper half of his bare chest was visible, too.

He had some very nice collarbones.

There was only one more photo on Arthur's profile, and it looked to be from someone's wedding. He was in a suit, looking slightly dishevelled from drinking and dancing, and inexplicably waving his arms above his head.

Merlin looked at the photo for a while, trying in vain to figure out what Arthur was supposed to be doing. Was he awkwardly stretching? Inventing a new dance that involved pretending to climb a ladder? Attempting to praise the sun? Was there a helicopter above him?

Giving up on deciphering the image, Merlin scrolled to the rest of Arthur's profile, but it was sparse. There were only a few stats—he was two years older than Merlin and three centimetres shorter—and the bio just read 'destiny and chicken,' which was mildly amusing.

Merlin rolled onto his stomach and set his mobile on the bed. He debated whether he should send a message to Arthur, just to say hi, or to take the piss about his strange dance moves, or to ask about the chicken.

But if Arthur didn't respond—if he wasn't interested—what would happen the next time they were at the gym together?

Probably nothing, since nothing had happened any of the other times they'd been at the gym together, but Merlin didn't want it to be awkward. Even if it was only awkward for himself, in his own head, he didn't want that.

Because if he could manage to avoid making it awkward, maybe Merlin could actually talk to Arthur at the gym. Normally Merlin just got in and out of there as stealthily as he could, avoiding eye contact and conversation as much as possible. But he wouldn't mind getting to know Arthur a bit more.

Arthur had always been on Merlin's radar, with his sweaty blond hair and soft-looking lips and broad chest and eyes so blue that Merlin could tell their colour from halfway across the room. Maybe they could drum up a friendship at the gym—they could work out together on occasion, sit in the sauna together, or walk home with each other.

And then maybe Merlin could test the waters, now he knew that Arthur liked men. And maybe if they got to know each other a bit more, Merlin would be able to tell if Arthur might be interested in him. Maybe they could come together gradually, with glances and touches and mounting tensions, and then, finally, fireworks.

Or maybe not. Arthur had been pretty closed off during the film night, focused mostly on drinking and the occasional opportunity to pet Aithusa. He really hadn't said much at all. Merlin wasn't even sure if he'd had a good time or if he'd been forced to accompany Gwaine against his will.

Still, Arthur was exceedingly nice to look at, and it would be nice to have someone to talk to at the gym for once, even if that was all it ever was.

Before he had finished weighing out his options, Merlin got a new message from someone else.

- Hey you ;)

It was from Gwaine. Merlin hurried to his profile, wondering how he had never seen or recognised Gwaine on the app before.

Most likely it was because Gwaine's first photo was of him in sunglasses, facing almost entirely away from the camera as he stared out over the London skyline during sunset. It looked like it had been taken from his penthouse flat. Maybe Arthur had taken it for him.

The next few photos were the shirtless torsos with bulging chest and arm muscles typical of Grindr profiles. Despite the pensive first photo, Gwaine's profile was clearly more about sex than anything else. He didn't even have a bio.

- Hi. Nice abs

- Thank you, I made them just for you

- That's very generous of you
What are you up to tonight?

- Listening to Leon gush about his afternoon with Freya. Are you not being treated to the same torture?

- No, she's more tight-lipped than that. She's just been watching GBBO since she got back from their coffee

- Clearly she is pining madly for him

- Honestly, she might be. She has been smiling a lot

- That's sweet
So, I was hoping I'd find you on here

Merlin's heart thumped and he turned onto his back again, wide awake.

- Yeah?

- Yeah. I've seen your profile before but didn't realise it was you
I thought you were cute
Wasn't sure who you go for

Merlin bit his lip. Gwaine was hinting at something, asking some unstated question, but Merlin couldn't quite grasp the angle enough to properly respond.

- Men, generally

- Figured that much, considering the app and all
I guess I mean, do you go for cis men

Merlin smirked. He got all sorts of weird messages on Grindr about his gender and his genitals, but he didn't think anyone had ever voiced worry about him only being interested in other trans men before.

- Any type of men

- Good. How late do you normally stay up on work nights?

- Doesn't matter, my schedule is flexible. You?

- Same
Want to come over?
Or I could come to you
Or we could video chat
Or wait until another time if that's too fast
I'm happy to wine & dine you

Merlin slipped a hand under the sheets and dragged his fingers over his pants. If he agreed to this, it would be first time he slept with someone who had known him back then, before he'd really embraced himself as Merlin. It hadn't ever occurred to him that anyone who knew how he'd used to be would be interested in who he was now.

Also, if he agreed to this, he might be thwarting his own chances with Arthur.

But Arthur was a complete unknown, and he'd shown absolutely no interest in Merlin, even as a friend, whereas Gwaine was friendly and obviously interested and, apparently, available. Like, available right now. No slow build necessary. They could get right to the fireworks.

- You're welcome here if you want an escape from Leon

- Give me 15
Should I knock when I get there?

- Text me

Merlin sent his number and scrambled out of bed and into the bath to clean up and make sure he looked okay. He looked tired—it was late, after all—and a little dishevelled from lying in bed. He ran a wet comb through his hair a few times, but, as usual, that did very little to tame it.

Back in his room, Merlin changed into clean boxer briefs and then pulled on jeans and a purple t-shirt. He had just finished remaking his bed when his mobile buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

Here

To give himself at least the illusion of not being too eager, Merlin took the time to add Gwaine as a contact before he went out to the living room.

Freya was still there, watching Bake Off.

"Don't you have work in the morning?" Merlin asked, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

"Weren't you already in your pyjamas?" she asked. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No, but I've got someone coming over. He's just out there."

"I suppose that's my cue, then." Freya grabbed the remote, and Merlin decided he didn't want to wait for her to the leave room.

He opened the door and found Gwaine in the hall, dressed in jeans and an alarmingly tight long-sleeved shirt.

"Hey," Gwaine said, grinning.

"Hey." Merlin stepped aside, letting Gwaine in, and bit down a laugh at the look on Freya's face.

"Hello again," Gwaine said casually, as if she should have been expecting him.

"Hi," Freya said, nodding her head in greeting before giving Merlin a very unsubtle look that clearly read, 'I have questions and you are answering them tomorrow.'

"Can I get you some water?" Merlin asked Gwaine in an attempt to break the tension.

Gwaine shrugged. "Sure, yeah. That'd be very nice."

Merlin went into the kitchen, and when he came back with two glasses of water, Freya was gone and Gwaine was sitting on the floor with Aithusa.

"She's a lot happier to see me than Freya was," Gwaine said, scratching at Aithusa's rear end, which she had enthusiastically presented to him.

"Were you trying to give Freya butt scritches? Because, I have to say, she is not a fan."

Gwaine sniggered and stood to take his water. "Does she sleep in your room?"

"Freya? No, we finally got rid of our bunk beds last week."

"You're having a fun evening, aren't you?" Gwaine teased.

Merlin shrugged and took a sip from his glass. The truth was that he was nervous, and he covered up his nerves by talking a lot, and he really just wanted to get to the main attraction so that he could stop feeling anxious about how it was going to go.

"Aithusa sleeps in my office," he explained, "which is between my room and Freya's."

"So, we don't have to be too quiet?" Gwaine asked, grinning again.

Merlin returned the smile and led the way to his room. Aithusa tried to follow, so Merlin had to keep shoving her back into the hallway. Finally, he resorted to telling her sternly to 'sit' and 'stay,' and then he was able to close the door.

When he turned around, Gwaine was on him immediately, pressing him against the door, licking up his neck, and reaching around to grope his arse.

"How do you feel about butt scritches?" Gwaine asked, his question a little muffled since he was basically speaking into Merlin's jaw.

"There's definitely better things we can find to do with my butt."

Gwaine chuckled and gave Merlin's earlobe a gentle nip before stepping back and looking around for somewhere to put his glass. He settled for the top of Merlin's bureau, and Merlin barely had time to set his own glass down before Gwaine was going to town on his neck again.

Merlin quickly got his hands in Gwaine's hair, which he was happy to find really was as soft as it looked, and started walking them backward toward his bed.

"What do you like?" Gwaine asked, already working on unzipping Merlin's jeans. "Anything off limits?"

Merlin stepped out of his jeans, and Gwaine reached for his shirt next, but he held Gwaine's hands to his hips instead.

"I'm keeping on the rest of my clothes. You can fuck me in the arse, but that's it. Hands away from the front. I'll do whatever you want to you, though. Within reason."

Gwaine smiled slowly, licking his lips. "Within reason?"

"I'm not going to suck whipped cream off your cock. Not tonight, at least."

Gwaine moved closer and flicked his tongue into Merlin's ear. "I'll have to cancel my takeaway order, then."

Merlin rolled his eyes and pushed Gwaine down on his bed, ready to get on with it.

Luckily, Gwaine was on the same page, and it didn't take very long at all for him to be naked and for Merlin to be face down on his bed with Gwaine gripping a fistful of his hair as they moved together. The back of Merlin's pants were pushed down just far enough for Gwaine to fuck him, and Merlin had one hand shoved down the front of them, his thumb and forefinger tugging on his dick. His other arm was under his forehead, keeping him from shoving his face into his sheets and suffocating on his moans.

Gwaine felt really good. He sounded good, too, his deep grunts and the occasional 'Fuck, Merlin,' pushing Merlin closer to the edge. Merlin wanted to come so badly, had been wanting to come as soon as Gwaine had propositioned him, had been in need of a good fuck for weeks.

Gwaine let go of Merlin's hair and moved his hands to Merlin's hips, pulling them against his own as he thrust harder. Merlin let out an embarrassing noise as his arse started clamping, contracting around Gwaine's dick each time it was fully inside him. His muscles were pulsing and he was losing his breath—he was going to come.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped before shoving his hips hard back against Gwaine's. He groaned through clenched teeth, pointlessly trying to keep reasonably quiet as his whole body rocked and shook with the force of his orgasm.

Gwaine fucked him through it, and he started feeling weak as they continued with that same slow, rough pace that had made him come. Merlin rubbed his dick for as long as he could stand, but eventually it got too sensitive and he pulled his hand out of his pants.

"God, you're hot," Gwaine panted as he started moving a little faster. "Can I turn you over?"

Merlin managed a murmur of assent, and Gwaine pulled out, leaving his arse clenching around nothing. He rolled over and spread his legs before remembering that he was in his briefs. Still in a slow haze from how hard he had come, he was considering just taking them off and letting whatever happen, but then Gwaine lifted his legs and yanked the briefs up enough to be able to slide back in.

Gwaine looked incredible moving over Merlin like that, his long brown hair sweaty and pushed off his forehead. His lips were red and bitten, a ring he wore on a chain around his neck was swinging against his chest, and his brown eyes were dark from lust. His face was flushed and his mouth was open—it was a better sight than Merlin could have imagined.

Bracing his heels on Gwaine's shoulders, Merlin tried to focus on getting Gwaine to come, but, after another minute, it was clear that his own body wasn't done yet. He reached back into his pants and huffed, his hips bucking when he touched his cock. It was too sensitive still, but also throbbing with want, and it didn't take long for the want to turn in to need and the need to turn into another orgasm.

"Christ." Gwaine grunted, and Merlin barely registered Gwaine's fingers digging into his thighs as his head swam. "Are you—fuck, I'm gonna—are you—"

"Yeah," Merlin moaned, still rubbing himself and drawing out the pleasure as much as he could. He lifted his hips in time with Gwaine's thrusts, wanting to feel Gwaine coming inside him. "Yeah, come on." He clenched the muscles in his arse with as much strength as he could muster. "Let me see you come for me."

Gwaine gave a stuttering moan on his next exhale and then he lost his rhythm, his hips jerking gracelessly against Merlin as he came.

Merlin continued rolling his hips as Gwaine slumped, spent and mostly held up by Merlin's feet on his shoulders.

"Fuck, that was good," Gwaine said, finally releasing his grip on Merlin's thighs.

Merlin dropped his legs to the bed as Gwaine moved away to dispose of the condom. He pulled his pants back up over his arse and brushed his fingers across the red marks on his thighs, thinking that he'd probably have bruises in the morning from how hard Gwaine had been grabbing him.

"Shit," Gwaine said, leaning down to kiss Merlin's hand and then his thigh. "I'm sorry. Does that hurt?"

"It didn't at the time," Merlin assured him.

Gwaine kissed the back of Merlin's hand again before sucking Merlin's slick fingers into his mouth. Merlin smiled and lay back on his pillows as Gwaine licked him clean.

"You taste good," Gwaine said when he was done. He lifted the hem of Merlin's t-shirt and pressed a kiss to Merlin's hipbone, and Merlin jerked a little at the ticklish sensation of Gwaine's stubble against his skin.

Gwaine grinned, gave Merlin's hip another kiss, and tugged his shirt back down.

"I mean it, you know," he said as he rolled onto his back next to Merlin.

"Mean what?"

"That you taste good." He brushed his hand against Merlin's. "Do you ever get naked and let guys get gross with you?"

Merlin snorted. "That's a weird way of putting it, but yes. Just usually not the first time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Merlin looked over at Gwaine and grinned. "Greedy."

"Not my fault you're so attractive."

"It most certainly is."

Gwaine chuckled and propped himself up on his elbows. "Well. Shall I leave you to get some sleep?"

"If you want." Merlin reached out to trail his fingers along the hairs covering Gwaine's thighs. "I don't mind if you want to sleep here. If you think going back to Leon is too much of a risk."

"I'm sure he's moved on to bothering Arthur." Gwaine sat up and looked down at Merlin for a long moment. "Next time, yeah?"

Merlin nodded and forced himself to get off the bed as Gwaine got dressed.

When he was ready and there wasn't anything else for him to do but leave, Gwaine downed the glass of water Merlin had given him earlier in two long gulps.

"One more for my baby," he said, lifting the empty glass as if he were toasting Merlin. "And one more for the road." With that, he drank Merlin's water as well.

Merlin laughed and opened his bedroom door, only just stepping out of the way of Aithusa rushing in. She climbed up the doggie stairs at the foot of the bed and started sniffing around the rumpled sheets.

"That's… your poor innocent dog is sticking her nose right up my dick."

"I don't think that's physically possible, and, if it were, it certainly wouldn't be legal."

"Tell that to her," Gwaine said as he followed Merlin out to the living room.

"Thanks for coming over," Merlin said as he unlocked the front door. He never really knew what to say at the end of a night like this.

Gwaine slipped a hand into Merlin's pants and gave his arse a firm squeeze. "Thanks for coming."

Merlin smirked and shoved Gwaine out into the hall. "See you around, yeah?"

Gwaine leaned in to give Merlin's neck a soft kiss, and then another, and then a third. "Yeah. Sleep well." He stepped away and gave Merlin a cocky wink before heading for the lifts.

Merlin waited until Gwaine was in a lift—Gwaine entertained Merlin during the wait by smacking his own arse a few times—and then went back to his room. Aithusa was already gone, probably back in her own bed in Merlin's office. Merlin forced himself to change back into his proper pyjamas and clean himself up a little in the bathroom, and then he collapsed on his bed and fell asleep breathing in the scent of Gwaine's hair on his pillow.

Merlin slept in late on Monday morning. When he woke up, he went for a long run and then cooled down by taking Aithusa for a walk. After that he tidied up the kitchen and the living room before finally settling in his office to work.

The windows in his office faced the same direction as the ones in the living room, giving a nice view of the west tower and a less nice view of the city beyond. He was somewhat disappointed to see that someone had taken down the sticky notes from the penthouse windows.

He wondered how Gwaine, Arthur, and Leon could even afford a penthouse flat. Maybe one of them was a pilot, or a spy, or the Queen's personal physician.

Merlin realised that he didn't know what any of them did. There hadn't been much small talk during the film, and there'd been even less with Gwaine the night before.

Making a mental note to ask Gwaine what his job was the next time they hooked up, Merlin put on a podcast and got to work.

On Tuesday night, after two slightly boring days of his typical routine and of dodging questions from Freya, Merlin decided to reach back out to Gwaine. He sprawled out on the sofa with an old episode of Would I Lie to You? playing on the telly and spent a few minutes searching the internet for lame jokes before crafting his text.

What do the Sixth Sense and Titanic have in common?

Gwaine's response came almost immediately.

Do tell

Icy dead people

Spoilers! Rude

If it's been TWO DECADES, it's not a spoiler

You're not a spoiler

Interesting. Tell me more about myself

You have very long legs. Like a giraffe. Or a spider

Oh fuck, can you imagine a giraffe-sized spider?

I can, but I prefer not to. I'd rather imagine a giraffe with 8 legs

What would you name him?

Lord Wiggles

Sounds like a very special lad

He's my best friend. He sleeps in our loft

You have a loft?

Maybe. I could be lying. Only one way to find out

Do you need me to accompany you on a surveying expedition of your own flat?

Yes. Please. I'll get lost without your long legs to lead the way

You're fucking weird, did you know that?

You are weird and I am fucking you, so yes I did know that

Merlin smiled to himself and rolled off the sofa to get ready to go over to Gwaine's. He rinsed off quickly in the shower, threw on some clean clothes, made sure Aithusa's water bowl was full, and headed out.

Merlin didn't love the basement of their building, but he decided he might as well put in the effort to get up to the penthouse so that Gwaine wouldn't have to come all the way down to the entrance of the west tower to let him in. The basement was entirely empty—anything that might have been down there was locked behind heavy, windowless doors set into the corridor—but there were so many corners to navigate from the east end to the west end that it felt like someone or something could be waiting to jump out at Merlin any moment.

Like a rat.

Or like Gwaine, who was actually waiting by the west lifts when Merlin reached them.

"I'm not sure if it's sweet or creepy that you came down here to meet me."

"Probably both," Gwaine said, grinning.

He tugged Merlin into the lifts and swiped a keycard that allowed him to select the button for the top floor.

The ride was awkward, with neither of them touching or speaking or even making eye contact. Just as Merlin was wondering if he should push Gwaine against the wall and kiss him already, the lift dinged and came to a stop.

They stepped out into a small, bare foyer, and then Gwaine unlocked a door on the other side and led him into the penthouse.

The first thing Merlin noticed was how unreasonably high the ceilings were. The second thing was that the living and dining room area was probably the same size as Merlin and Freya's entire flat. The third thing was the loft, tucked away in a corner above what looked to be a smaller version of the main living room that was separated by a grand floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.

"So there is a loft," Merlin said, too impressed by the flat to come up with any sort of joke.

"Yeah. We never use it. Mostly because of the smell. Giraffes are not very clean, you know."

"No," Merlin chuckled. "I don't imagine Lord Wiggles would be coordinated enough to use a broom."

"Eight legs and still a disappointment." Gwaine sighed wistfully. "Want to see?"

Merlin nodded, so Gwaine headed up to the loft and Merlin followed. He could see right away that Gwaine had really meant that they never used it. The only things there were a few dusty, mismatched arm chairs, a large stereo system, and a soft rug that took up most of the floor.

"Smell's not that bad," Merlin said. He turned to lean over the low wall that enclosed the loft and took in the view of the rest of the flat. He couldn't imagine having so much space to live in.

Gwaine pressed himself against Merlin's back, running his hands over Merlin's chest and stomach.

"Where are your flatmates?" Merlin asked. He pushed his arse back and was gratified to hear Gwaine's small gasp at the pressure.

"In their rooms being boring." Gwaine pressed a kiss to the back of Merlin's neck and dragged one of his hands lower until he could cup Merlin's crotch. "Want to fuck up here?"

Merlin shivered at the thought. "They won't come out?"

"They never do." Gwaine lifted the hem of Merlin's shirt to get at his skin, and then he went straight for Merlin's nipples.

Merlin huffed and rocked back against Gwaine, feeling Gwaine's dick hardening against his arse. Gwaine was so hot and so confident about what he wanted, and Merlin was already wet.

"Will you let me see you?" Gwaine asked into Merlin's hair.

"Are you serious about doing this up here?"

"Yeah. We can go to my room if you want, but—"

Merlin turned around and pulled off Gwaine's shirt, followed by his own. Gwaine immediately ducked down to suck on one of his nipples, and he bit down a groan and threaded his fingers through Gwaine's hair.

"Do you have condoms?" he asked when Gwaine licked back up to his neck. "Lube?"

"Give me, like, 30 seconds?"

Before Merlin could respond, Gwaine was gone, running down the stairs and dashing across the flat. Merlin grinned and shed the rest of his clothes quickly. He reached down to stroke himself, his dick already swollen and stiff.

When Gwaine returned, the look on his face was very much worth the wait. Gwaine crowded Merlin against the low wall again, tugging on Merlin's earlobe with his teeth as he worked to rid himself of his clothes. Merlin helped, and when Gwaine was finally naked, Merlin dropped to his knees and took Gwaine's cock into his mouth.

"Oh," Gwaine breathed, grabbing at Merlin's hair. "That's—" He cut himself off with a groan when Merlin pulled on his balls. "Yeah, fuck."

Merlin carried on, thoroughly enjoying himself and occasionally reaching down to rub his own cock, which always made Gwaine groan deeper and tighten his grip on Merlin's hair.

Eventually, Gwaine stepped back and pulled Merlin up, pushing at his waist until Merlin turned around and braced himself on the half wall. Gwaine coated two fingers in lube and Merlin hung his head as Gwaine started fingering his arse.

When Gwaine's other hand started to make it's way toward Merlin's dick, Merlin grabbed his wrist and held his hand down on the wall's ledge.

"No touching," he said, more because he enjoyed making Gwaine wait than because he was uncomfortable with Gwaine touching him there.

"Okay," Gwaine agreed and pulled his hand away to tweak one of Merlin's nipples instead.

Merlin gasped and was about to reach up with his own hand to do the same with his other nipple when he saw something move down below. He froze—his body erupting in goosebumps from the very real possibility of getting caught—and watched as Arthur wandered out from a hallway and into the kitchen. He was shirtless.

"Arthur's in the kitchen," he whispered.

"Yeah?" Gwaine asked, not bothering to lower his voice. "Does that make you hot?" He tugged on Merlin's nipple to punctuate the question, and Merlin had to cover his mouth to muffle the sound he made.

"Yeah," Merlin whispered when he'd got control over himself. "But I still don't actually want—"

He cut himself off as Arthur came back out from the kitchen—still shirtless—and disappeared down the hallway again.

Gwaine nipped at the back of Merlin's neck and pulled out his fingers. "Ready?"

"Very. Sit near the wall."

Gwaine smiled and turned to slide down the wall until he was on the floor, then scooted forward a few inches with his legs crossed. Merlin knelt down and lowered his arse onto Gwaine's dick until he was completely full and sitting in Gwaine's lap with his legs wrapped around Gwaine's waist.

"Fuck," Gwaine muttered, leaning his head against Merlin's chest.

"All right?" Merlin asked, waiting for Gwaine to nod before he began rocking his hips.

Gwaine wrapped his arms around Merlin's back and started pressing open-mouthed kisses to his collarbone as they built up a rhythm.

The position was a little too intimate for a casual second fuck, so Merlin leaned back and, grabbing Gwaine's chin so he would look up, asked, "Are we ordering pizza after this, or what?"

Gwaine snorted and put his hands on the floor behind him so he could thrust up harder. "Sure, what toppings do you like?"

"Sausage," Merlin said, and then he winked.

Gwaine actually giggled at that and lifted Merlin off him so he could rotate and lie down on the floor instead. He climbed back on, riding Gwaine so quickly his muscles started burning almost immediately, and began pulling on his cock.

"God damn," Gwaine groaned. He got his hands around Merlin's arse, helping Merlin keep up the pace. "Do you ever let guys fuck you in…" Gwaine trailed off and frowned, lifting his hips up against Merlin's thrusts to make up for the awkward silence.

"In the front," Merlin supplied. "Sometimes. You interested?"

Gwaine nodded and bit down on his lip as Merlin somehow found the strength to go even faster. "Christ, you're going to make me come if you keep that up."

"Do you not want to come?" Merlin teased. He shifted his hand enough to let Gwaine get a better view of him touching his dick, and Gwaine's fingers dug into his arse. "I want to come. If you come first, I'm going to straddle your face—ah—and come inches away from your mouth, using my hands and make—oh, fuck—make you watch even though you can't touch."

Gwaine's hips bucked and he slammed his head down on the rug, coming with a shout he barely managed to smother with his fist. Merlin rode Gwaine's dick for as long as it was hard and then did as he had promised. He leaned over, one hand on the floor and one hand on his cock, and gave an up close and personal show as he brought himself off directly over Gwaine's mouth.

When he came, Merlin struggled not to make too much noise, but Gwaine didn't bother at all. He grabbed at Merlin's arse and the backs of Merlin's thighs, moaning, whimpering, grinding his teeth with how much he apparently wanted to get his mouth on Merlin's dick. Gwaine was so eager and so easy to please, and he made Merlin feel so hot and dirty when they fucked, and all of that just made Merlin want to come again and again and again.

He continued rubbing himself long after he finished coming, just to tease Gwaine some more, until finally rolling to the side and collapsing on the floor.

"Fucking hell," Gwaine said.

Merlin smirked and lifted his head to see that Gwaine had removed the condom and was already hard again.

"Was that good for you?" Merlin asked.

Gwaine punched Merlin on the shoulder. "No." He sat up and ran a hand over his mouth. "Do you really want that pizza, or…"

"Or do I want you to take me to your room so we can fuck again on your bed?"

Gwaine grinned. "Yeah, or that."

"First the fucking," Merlin said, sitting up. "Then the pizza. Then more fucking."

"Perfect."

Merlin woke up the next morning nauseous from hunger because they'd forgotten to ever order the pizza. He rolled over, misjudging his position on the bed, and landed half on top of Gwaine.

"What?" Gwaine muttered.

Merlin turned onto his side and brushed his fingers over Gwaine's chest. "Hey."

Gwaine murmured something unintelligible, his eyes still closed.

"Do you want breakfast?"

"Mmm."

Merlin smiled and pressed a kiss to Gwaine's shoulder. "Gwaine. Wake up. Just for a minute."

Gwaine grunted but managed to open one eye. "What?"

"I need food. Do you want breakfast? I can make something if you want. Or I can head back to mine."

Gwaine heaved a sigh and opened his other eye. "Are you honestly offering to cook me breakfast?"

"Yeah. It's the least I can do considering how many times you made me come last night."

Gwaine smirked and ran a hand through Merlin's hair. "You made you come. Because you are very selfish."

Merlin gave Gwaine's shoulder another kiss. "Yeah, you're basically just a sentient dildo."

Gwaine laughed, the lines around his mouth and eyes taking over his whole face. "You're so nice to me."

"I am literally trying to make you breakfast here."

"Right. Right, yeah. Yeah, go ahead. Help yourself to whatever you find in the kitchen."

Merlin bit lightly at Gwaine's arm before getting out of bed. He found his clothes near the door in the heap Gwaine had dropped them in when they'd come in from the loft and got dressed in Gwaine's en suite before heading out to the kitchen.

He hated the kitchen immediately. It was three times the size of his and had enough counter space that he and Gwaine could have fucked on top of the cupboards. And all of the appliances looked new and painfully expensive.

The fridge was suspiciously low-stocked for three grown men, though. After taking note of all the options, and inspecting all of the cupboards, Merlin decided on waffles. There was a waffle maker on the counter next to the kettle, and it looked like it had never even been used.

He was just pouring in batter for the first waffle when Arthur came in, looking bleary and wearing only a pair of tartan pyjama bottoms.

Arthur stopped in his tracks and stared at Merlin, his expression completely blank, for long enough that Merlin had to turn away to finish pouring the batter and close the waffle maker.

"Am I…" Arthur glanced around. "Am I dreaming, or…"

"Yes," Merlin said as he flipped the iron in its stand. "I'm the waffle fairy. Haven't you dreamt of me before?"

"You're not usually wearing so many clothes."

Merlin burst out laughing, and Arthur went red all the way down to his bare chest.

"Sorry, I—"

"No, no, please don't apologise," Merlin said, still laughing. "Don't ruin this moment for me."

Arthur smiled bashfully and took a seat at the kitchen island. "Are you actually going to tell me what you're doing and how you got in, or would that ruin the moment as well?"

Merlin could tell from Arthur's nonplussed expression that he genuinely didn't know the answer to those questions. Maybe he hadn't fully woken up yet.

"Gwaine invited me over. Last night."

"Oh," Arthur said, shifting his gaze to the waffle maker. "Sorry. I didn't realise he'd had company."

Merlin shrugged and, since Arthur was still looking away, used the opportunity to take in Arthur's unkempt morning appearance. His hair looked staticky, like it would shock anyone who tried to tame it with their bare hands, his eyes were a little red, and he still had the ghost of pillow lines on his face. Most importantly, he was half naked. There was a smattering of dark hair on his chest, and it really helped to emphasise his pecs.

Gwaine's body was ridiculous. He had abs for days, a nice, compact chest, and an unreasonably firm backside. Arthur was clearly fit as well, but he seemed slightly softer, more inviting. His chest looked it would be comfortable to use as a pillow—as opposed to Gwaine's, which was like a slab of concrete—and his abs were visible but not obscene, and mostly he just looked very cuddly. And warm somehow, despite being half naked.

The light on the waffle maker came on, pulling Merlin back into the moment a second too late—Arthur had definitely just noticed him staring.

Merlin tugged the waffle onto a plate and set it down on the island counter.

"Want the first one?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go on."

"Thank you." Arthur stood to get butter from the fridge but seemed to change his mind at the last second and ended up pulling out a carton of ice cream from the freezer instead.

"That's very decadent," Merlin said as he poured in batter for the next waffle.

"Haven't you heard that breakfast is the most important meal of the day?" Arthur asked as he took out some cutlery from a drawer.

"Yes, but that doesn't explain the ice cream. That's more of a reason why you shouldn't have ice cream for breakfast, surely," Merlin teased as he closed the iron and flipped it.

Arthur shrugged and heaped a large scoop of ice cream on top of his waffle. "Maybe all this sugar will be a nice break from downing myself in coffee all day."

"That's an odd job description."

Arthur rolled his eyes and took a large bite of his breakfast.

"What do you do, by the way?" Merlin asked. "It never came up on Saturday."

"I am a biomedical engineer," Arthur said without any elaboration.

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds very, um…"

Arthur waited patiently for Merlin to finish his sentence, offering no support and continuing on with his meal.

"Nerdy," Merlin finally said.

Arthur smiled as he took another bite. "Yeah," he said around a mouthful of waffle. "I'll take that as a compliment and agree."

"It wasn't a compliment," Merlin assured him. "It was neutral, at best."

Arthur shrugged, unperturbed.

Merlin pulled out the second waffle and poured in batter for a third before helping himself to a large bite.

"These are nice," he decided. "Thanks for the ingredients."

"You're welcome, I guess. Where is Gwaine, anyway? Surely you're meant to be having breakfast together?"

"Still sleeping, I think. I might have to bring him breakfast in bed to get him to wake up properly." When Arthur didn't respond to that, Merlin asked, "So, what does a bio-whatever do?"

Arthur dragged a piece of waffle through the melted ice cream on his plate and ate it before responding. "Well, right now I'm working on prosthetic hands—specifically wrists. Trying to improve their range of motion," he flexed his fingers as he rolled his wrist to demonstrate, "and ideally offer some semblance of a sensory feedback system, but that's really another pair of shoes."

Merlin's hand hovered over his plate, a piece of waffle dangling, forgotten, off the end of his fork. "You design artificial limbs?"

Arthur nodded and continued on with his breakfast, reminding Merlin to do the same.

"That sounds extremely complex," Merlin finally said.

Arthur smirked. "Putting it mildly, yes."

"Do you have like… seven degrees, or something?"

"About that number, yeah. Light's on."

Merlin only just managed to get the waffle out before it burned. It was more crispy than fluffy, but Arthur took it, anyway.

"What do you do?" he asked, adding another scoop of ice cream to his plate.

"Nothing nearly as impressive as you," Merlin said as he poured more batter into the waffle maker.

"Well, in that case, I don't actually care to know."

Merlin chuckled, feeling he deserved that, and decided to have some ice cream while he waited for the next waffle to be done.

"I work on video games. Really life-changing stuff, that."

Somehow, Arthur still looked impressed. "Yeah? What does that involve? Like, game mechanics?"

"Nah, just art."

Arthur finished off his second waffle in a few large bites. "Do you draw characters?"

"Sometimes, yeah. I'm working as a freelance concept artist right now, so I do a bit of everything, really. Characters, environments, whatever's needed."

"That's fascinating," Arthur said, and Merlin wasn't sure if he was joking. "Have you worked on anything I might know?"

"Depends on what sorts of games you play."

Arthur glanced at the time on the microwave. "I'd show you, but I do need to get myself ready for work. Maybe next time?"

"Next time I make breakfast for Gwaine? Sure, it's a date."

Arthur coughed, blushing, and got up to dump his plate in the sink. "You can leave the dishes when you're done. I'll take care of them when I get home."

"Okay." Merlin frowned down at the waffle maker, feeling oddly dismissed due to Arthur's sudden business-like tone. "Have a good day?"

"Thanks," Arthur said, offering a smile. "And thanks for breakfast."

"'Course."

Arthur nodded, paused in the doorway for a second, and then headed off toward his room.

When it was done, Merlin took the next waffle to Gwaine and used it to lure him out of bed and into the kitchen for more.

Arthur forced himself to read through the first few pages of a detailed—and exceedingly boring—research paper during his commute so that he wouldn't think about Merlin.

Merlin looking ridiculous with his bedhead.

Merlin making waffles.

Merlin creating art for video games.

Merlin staring at Arthur's bare chest.

Merlin sleeping with Gwaine.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but Leon had done some sleuthing and found out that Gwaine hadn't got Merlin's number after the film night, so Arthur had thought he was in the clear. But Gwaine had managed to contact Merlin some other way, and now they were—well, it didn't take much imagination to know what they were doing, but Arthur still didn't want to think about it.

So he was reading the research paper.

Sort of.

The commute felt much longer than usual, probably because Arthur had to fight so hard to pay attention to the words on his tablet screen, but eventually he reached the office.

He had barely put his bag down when his desk phone rang. The display screen showed the extension and the name 'U PENDRAGON.'

"Good morning," Arthur said. He pulled one arm out of his jacket and then switched the phone to his other hand so he could get out of the jacket entirely.

"Are you busy?"

"No, I just—"

"Come to my office."

The call disconnected and Arthur set down the receiver, frowning. That wasn't a particularly promising start to the day.

Arthur headed back through the halls of the office until he reached the executive suites, and then he knocked on the door to his father's office.

"Come in."

Arthur stepped inside and took his time to close the door as he glanced around, hoping for a clue as to why his father had sounded so gruff on the phone. His father, Uther, was the Finance Director for the company, having worked his way up from the accounting role he'd held when Arthur had been born. Normally he called Arthur to his office for a friendly coffee, or on occasion to chat about actual work-related things, but this felt different.

The office looked the same as it always did, though. The bookshelves were still mostly populated with trinkets from Uther's travels around the world, the degrees and photographs and newspaper clippings were all still framed and hung perfectly straight on the walls, and Uther was sitting at his large desk. The only difference was that he wasn't smiling.

"Sit," Uther directed.

Arthur sat in one of the two chairs in front of Uther's desk. "Something wrong?" he guessed.

"Have you spoken with Morgana?"

Morgana was Arthur's sister, his half-sister from Uther's first marriage, and she was their Head of Marketing.

"Not very recently, no. She's still in Wales, isn't she? She's been emailing me to set up a call, but I haven't—"

"A call about what?"

"I don't know. We haven't actually set up anything because I figured I'd just wait until she gets back. I didn't think it was about business. Is there a problem?"

"Problem?" Uther's eyebrows drew together for a moment, and then he spread his mouth in what must have been an attempt at a smile. "No."

"Then why are you interrogating me?"

"I'm not, I'm…" Uther cleared his throat. "I'm worried about her."

"Morgana?" Arthur clarified.

"Yes. I don't think she's happy here."

Arthur barely managed to muffle a snort of disbelief. "She was just promoted six months ago, of course she's happy here."

Uther shook his head but didn't elaborate any further.

"Well," Arthur said after a long period of silence, "if there's nothing I can help with—"

"Just keep an eye on her. Make sure she's not in over her head or… or stepping outside her bounds. All right?"

Arthur nodded, more to placate his father than because he understood the instructions or had any intention of following them. "Sure."

"Okay." Uther checked his watch. "I'm late for a call," he said and picked up his phone and started dialling.

Arthur watched for a moment, thoroughly mystified, before heading back toward the Research and Development labs.

Uther had always been competitive and keenly aware of both of his children's careers, but he'd never before voiced concern that they were reaching beyond their grasp or suggested that either of them needed help from the other. Arthur didn't even know what sort of help he could possibly provide, since the only thing his and Morgana's jobs had in common was the name of their employer.

When he got back to his desk, Arthur shot off a quick email to Morgana to let her know he would be free for a call any evening for the rest of the week. Then he made the rounds to check on his junior engineers.

The rest of the day continued on as normal, and Arthur tried to focus on his work, but he couldn't stop his mind from turning over that morning's conversations, first with Merlin and then with his father.

Merlin was funny and sweet and generous and… into Gwaine. Why wouldn't he be into Gwaine? Gwaine was hilarious and hot and so very, very open about what he wanted. It was hard to imagine anyone not falling for him, especially after Arthur had watched so many men do exactly that.

Gwaine never seemed totally comfortable in relationships, though, and his didn't usually last for more than a few hot and heavy months. Then they either fizzled out or blew up in his face, and he would just continue on to the next unwitting man.

If that was what Merlin wanted, then… well, Gwaine was the one to be with. Arthur had always been more subtle, more slow, more committed. He wanted something more than the endless cycle of sex and drama.

Not that his pursuits had left him any more satisfied than Gwaine. At least Gwaine could stick with a guy for a few weeks or months before deciding enough was enough. Arthur rarely made it to even a third date before realising that, yet again, he had not found 'the one.'

He wasn't entirely sure he believed in 'the one,' but he at least wanted something more than good company and good sex (or good company and bad sex, or bad company and good sex, or the unfortunately common bad company and bad sex). Surely one day he would be able to find a happy middle ground somewhere between soul mate and lacklustre boyfriend.

In the end, it didn't really matter. He would continue on, and Gwaine would continue on, and Merlin was probably just a pit stop. It wasn't even the first time he and Gwaine had been interested in the same man, and it probably wouldn't be the last, and he really just needed to stop thinking about it.

Which led him back to his father.

Uther was intense. Everyone knew that, and there was no sugar-coating it, but he wasn't mean or tyrannical. He had a lot of goals for Camelot Ltd, and he wasn't afraid to be aggressive in his pursuit of those goals. He'd done a lot to strengthen the financial health of the company, and generally he was very well thought of, both at Camelot and within the broader financial field.

He'd joined the company when Morgana had been born without her left hand, and he'd dedicated his entire life to it with such a passion that both of his children had followed him there. He'd only ever done what he'd believed was best for their family.

He'd been so proud when Arthur had been hired at Camelot, followed by Morgana, and ever since then he had taken every possible opportunity to sing their praises and predict that they'd both end up as directors one day.

But now he was… what was he doing? What had he found out about Morgana, and what was he worried that she was doing, or would do, or had already done? What could she do that he would ever consider stepping out of bounds as opposed to just growing in her role? What could she possibly be in over her head with? Morgana was one of the most dedicated members of Camelot's marketing team—that was why she'd been promoted in the first place—and she was just as ruthless and bold in her work as Uther had always wanted her to be.

Uther so rarely had a change of heart about anything—his eternal stubbornness was Arthur's least favourite thing about him—that it was impossible for Arthur to even begin to guess what was suddenly going on between him and Morgana.

And since Uther hadn't been willing to give up any information, that left only Morgana, who was in Wales to meet with partners and investors and the press and whomever else.

By the time Arthur finally left the office, he was exhausted.

And when he got home, Gwaine wasn't there.

And Gwaine continued to not be there all evening, likely because he was with Merlin somewhere, either at Merlin's flat or at some romantic restaurant for a proper seduction.

So Arthur poured himself some whisky and played more Ori and the Blind Forest, fully resigned to the fact that videos games were going to remind him of Merlin for the foreseeable future.

Thursday was suspiciously normal. There was enough going on at work that Arthur had been fully engrossed in it, Uther hadn't reached out again, and Morgana had calmly suggested that Arthur give her a ring whenever he was free that evening.

So, after an enjoyably productive day, Arthur treated himself to a takeaway from his favourite Indian restaurant and ate his dinner on the private balcony attached to his room. Since his connections with his uncle's company had granted him and his mates access to the flat, and since he paid for the bulk of it, Arthur lived in the master bedroom. Along with the balcony, he had floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, an unnecessarily large en suite, and a separate spa, also with full-length windows, that housed a hot tub.

He had far too much space in a far too fancy flat, and he loved it.

When he was down to the last few bites of his dinner, he phoned Morgana, put her on speakerphone, and set his mobile down on the table next to his lounge chair.

After exchanging basic pleasantries, Morgana asked, "Are you alone?"

"We're all alone, Morgana. It's the human condition."

"Don't be a shit, Arthur."

Arthur smirked and paused to eat before properly responding. "I'm on the balcony."

"Alone?"

"Yes, I'm alone. Are you setting a hitman on me or something?"

"No, I just… I don't want this overheard."

"What's going on?"

Arthur finished off his food while he waited for Morgana to explain.

"You know how Dad always said my mum was from Cardiff?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she wasn't. I looked her up when I got here, and she never even lived here."

Arthur grabbed his mobile and stood to lean on the balcony railing, not wanting to digest while sitting down.

"Maybe she lived nearby and just said she was from Cardiff since it's a recognisable place?"

"No, nothing like that. She was from all the way on the west coast."

"Hm. Maybe… I don't know, maybe he forgot."

"Does that seem likely to you?"

"No," Arthur admitted. "But I don't have a good explanation for you. Why were you looking her up?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Right," Arthur chuckled. "Sorry. I just ate and my brain's still stuck on food."

There was another long pause, and then Morgana asked, "Did you know they weren't married?"

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"Uther and my mother. They weren't married. He lied."

"Are you sure? Maybe whatever you looked at was outdated or—"

"No, they just were never married."

"I'm sure—"

"Arthur, you're not listening to me," Morgana said sharply. "They weren't married. She wasn't from Cardiff. He lied to me. To us. For decades!"

Arthur walked to one side of the balcony and then to the other, feeling restless. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know why he would have done that. Maybe he thought we wouldn't understand."

"When I was four, yes, I probably wouldn't have understood. But we're well past that point. And speaking of being four, I also found a copy of my birth records."

"Okay?"

"He's lied about the year I was born."

Arthur snorted. "That's stupid. I'm sure it was a typo."

"You're not listening to me," she said again. "I was born the same year as you. Not the year before."

Arthur sat back down on the edge of his chair. "How could you possibly be sure of that?"

"Why would multiple hospital and legal records be false?"

"I don't…"

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Arthur was afraid to admit that he did. "What?"

"It means he cheated on your mum with my mum and lied to cover it up."

"That's…" Arthur shook his head and got up to pace again. "That doesn't make any fucking sense, Morgana. Surely someone would have noticed if he really already had a child when his 'older' daughter was born."

"I don't think he had custody of me until after my mum died. Which was after your mum died. I'm sure it was very easy to fudge a few things on whatever documents he got his hands on."

Arthur stopped to lean on the railing again and scratched his forehead. Morgana had always been his older sister. He couldn't wrap his head around the logistics of that being a lie. He had so many questions. He had so many doubts. Sometimes Morgana got carried away when she felt strongly about something. Maybe this was one of those times.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Well," Morgana said, and Arthur could hear her voice starting to shake, "I was… I was curious, and I was upset, so I started checking back through company records and…"

"And?" Arthur asked, not liking her tone.

"And he's been stealing."

Arthur squinted, the lights of the city all blurring together in his vision. "From?"

"Are you daft? From Camelot!"

"Morgana," Arthur said, trying to be sensible. "Why would he steal from the company he's worked at for more than 30 years? From the company that makes the prosthetic hands his daughter has been using for her entire life?"

"I don't know, Arthur, why would he lie to that daughter about being married to her mother and the year she was born?"

Arthur shook his head and walked back to the other side of the balcony. "Look, I know you're upset, but just because he lied about those things doesn't mean he's been embezzling."

"What other explanation is there?"

"A typo," Arthur suggested, frustrated. "A miscalculation. Anything. You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not," she said, her voice steady again. "Once I found the paper trail, it became very clear. It's been going on for years, Arthur. Nearly since the beginning."

"It's not possible. Someone would have found out by now if that were the case."

"He's very smart," she said, deadpan. "He rarely did it the same way twice. He started off taking small amounts, a little bit at a time, just skimming here and there. Then he started shuffling around funds to an exhaustive extent, and now he's just inventing entire projects and depositing the money in his own accounts."

Arthur closed his eyes. "Morgana. Listen to yourself. Dad wouldn't do this. You know him."

"I thought I did, but he's been lying to me for as long as he's been stealing this money."

Arthur sat back down on the edge of his lounge chair. "Look, I'm sure there's some kind of explanation. Not for the lying about your mother," he added quickly, cutting off the beginning of her objection. "There's no excuse for that. Or the… birth year thing."

"Thank you."

"But lying about being married to a woman who's been dead for more than three decades doesn't seem like the first step toward embezzlement."

"He fucking doctored my birth certificate. If he's cold enough to lie to his family—and everyone else—why wouldn't he be cold enough to steal?"

"Morgana—"

"Whose side are you on?" she asked calmly.

"What? I'm not on anyone's side. I'm just—"

"I have the evidence I need. I'm going to confront him, and if he can't prove that he didn't do this, I'm taking it to the press."

"The press? What the hell, Morgana? If what you're saying really is true, then take it to the Board and let them investigate. If you're right, then…" Arthur sighed, frustrated that she'd managed to drag their conversation to this point. "Then they'll take the appropriate action."

"I have reason to believe the Board won't be able to conduct an unbiased investigation."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning I think someone, or maybe multiple someones, has been helping him cover his tracks, presumably for a cut of the profits."

Arthur ran a hand over his face. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"Are you? I'm telling you that our father is—"

"No, you're contriving a whole new person in your head, and it's not Dad. You're better than this, Morgana. I know you are. You're allowed to be upset with him for lying about your mum, but this isn't the way to fix that."

"He's not who you think he is. He's not who I thought he was, either. And I'm not going to let him keep doing this."

"So you're going to publicly ruin his name? And Camelot's reputation?"

"That's the risk he took when he stole the money."

Arthur shook his head. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe Morgana actually wanted to go through with this. "Well, I don't know what it is that you hoped to gain by telling me, but, whatever it is, I'm not interested. You're on your own if you do this. But remember that he's your family and this is your job. And mine. You don't need to blow it up just to get back at him for lying to you."

When the silence stretched on for too long, Arthur checked his mobile and saw that Morgana had hung up on him.

"Fuck," he said. And then louder, "Fuck!"

Resisting the urge to chuck his mobile over the edge of the balcony, Arthur gathered up his dishes and went back inside.

When he reached the kitchen, he found that Gwaine was already there, as well as Merlin. They were near the fridge, eye-fucking each other.

Arthur dropped his dishes in the sink loudly enough that Merlin jumped.

"Jesus," Gwaine said, clutching his chest. "What the hell was that for?"

Arthur said nothing and, grabbing the whisky he'd opened the night before, retreated to his room.

In the morning, Arthur skipped breakfast and hurried out of his flat as fast as he could, going straight to father's office as soon as he got to work.

He knocked, but there was no response, so he pulled out his mobile to ring Uther's desk phone. Before he could scroll through his contact list, Uther appeared at the end of the hall.

"Arthur," he said by way of greeting. "Do we have business?"

"No—"

"Then I don't have time." Uther unlocked his door and stepped inside his office. He nearly closed the door in Arthur's face, but Arthur held out a hand and pushed it open again. "I don't have time," Uther repeated.

"Then make time." Arthur forced his way inside and closed the door to give them privacy. "I spoke with Morgana last night."

"I don't want to hear it," Uther said dismissively. He sat down at his desk and began doing something on his computer.

"It sure seemed like you wanted to hear it yesterday."

"Arthur," Uther said, his voice stern and his gaze harsh as he looked up. Twenty years ago, Arthur would have cowered at his father's power. Now, he could match it.

"You do you know you're not acting like an innocent man."

He hadn't quite meant to say it like that. He didn't really believe—he had no reason to believe Morgana's version of the story. He just wanted to sort this out and move past it.

"I don't have time," Uther said, looking at his computer again. "And I don't want to hear it."

Arthur stared down at his father for a long moment, trying to see past the facade.

The only times Uther got like this was when he knew—knew—he was in the wrong but couldn't accept it. Instead of admitting fault or conceding fault or compromising, he would lash out and push people away. He would rather be alone than seen as weak.

It took so much to change his mind about something so deeply that he would ever budge.

Arthur had only succeeded once. When he first came out, Uther had behaved much worse than he was doing now. It had been a complete wreck, and he and Arthur didn't speak for over half a year. Because Arthur could be stubborn, too, when the situation called for it.

But then Arthur had got over himself and forced his way back into Uther's life and good graces. He never apologised for who he was or made any compromises about how he wanted to live his life, but he had been relentless, and, in the end, Uther hadn't wanted to lose a son.

Arthur had no leverage here, though. Uther wasn't going to let him in.

Which looked bad. It looked really, really bad.

And Uther had to know that. But he must have thought that this was better than whatever hit his reputation would take if he admitted to—to something. To whatever it was.

Or maybe it was just the perceived notion of guilt that Uther wanted to avoid, and he was choosing to boldly ignore the entire thing, even though that did exactly nothing to make him look good.

"I want to help," Arthur finally said, making one last effort. "I'm sure that whatever this is—"

"Don't you have work to be doing?" Uther asked without looking up.

Arthur threw up his hands and left, slamming the door behind him. Sometimes talking to his father was like talking to a brick wall.

A brick wall that had raised him and taught him that giving to others was the greatest thing he could do with his life.

But a brick wall nonetheless.

Arthur sequestered himself at his desk for the rest of the day and kept busy by starting from scratch, again, on one piece of the wrist joint he was trying to perfect.

Saturday night found Merlin stood in front of his bathroom sink, leaning over it as far as he could to get as close as possible to the mirror. He was trying to apply eyeliner, a task he'd never been particularly good at, and Gwaine was not helping.

"You ever fucked in the club?" Gwaine asked from where he was draped over Merlin's back, pressing Merlin against the sink and being a nuisance.

"Yeah," Merlin said. He didn't know how Gwaine could possibly be talking about sex when Merlin was making the most unattractive faces in his attempt to get the stupid eyeliner to look the way he wanted, but he supposed that it was Gwaine, and Gwaine could probably talk about sex anywhere, at any time.

"Yeah?" Gwaine tried to get his hand down the front of Merlin's jeans, but they were far too tight for that. "That's naughty."

"That's the point." Merlin braced his elbow on the mirror to get a steadier hand. "How come Arthur didn't want to join us?"

"Because he's a grump."

"Does getting drunk and getting off with strangers in a dark club not cure his grumpiness?"

"Apparently not." Gwaine pressed a kiss to the back of Merlin's neck as he leaned in closer and pushed Merlin's hipbones into the countertop.

"You know you're not helping here, right?"

Gwaine chuckled and finally stepped away. "Do you have any lipstick?"

Merlin scoffed. "No. Freya does, but I doubt she'd share it with you."

"We'll see." Gwaine said before leaving the bathroom to find her.

Merlin took the opportunity to close and lock the door because it was almost impossible to accomplish even the smallest tasks with Gwaine in the room, groping him at every opportunity.

When he was finally satisfied with his efforts, Merlin turned to look at himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

He looked… he looked queer as hell. He had the cuffs of his dark jeans rolled up, displaying the lighter underside of the fabric right above his shiny and very pointy-toed black shoes. And he was wearing the most ridiculous shirt he had found at a thrift store that afternoon: it almost looked like a normal patterned vest, but for whatever reason it had long, tight mesh sleeves. It was like fishnets for his arms, and it was the strangest article of clothing he'd ever owned. He looked like he was running away to join a circus of gay goth bikers.

"Oi!" Gwaine called out, knocking on the door and making the mirror rattle. "Ready?"

Merlin unlocked the door and was pinned to the wall as soon as he stepped into the hall.

"You going to let me touch you tonight?" Gwaine asked, his mouth pressed to Merlin's ear and his hand trailing over the front of Merlin's jeans.

Merlin smirked. "Maybe. I was thinking I could fuck you."

Gwaine pulled back enough for them to properly look at each other. He was now sporting a bold red lip that wasn't particularly well-matched with the colour of his beard, but he was owning the look.

"Yeah?"

Merlin nodded and reached around to grab at Gwaine's arse through his jeans. "Yeah. We can come back here after the club, and you can pick any dick you want and I'll fuck you with it." Merlin moved one hand to Gwaine's hair and tangled his fingers in it before tugging roughly, tilting Gwaine's head back so he could get his lips on Gwaine's neck. "Hard. Until you can't even walk. And then I'll fuck you again."

Gwaine hummed and leaned his entire weight against Merlin. "Should we just skip the club, then?"

"Didn't you want to fuck there, too?" Gwaine huffed, and Merlin smiled and pushed him away. "Come on. Let's at least make an appearance."

Gwaine followed Merlin down the hall and into the living room, where Gwen and her partner Lance were waiting, along with Freya and Leon. Leon immediately burst into laughter upon seeing Gwaine's lipstick, so Gwaine kicked him hard in the shins. Leon retaliated with a punch to Gwaine's shoulder, and Merlin had to tug Gwaine out the front door to avoid a wrestling match.

Merlin felt disgusting when he and Gwaine finally got back to his flat. They had stayed out far longer than planned, mostly because Merlin really did like to dance, and they were both dripping with sweat. And probably other unspeakable things because Gwaine had dragged Merlin into the loos toward the end of the night and fucked him in a stall. Merlin—already unbearably turned on from the hot and heavy grinding they'd been doing—had come so hard that his knees had nearly given out.

They quit the club shortly after that, leaving their friends somewhere amongst the sweaty masses, and came back to Merlin's with Gwaine whispering filthy things in his ear the entire trip.

"I need a shower," Merlin said once he had the front door locked. He stripped off his shirt and dropped it on top of Aithusa, distracting her enough that she didn't follow him across the living room.

He was naked when he reached the bathroom, his clothes leaving a trail that Gwaine dutifully followed, and he stepped into the shower before he'd even turned on the water.

"Ow, that's freezing," Gwaine said when he joined a minute later, all his clothes in a pile just outside the shower.

"Yeah, I was sweating my tits off."

Gwaine giggled, high-pitched and tipsy. "Oh, is that where they went?"

"Mhm." Merlin adjusted the temperature to get the water a little warmer, and as soon as it was to his liking, Gwaine moved into Merlin's personal space.

"Can I?" Gwaine asked, one hand brushing the inside of Merlin's thighs.

Merlin shuddered, fucking ready for it, and nodded.

Gwaine groaned and started sucking on the side of Merlin's neck as he finally got his fingers on Merlin's dick. He stroked it clumsily at first, then reached lower to tease Merlin's front and get his fingers slick, and after that Merlin stopped thinking.

It was really good—until Gwaine changed his strategy, moving his hand faster and rougher, catching the exposed head of Merlin's cock on his fingertips too many times, making Merlin jerk from the over-stimulation.

"Slow down," Merlin managed, resisting the urge to push Gwaine's hand away. "Not so hard."

Gwaine hummed, his mouth still on Merlin's neck, and switched tactics completely. He started pushing his fingers into Merlin, slowly to start and then building up a rhythm. Merlin spread his legs further, but Gwaine's technique didn't advance much past bluntly stabbing his fingers into Merlin's front.

Not wanting to take the time to teach Gwaine what he really liked—just wanting to move on to something that would leave him more satisfied—Merlin shifted his stance and closed his legs, forcing Gwaine to pull away.

"You want me to fuck you or what?" he asked.

Undeterred, Gwaine reached for Merlin's dick again, reverting to his earlier strategy of long, slow strokes that had Merlin's eyes rolling back.

"I want you to come first," he said huskily. "Can I use my mouth?"

Merlin shook his head and turned around, pressing his back to Gwaine's chest and covering Gwaine's hand with his own, showing him what to do.

"Yeah, like—" Merlin gasped when Gwaine's fingers found exactly the right spot. "Yeah. Yeah, there. Keep doing that."

Gwaine murmured something into Merlin's hair, and Merlin braced himself with both hands on the tiled walls of the shower. He wanted to come so badly—the only thing Gwaine ever made Merlin want to do was fuck himself to death—and he wanted to come all over Gwaine's hand. He could feel it pulsing in his hard dick, making him wetter, making him groan, making his cunt clench, making his head fuzzy and useless.

"Ff-ffaster," Merlin moaned, pressing his arse against Gwaine's straining cock.

"Yeah." Gwaine obeyed and licked up the shell of Merlin's ear. "You gonna come for me?"

"Fuck—" Merlin reached up and grabbed at the shower head to keep himself steady as he started coming, the orgasm rolling through him and making him gasp and nearly choke on the water stream.

Gwaine wrapped his free arm around Merlin's chest, holding him upright, and continued rubbing him until Merlin pulled his hand away.

"Holy shit," Gwaine breathed against Merlin's neck. "Fuck, I need to come. You're so fucking hot."

Merlin turned and got to his knees quickly, in part because he didn't have enough strength to keep standing, and sucked Gwaine's entire cock into his mouth. He reached down to pull on his dick a few times, jerking a little at the bright bursts of pleasure still shocking through him, and it didn't take more than a few seconds for Gwaine to grab his hair and come down his throat with a grunt.

When Gwaine staggered back to lean against the wall, Merlin sat back on his haunches and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

"You're the best fuck I've had in a long time," Gwaine said.

Merlin grinned and looked up to see Gwaine licking his still-red lips.

"And we haven't even got to the fucking part, yet."

Gwaine pulled Merlin to his feet and they rinsed off again before sneaking across the hall, naked, to Merlin's room.

"Okay, time to play Pick a Dick," Merlin said as he pulled open a bureau drawer.

Gwaine stepped closer and his eyes widened comically at the array of toys. "Jesus Christ."

"Not sure he has anything to do with this," Merlin teased.

Gwaine picked up a purple, ribbed, double-ended dildo.

"What's this bit for?" he asked, poking the shorter, more bulbous side.

"That bit is for me."

Gwaine grinned and pushed his damp hair out of his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Get on the bed."

Merlin handed him some lube and smacked his arse as he followed instructions. With Gwaine momentarily distracted, Merlin fit the dildo into his harness and slathered the shorter end with more lube before stepping into the harness and pushing that end into his front.

"Wow," Gwaine said when he turned around. Gwaine was up near the pillows, one hand buried between his legs as he prepared himself.

Merlin smirked and ran his hand over the silicone dick, keeping his eyes on Gwaine and relishing the feeling of jerking himself off.

Gwaine pulled his fingers out of his arse, crawled to the edge of the bed, and, tugging Merlin forward, sank his mouth around the dildo with no preamble. Merlin ran his hands over Gwaine's wet, tangled hair and pushed his hips forward a little, enjoying the pressure of the strap-on against his own cock. Gwaine hummed and slipped his fingers under the sides of the harness, pulling Merlin even closer and taking more of the dick into his mouth.

"Come on," Merlin said, stepping back when it became too much of a tease. "Ready?"

Gwaine lay back on the bed and Merlin followed, rubbing more lube over the dildo.

"You any good with that thing?" Gwaine teased as Merlin spread his legs and got lined up.

"You tell me," Merlin said before pushing in the tip.

Gwaine inhaled sharply and lifted his hips, forcing Merlin to change the angle.

"All right?" Merlin asked when he was halfway in.

Gwaine was red in the face, but he nodded quickly. "Yeah, come on."

Merlin slid the rest of the way in and then shifted until his knees were on the outside of Gwaine's hips and Gwaine's legs were wrapped loosely around his waist.

"This good for you?" Gwaine asked, adjusting the pillow under his head.

"Oh yeah." Merlin rocked his hips a little. "You?"

"Yeah. Show me what you got."

Merlin rolled his eyes, grabbed onto Gwaine's hips, and began fucking him in earnest.

He moved slowly at first, testing out what felt good for him and what seemed to feel good for Gwaine, until he had the angles sorted and could start focusing on speed.

"Oh, fuck," Gwaine groaned when Merlin reached up to tweak one of his nipples.

Merlin smirked and carried on, gradually going faster and faster, until Gwaine finally started pulling on his own dick. He waited for Gwaine to fall into a rhythm, and then he leaned forward a bit, got his knees under him, and pulled Gwaine's hips up until their stomachs were pressed together and there was no room for Gwaine's hand.

"Oh, thats—" Gwaine arched further off the bed and turned his head into the pillow. "Fuck, yeah, Merlin," he groaned, his voice muffled. "That's so fucking good."

Merlin grunted in agreement and fucked Gwaine faster and harder, the double-ended dildo doing everything right for him. The pressure and friction on his dick was driving him to distraction, and the end of the dildo inside him was pushing hard against his G-spot every time he moved his hips in a certain way. He was going to come again if he didn't slow down.

"Don't stop," Gwaine moaned when Merlin sat up a little.

"Not stopping," Merlin breathed. He grabbed Gwaine's legs and manoeuvred them until they were bent, knees digging into either side of his chest and heels pressed against his arse. He gripped Gwaine's thighs and fucked him deep, making him groan again.

"Yeah, that's good," Gwaine babbled, pushing his hips back against Merlin's thrusts. "Fuck, that's perfect." He reached between them to stroke himself again, his knuckles brushing against Merlin's stomach.

Merlin hung his head to watch, but after a few seconds he had to close his eyes against the pressure building in his middle. He wasn't ready to come—he wouldn't be able to handle the intense stimulation of the dildo after he came—and he just needed to hold on.

"Are you close?" Gwaine asked, sounding strained.

Merlin slipped his forearms under Gwaine's knees and braced his hands on the bed so he could move faster. Gwaine grunted and then reached above his head with his free hand, his palm slamming into Merlin's headboard.

"I'm—I'm—" Gwaine's voice broke and then he went very still for a second, teetering on the edge until Merlin pushed in again. He came with a series of loud, stuttering moans, and Merlin fucked him through it, barely holding back.

"Oh, fuck." Gwaine shuddered when Merlin knocked the dildo against his prostate again. "Fuck, give me a minute."

Merlin didn't need to be asked twice. He pulled out and tugged off the harness, the dildo popping out of him with a soft squelch.

"What…" Gwaine asked vaguely, one hand still pulling the last of his pleasure out of himself.

Merlin straddled Gwaine's chest and leaned forward slightly to grip the top of his headboard for balance. He rubbed his dick with his free hand, giving Gwaine another close-up show, and Gwaine's whimper of want pushed him over the edge.

He couldn't stop the sounds pouring out of him as he came again, barely held up by his hand on the headboard and Gwaine's hands on his thighs. The muscles in his thighs were shaking, every nerve ending on or near his dick was sparking, and he was pretty sure he was going to pass out if his orgasm didn't slow down soon.

"Shit," he muttered when he finally had enough control over himself to flop onto the bed next to Gwaine. He continued brushing his fingers over his cock, taking as much as his body was willing to give him, and buried his face in Gwaine's arm.

"God damn, Merlin," Gwaine said when he finally calmed down.

Merlin snorted. "Yeah. Fuck yeah."

"I can't even move." Gwaine's voice was deep and slow, and Merlin desperately wanted to curl up next to him and fall asleep within the next 30 seconds.

"You don't have to," he said, his lips pressed against Gwaine's bicep.

"You neither." Gwaine waved one hand vaguely, perhaps to emphasise his point.

"I do," Merlin said. "I do."

"Don't," Gwaine counted.

"Do." Merlin took a deep breath and, letting out a pathetic noise, pushed himself up until he was sitting.

"Don't," Gwaine said again, trailing his fingers down one of Merlin's arms.

"Do. Definitely do. I'll be back." He got off the bed with a grunt and went back to the bathroom across the hall, still naked, to pee and get a facecloth.

When he came back, Gwaine was already snoring. Rolling his eyes, Merlin leaned over the bed and wiped up the mess on Gwaine's chest for him.

"Not a child," Gwaine muttered, waking up enough to weakly pull the cloth from Merlin's hand.

"Never said you were." Merlin let Gwaine finish cleaning himself off as he turned out the light and then yanked the covers out from under Gwaine so they could both get under them.

"In the morning," Gwaine whispered as he wrapped himself around Merlin. "Talk."

"Okay," Merlin said, already losing the battle to keep his eyes open. "Morning talk."

"Mmm."

Merlin exhaled in agreement and tried to find Gwaine's hand to hold, but he fell asleep mid gesture.

In the morning, Merlin woke when Gwaine's snoring grew so loud that he was worried it might also wake up Freya two rooms over.

If Freya was even home, which she might not be.

Merlin rolled onto his stomach, away from Gwaine, and was treated to the smell of his own sweat as he breathed into his pillow.

Gwaine snorted and then let out a yawn that made him sound like a walrus.

Merlin lifted his head and forced himself to open his eyes. Gwaine was staring at him, looking deeply unimpressed with the concept of morning.

"Hey," Merlin said, and his voice sounded like he'd been screaming for days. He cleared his throat and pressed his face back into the pillow.

Gwaine grunted and moved closer to drape an arm over Merlin's back.

"Morning. My arse hurts."

Merlin managed a chuckle. "Good."

"Yeah." Gwaine pressed a kiss to Merlin's shoulder. "It was."

Merlin heaved a sigh and then pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Ugh. What time is it?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

Merlin rolled onto his back, out from under Gwaine's arm. "Bed time, do you think?"

"Probably not," Gwaine said, giving Merlin's side a poke.

"Where do you think my mobile is?"

"I think you took your jeans off in the hall."

"Of course I did," Merlin muttered. He sat up, his body protesting every movement, and stood.

"You have a great butt," Gwaine called after him as he went into the hall, naked.

Merlin followed the trail of his clothes to the front door, picking them up along the way. He found his mobile with the battery dead, but thankfully Aithusa hadn't chewed on it.

When Merlin came back to his room, Gwaine was standing and stretching. He was naked, too, and his dick was hard, and if Merlin weren't exhausted and hungover, he would have dragged Gwaine into his bed and fucked him all over again.

Instead of doing all that, Merlin just went to his bureau, pulled on a clean pair of pants, and lay down on top of his covers. He plugged his mobile in and tried to talk himself out of going back to sleep.

Gwaine sat down on the edge of the bed and trailed his fingers over Merlin's ankles. "All right?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. I know you wanted to talk, but you're going to need to get at least somewhat dressed before I can have a serious conversation with you."

Gwaine smiled and leaned down to kiss one of Merlin's ankles. "I suppose that's fair." He got up and went across the hall to the bathroom, and when he came back he had on pants and was carrying the rest of his clothes in a bundle.

"How's this?" Gwaine asked, dropping his clothes on the floor and revealing his hard cock sticking out of the fly of his briefs.

Merlin blinked, his vision still a little bleary. "Incredibly sexy."

Gwaine tucked himself back in and flopped down on his stomach next to Merlin.

"Can I ask an inappropriate question?"

"I feel like you would ask even if I said no, so sure."

Gwaine smirked. "I just wanted to know if… like, are your orgasms any different now? Than what they used to be like?"

Merlin reached out to play with Gwaine's hair. "No one's ever asked me that before," he said. "I don't know if they feel different while they're happening, but… they're easier to come by than they used to be, for the most part. So that's nice."

Gwaine folded his arms and rested his head on them like a pillow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Merlin clasped his hands over his stomach. "Is that really what you wanted to talk about?"

"No." Gwaine cleared his throat and licked his lips. "I wanted to ask what you're looking for. What you want out of this. What you need from me."

Merlin closed his eyes as his head throbbed a little at the prospect of this conversation. They hadn't even kissed, and Merlin had followed Gwaine's lead on that, so he'd assumed from the first night that it was nothing more than sex.

"I don't know," he admitted, peeking at Gwaine with one eye. "I'm just having a good time. You?"

"I'm…" Gwaine frowned and turned onto his back. "I'm really hung up on this other guy, but he is so straight it hurts, and you are a very sexy distraction."

Merlin was surprised at how relieved he was to hear that. "I'm sorry," he offered. "I'm happy to keep being that distraction."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Merlin dropped one hand to the bed and brushed his pinky finger over the waistband of Gwaine's pants. "As long as you're okay with… I mean, I know you want to, um… I don't usually, with guys I'm not, like, in a relationship with—"

"It's all right," Gwaine said, turning onto his side. He pressed a kiss to a freckle on Merlin's arm. "There's plenty else we can do."

Merlin murmured in agreement and sighed when Gwaine draped an arm over his chest and cuddled closer.

"Going back to sleep?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. If I go back to sleep then I can't have breakfast, so… no."

Merlin chuckled and petted Gwaine's hair. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Is there anything I can do to tempt you into making waffles again?"

"Oh, there's lots you could do," Merlin teased. "But I don't have a waffle maker."

"We can go back to mine," Gwaine muttered, doing a poor job of not going back to sleep.

"And I have to take out Aithusa."

"Is that antithetical to waffles?"

"That's a big word for a hangover."

Gwaine grunted and gave another walrus-sounding yawn before sitting up. "Okay," he said. "Let's do the dog thing. And then the waffle thing."

Gwaine stood and held out his hands to pull Merlin out of bed as well. They dressed as quickly as they could, which wasn't very quickly at all, and then went to collect Aithusa from her spot in Merlin's office.

"How do you get to the balcony?" Gwaine asked, peering out the windows in the office.

"There's doors in my and Freya's rooms."

Gwaine turned back around, shaking his head. "I thought that was a cupboard door."

"I have one of those, too," Merlin teased. He finished hooking on Aithusa's lead and followed Gwaine out of the flat and over to the lifts. "Did you see if Freya's door was open?" he asked once they were on their way down to the lobby.

"No," Gwaine said around a yawn. "I don't know which door is hers."

"You're having a rough time with doors this morning."

"Shut it."

Merlin smirked and tightened his grip on Aithusa's lead when the lift dinged and opened. He let Aithusa guide him over to her favourite patch of grass and then around all the nearby bushes. Gwaine trailed behind, mostly just yawning and humming.

It felt comfortable and domestic and probably not what it should feel like, considering the conversation they'd just had.

Merlin walked Aithusa once around their block of flats, but that was all he could handle on an empty and hungover stomach, so he followed Gwaine up to the penthouse after that.

Aithusa immediately made herself at home, snorting happily and scrambling up the stairs to the loft.

"Wow, she just really knows where all the sex is at, huh?"

"She's a pervert," Merlin agreed as he hung Aithusa's lead over the doorknob. "I need food or I'm going to kill someone."

"Then by all means." Gwaine gestured toward the kitchen.

Merlin took a few minutes to dig through all the cupboards, having forgotten where everything was, but eventually he had the batter mixed and ready to pour.

"I can take over from here," Gwaine offered, pushing himself up from where he had been slumped at the kitchen island.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah, you've done plenty." Gwaine gave Merlin's hip a squeeze as he took his place by the waffle iron and started pouring in batter.

Merlin leaned against the fridge and let himself stare at Gwaine's muscles as he idly stirred the batter.

"Enjoying the show?" Gwaine asked, giving Merlin a sleepy smile.

"I've seen better."

"You're so mean to me."

Merlin grinned and slid down to the floor as Aithusa came into the kitchen. She settled herself in his lap and he scratched behind her ears, leaning his head on the fridge and fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Waffles again?" Arthur asked, appearing in the doorway.

Merlin blinked up again him, a little disappointed to see that he was wearing a shirt this time.

"Again?" Gwaine asked as he took the first waffle out of the iron.

Arthur flushed and looked down briefly at Merlin before crossing the kitchen to get himself a glass of water.

Merlin hunched over Aithusa a bit, scratching under her chin. He hadn't told Gwaine about his run-in with Arthur during his first waffle-making morning earlier that week. He hadn't thought it would matter. He hadn't wanted to dwell on how hot-and-cold Arthur was with him, especially whenever Gwaine came up in their conversation. He hadn't wanted to go there with Gwaine, not when he hadn't known where they stood at the time, and not when he had spent the rest of the morning daydreaming about Arthur's bare torso.

Apparently Arthur hadn't mentioned it to Gwaine, either.

"Again?" Gwaine asked again when no one had answered him the first time.

"Arthur saw me making them a few days ago," Merlin explained without looking up from Aithusa.

Arthur made a non-committal noise, and when Merlin looked up again, he was leaning against the counter and staring down into his water glass.

"How was the club?" he asked.

"Scandalous," Gwaine said, giving Merlin an unsubtle wink.

Arthur glanced between Gwaine and Merlin. Merlin blushed at the obvious implication, and Arthur gulped down his entire glass.

"All right." Gwaine poured more batter into the waffle maker and then held out a plate. "Who wants the first one?"

Merlin looked at Arthur, but Arthur was staring at the floor. "Me," Merlin said, lifting Aithusa out of his lap so he could get up. She trotted over to Arthur and head-butted his ankle.

Gwaine handed over the first waffle and Merlin settled at the island and stuffed as much as he could into his mouth, desperate for anything to be in his stomach besides the previous night's alcohol. He got several bites in before realising that he should ask if Arthur and Gwaine had any syrup, or at least butter.

When Merlin looked up, Arthur was refilling his glass. Then, silently, he pulled a carton of ice cream out of the freezer, slid it across the island to Merlin, and left the kitchen.

Gwaine added batter for a third waffle before sitting down across from Merlin and helping himself to the second waffle and a heaping scoop of ice cream.

"Apparently whatever Arthur did instead of going out with us did not cure his grumpiness."

"No," Merlin agreed, watching Aithusa lick up a bit of waffle batter that had dripped onto the floor.

He wanted to call Arthur back, to make it better somehow, to make it less unbearably awkward, to make it so that Arthur could at least attempt to make eye contact with him.

But he didn't know what the problem was. And he needed to eat breakfast.

Arthur was starving, but there was no way he could go back into the kitchen to get food. Not with Merlin and Gwaine still in there, eating their morning-after waffles.

Gwaine had invited him out the night before, saying that Leon and Freya and Gwen and Gwen's partner were all going as well, but Arthur hadn't wanted to be a third wheel. Or a seventh wheel. He didn't want to have to deal with being the only un-paired person in their group, forced to find his own partner to dance with. Especially not when they hadn't even gone to a gay club.

He very clearly needed to get laid, though. He was letting this Merlin thing get out of hand. Merlin was with Gwaine, and they were both happy, and Arthur needed to move on before it got any more awkward than it already was.

He was probably being so obvious. Merlin most likely knew what was going on. It was only a matter of time before Gwaine caught on, too. And then it would be unbearable. So Arthur needed to stop it, and now. Whatever switch Merlin had turned on inside of him, he needed to figure out how to turn it off. And leave it off, indefinitely.

To distract himself while he waited for the kitchen to be free, Arthur settled down on the lounge sofa and tried to find a video game to play. After a few minutes of mindless scrolling, he finally decided just to open up his latest Minecraft game and zone out while building something new.

Eventually, just as Arthur was thinking he might need to get dressed and go out for breakfast, Merlin and Gwaine emerged from the kitchen.

And came straight into the lounge to watch Arthur's game.

"Here." Arthur passed the controller to Gwaine as soon as he'd sat down. "Do whatever. I'll be back in a minute."

Not waiting for Gwaine to respond, Arthur got up and went into the kitchen. He poured himself a large bowl of cereal and shovelled in a few dry mouthfuls before getting out the milk and turning on the kettle.

Once he had a mug of tea and a re-filled bowl of cereal, he went back out to the lounge and settled on the sofa between Gwaine and Merlin, who were sitting on the far ends.

"You should have had some waffles," Merlin said when he sat down. "I could have made more."

"I wasn't hungry before," Arthur lied. He took the controller back to save and quit his game. "Any requests?"

"What do you have?" Merlin asked when Gwaine didn't answer.

Arthur passed the controller to Merlin and went back to his breakfast as Merlin scrolled through his game collection.

"Do you like Inside?" Merlin asked.

"I haven't played it. I liked Limbo, but… I don't know, I think Leon maybe bought Inside. I keep forgetting it's on there."

"I've played it," Gwaine said as he stretched his legs out on the chaise lounge end of the sofa. "It's still very Caligari-esque."

"But with colour," Merlin added.

Arthur had no idea what that meant.

"Didn't Caligari have colour?" Gwaine asked. "Like, mono-colour?"

"Yeah. Inside is pretty much the same."

"So," Arthur said after an awkwardly long pause in the conversation. "Should we… play it?"

"If you want." Merlin tried to hand over the controller, but Arthur shook his head.

"You can go for it. I'm still eating."

Merlin shrugged and started up a new game. Arthur and Gwaine watched in silence as he went through the introduction.

"Did you work on this?" Arthur asked as Merlin dove into the gameplay with confidence.

"Nah, I've just played it a lot. I know some of the guys who made it."

"Do you make video games?" Gwaine asked, sounding surprised.

Arthur frowned and took a sip of his tea. How could Merlin and Gwaine not know what each other did for a living? They'd been spending practically every night—and morning—together all week.

"Yeah, concept art," Merlin said. "You still do photography?"

"No, that was an impossible career. I do colour editing for films and some BBC series."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I work for a studio. Do you?"

"No, I'm freelance." Merlin guided his character to an area of the game that didn't look like it was part of the main path. "I used to work for a studio in Montréal, and I still do a lot of stuff for them, but I'm a free man, now."

"Montréal?" Gwaine asked, pillowing his arms behind his head. "Did you live there?"

"Yeah, for a few years. Right up until I moved in with Freya, actually."

Arthur sunk lower against the sofa cushions, thinking over his escape options. Merlin and Gwaine were having what was basically a first date conversation, and he was literally sitting right between them.

"What are the guys like in Canada?"

Merlin smirked. "Same as they are here, just with sillier accents. I was dating a British guy pretty much the whole time I was there, though."

"Why? Were the accents that bad?"

"No, we moved there together. It was Gwen's brother, actually. We'd been dating for a while, and then I got a job offer there, so… yeah."

"What brought you back to London?" Arthur asked before he could stop himself.

Merlin glanced over at him and then at Gwaine. "I wanted to be in England," he said. "Elyan moved to Toronto, so we broke up, and my studio agreed to contract with me as a remote freelancer, so…" Merlin shrugged. "It was either that or move to LA, which I'm trying to avoid doing as much as possible."

"What's wrong with LA? Even worse accents?" Gwaine teased.

"Yeah. Plus, I hear they get actual sun over there, like every day, and I wouldn't know how to handle it."

Gwaine chuckled. "Yeah, you're far too pasty for actual sun."

"Cheers." Merlin placed a checkpoint and paused the game. "Anyone else want a turn?"

Arthur was about to take the opportunity to excuse himself, but then Aithusa wandered in and started trying to climb up his legs.

"She's bad at jumping," Merlin explained, leaning over to push her away. "Sorry."

"That's—" Aithusa went back to pawing at Arthur's jeans, so he leaned down to pick her up. She settled in his lap, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

"You can push her off," Merlin said. He reached out to scratch behind her ears. "She's spoiled."

"I don't mind," Arthur admitted. He stroked Aithusa's back and she turned her head around to give him an adoring look.

"Pass me the controller?" Gwaine asked, holding out his hand.

Merlin leaned over Arthur to hand it over, bracing himself on Arthur's arm so he wouldn't lose his balance and topple off the sofa.

Arthur froze. One of Merlin's long, muscular, glorious arms was stretched across his entire field of vision, and fuck. He'd nearly been able to forget what effect those arms had on him.

When Merlin sat back up, Arthur dug both hands under Aithusa to scratch at her belly. He was losing his mind. One brief touch of Merlin's hand and one brief glimpse of Merlin's arms shouldn't have completely derailed him like that.

He needed to go. He needed to get up and find something else to do. He needed to—he had nothing else to do. Nothing else except mope in his room about his sister and his father, who were both ignoring all of his attempts to contact them. Maybe he could go for a run or hide in the gym or go to the cinema or—

Leon and Freya emerged from Leon's room, looking laughably dishevelled. Leon was just wearing a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms, but Freya had on a short dress that Arthur assumed she had worn out to the club the night before.

When he noticed everyone in the lounge, Leon paused and gave a meagre wave before escorting Freya into the foyer.

Arthur looked back at the telly to see that Gwaine had started up the game again. He tried to concentrate on that and the soft warmth of the dog in his lap, but, it was futile.

After a minute or so, Leon came back into the flat.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the bookshelf that separated the lounge from the living room. "What are you playing?"

"Inside," Gwaine answered without taking his eyes off the screen. "It's your game, right?"

"Probably. I think I bought it when it was on sale, but I never actually played it."

"Come watch?"

Leon shrugged and settled himself on the sofa between Gwaine and Arthur. He scratched under Aithusa's chin, making her snort appreciatively.

"We missed you at the club," Leon said to Arthur. "What did you end up doing?"

Arthur had spent the evening in his hot tub with whisky and an audiobook, but he certainly wasn't going to share that in front of Merlin.

"Just, you know…" Arthur trailed off, realising he hadn't come up with an answer before he'd started speaking.

"Porn?" Gwaine guessed.

"Fuck off," Arthur muttered. Leave it to Gwaine to point out how he was clearly the only one in the room who hadn't hooked up with someone the night before.

Leon yawned loudly and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "Well, you should come next time. It was fun."

"Mhm," Arthur murmured. He lifted Aithusa out of his lap and into Leon's instead. "I'm going to… go," he finished lamely as he stood.

Ignoring Gwaine's calls for him to stay, Arthur went back to his room.

On Monday morning, Arthur got to his office and started work as usual. He spent most of his morning working with one of his junior engineers and the rest of it in interviews for Camelot's open prosthetist position.

When he stepped out for lunch, there were no less than four camera crews stationed outside the office.

Arthur's stomach dropped—he felt like he was going to be sick right there on the front steps of the building.

Morgana had done something.

Or Uther had.

Arthur hurried off to one of the cafes around the corner, scrolling through the news on his mobile. Based on his cursory searching of Camelot and Uther and Morgana's names, it didn't look like anything had been published. At least, not yet.

Maybe the camera crews had been there for some other coincidental reason.

Arthur knew better than to hope that, so he ate his sandwich and chips as quickly as possible and then went back to the office. The cameras were all still there, pointing at Camelot's glass-paned building, but there were no more hints about what was going on.

When he was safe inside the lobby, Arthur placed a call to Morgana.

She didn't answer.

He called his father, but Uther didn't answer either.

Finally, desperate, Arthur returned to the Research and Development labs and went in search of his director.

He found her in her office, seemingly expecting him.

"Close the door," Annis instructed when Arthur came in. "Have a seat."

Arthur closed the door but couldn't bring himself to sit. He had too much nervous energy to be still, so he stood behind the chair, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet.

"Why are there news vans outside?"

"Please," Annis said with a tight smile. "Sit."

"I—"

"Arthur."

Arthur swallowed heavily and sat down. He crossed one leg over the other and tapped his foot against the air.

"Your father is… resigning. Effective today."

"Resigning," Arthur repeated blankly. "Against his will, I assume."

"He was given a choice." Annis considered him for a long moment and then sighed, her hard expression morphing into something more concerned. "Your sister looked through decades of Camelot's financial records when she was in Wales, and she found evidence that your father had been mishandling large portions of our funds."

"That's a very diplomatic way of putting it," Arthur said, slumping in the chair. "She mentioned that to me last week, but… but it's not—he didn't actually—why is he resigning? I know my father, and he wouldn't do this. You know him, too! Surely there's been some kind of—"

"He hasn't denied it," Annis said quietly. "Morgana went to him over the weekend, and when that didn't resolve it, she went to the Board this morning. He was given the chance to explain, to admit or deny, to apologise, but he didn't. He just resigned and walked out."

Arthur shook his head. "He wouldn't…"

"I think you know that he would, Arthur. And it seems that he did. No one forced him to leave."

Arthur ran a hand over his mouth, trying to think. "I don't… I don't know what to say."

A long moment passed between them, and then Annis said, "Morgana has also resigned."

Arthur stood, unable to sit still for another moment. "What do you mean?"

Annis shrugged. "I mean what I said. She resigned after Uther did. She hasn't said why. It doesn't look good."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked again, circling the chair to stand behind it again.

"The Board wasn't going to retaliate. She wasn't in any trouble. She was always in very good standing here."

"And?"

"And she exposed her father's embezzling and resigned. Maybe she was involved and felt that she wasn't getting her fair share."

Arthur felt his mouth drop open. "You—what? Morgana wasn't involved in—she didn't… she wouldn't. You know she wouldn't."

Annis shrugged again. "I don't know anything other than what I've been told, Arthur. She wasn't being pushed out, she would have been welcome to stay, but she left. It makes her motives look… personal. Rather than professional."

Arthur shook his head. "She was upset with…" He trailed off, the full picture of what had apparently happened that morning coming together in his mind. "Do I still have a job?"

"That's up to you. I don't have any reason to doubt your loyalty, but I can't promise the Board feels the same. They're working through Morgana's evidence, and there's going to be an investigation. I imagine you're going to come under suspicion."

Arthur felt his hands starting to shake, and he stuffed them in his pockets. "I haven't done anything. I didn't know anything. I can't…"

"Arthur," Annis said bracingly. "You're not being sacked. You just have to understand how this looks and prepare yourself for whatever questions are going to be asked of you."

"I don't have any answers," Arthur snapped. "I haven't done anything! No one's done—" He cut himself off. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. "I need to go."

"Of course. I'm not expecting you to be—"

Whatever Annis had to say didn't matter. Arthur left her office even as she was still speaking. He managed to make it back to his desk to get his bag, and then he walked out of the building as quickly as he could. There were still camera crews outside, but he ignored them. He made his way to the nearest docking station for Boris bikes and rode home on autopilot.

Of course, when Arthur got back to his flat, Merlin was there.

He and Gwaine were in the lounge, watching something on the telly and laughing like their whole lives weren't falling apart.

"Hey!" Gwaine called after him as he headed for the kitchen. "What are you doing home?"

Arthur ignored him and searched blindly through the cupboards, looking for nothing.

When he stepped back, he found every single cupboard door open.

"Fuck." He was losing it.

He wasn't hungry—it wasn't time for dinner and he hadn't had lunch that long ago—but he needed to do something, so he opened up a can of soup and started warming it on the stovetop.

"I think you're burning your soup," Merlin said.

Arthur looked up, and Merlin filling up a glass of water at the sink. He looked back down and saw that his soup was boiling down and starting to stick to the bottom of the pot.

How long had he been standing there?

"Thanks," Arthur muttered, turning off the burner. He poured the soup into a bowl and set the pot in the sink to be scrubbed out later.

"You all right?" Merlin asked, frowning. "You look… not all right."

"I'm fine." Arthur pulled open a drawer to get a spoon but found that he had opened the wrong one. He floundered for a moment, confused, before turning around to find the right drawer.

"Gwaine said you usually work until 5 or 6," Merlin pressed.

"Yeah. I…" Arthur stirred his still-bubbling soup with the spoon. "There was…"

Feeling weak, Arthur sat down at the island and covered his face with both hands.

"Whoa, hey," Merlin said. He put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Arthur shook his head and shrugged, trying to dislodge Merlin's hand, but it stayed put. He took a few deep breaths and uncovered his face.

"My father has been embezzling from the company we both work at. My sister works there, too, and she just exposed him to the Board and to the press. And they both resigned. And they both look guilty as fuck and I'm—I'm… I don't know if I can stay there. I don't know if I'll be able to get another job if I leave. And I don't know what to do about the fact that my father is a fucking liar and a criminal and that my own sister just betrayed him."

"Oh, wow." Merlin sat across from Arthur and reached across the island to give Arthur's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry. That's… a lot. That all happened this morning?"

Arthur nodded. He looked down at his soup and his stomach clenched. Fuck, he was going to be sick. He was—no. No, he was having a panic attack.

Arthur stood ungracefully and made his way to the bathroom in the hall, not trusting himself to make it all the way to his room. He closed the door and dropped to the floor, trying to breathe even as his throat seemed to be closing up. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling and he couldn't see anything, he couldn't hear anything, he was completely fucking losing it and he might actually die on this dusty tiled floor.

The next thing Arthur was aware of was the ragged, rapid sound of his own hyperventilating. He was still on the floor of the bathroom, and he still couldn't breathe, and his chest was seizing and his stomach was churning, and now he really was going to be sick.

He scrambled to the toilet and vomited.

It hurt and did nothing to make him feel better or ease his breathing.

When he was finished and empty, Arthur flushed and wiped off his mouth with toilet roll.

His found his face damp, but not from sweat. He was crying. No wonder he couldn't breathe.

Arthur leaned against the wall across from the toilet and tried to pull himself together. He hadn't had a panic attack in years, and he had forgotten how truly hellish they were, but he knew it would pass. It had to pass. Somehow. Either that or he was going to have a heart attack from how hard and fast his heart was pounding in his chest. He hoped he wasn't going to be sick again.

There was a knock on the door and Arthur registered the fact that he was in the hall bathroom, not his own, and that he probably hadn't locked the door.

When he didn't answer, the door opened.

It was Merlin. He crouched down next to Arthur and held out a glass of water.

Arthur shook his head and closed his eyes, mortified. Why did Merlin of all people have to be the one who found him like this?

Merlin set the glass on the floor. "Are you all right?"

Arthur nodded even though they both knew he was far from all right.

"Can I get you anything besides water? Do you have any… medicine, or…"

"No," Arthur managed. His voice was barely more than a croak. "No, I'm… just… I'm fine."

"It's okay if you're not," Merlin said, and then he was petting Arthur's hair.

Arthur sniffled and grabbed more toilet roll to blow his nose. He needed to pull himself together, at least enough to get to the privacy of his own room, but he knew he legs didn't have enough strength to get him down the hall. He barely had enough strength in his arms to reach out for the glass of water. He could barely even keep up his own head.

Merlin took the glass back after Arthur had a few sips of water, probably because of how badly his hands were shaking.

Fuck, this was humiliating.

That thought pushed Arthur over the edge again and he started sobbing before he could stop it. He pulled his legs up to his chest and cried into his knees, gasping for air and wishing Merlin would just leave him in peace.

Instead, Merlin continued petting his hair, sometimes dropping his hand lower to rub at Arthur's back.

Why was Merlin so fucking nice? He barely even knew Arthur.

Eventually, finally, Arthur cried himself out and was able to get his breathing somewhat under control.

"More water?" Merlin asked, squeezing Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur nodded, and when he took the glass from Merlin, his hands weren't shaking anymore.

"Hey!"

There was another knock and Arthur realised that Merlin had closed the door when he'd come in. He and Merlin were in the bathroom together—had been in there for a while together—with the door closed.

Merlin turned and opened the door to let Gwaine in.

"Shit," Gwaine said, taking in the scene. "What happened?"

Arthur shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"He's all right," Merlin answered for him. "Something about his… job and his dad and his sister, I think."

Arthur used the last of the toilet roll to blow his nose and wipe the tears off his face. He was exhausted, and he just wanted to get to his room so he could crawl into his bed and sleep, preferably until this whole mess was over.

Gwaine stepped over Merlin and held out his hands to help pull Arthur up.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No," he whispered. "Want to lie down."

"One bed coming right up." Gwaine took Arthur's arm and led him down the hall.

Arthur pulled off his shirt when he reached his room and fell onto his bed in his trousers and shoes.

"Here's your water," Merlin said, setting the glass down on the nightstand.

Arthur grunted in thanks and closed his eyes, ready to hibernate.

Gwaine or Merlin, or maybe both of them, took off Arthur's shoes for him and then pulled the covers out from under him and draped them over him.

"I'll be in the lounge if you need anything," Gwaine said. He leaned down and actually kissed Arthur on the temple before turning out the light and leaving.

Arthur waited until he heard the door close to open his eyes. He reached for the water and took a few gulps before turning over, pulling a pillow over his face, and passing out.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Merlin asked as he followed Gwaine to the lounge.

"For now," Gwaine said. He plopped down on the sofa and started up their film again. "He'll probably have another panic attack when he wakes up, but with any luck he'll sleep for a few hours before that."

"You've seen him go through this before?" Merlin asked, sitting next to Gwaine.

"Yeah. His dad's a fucking piece of work, and Arthur's got all sorts of anxiety issues, but don't tell him that. He's in denial."

"About his dad or about his anxiety?"

"Both."

Merlin pulled his feet up onto the sofa and leaned his head on Gwaine's shoulder. "Well, that's shitty."

Gwaine wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulders, pulling him a little closer. "Yeah. Hopefully there's no real crisis and he's just over-reacting, but we'll see what happens."

"Is there anything we can do for him?"

Gwaine shrugged. "You don't have to do anything. I'll probably stick around for the rest of the night, but you're welcome to leave whenever. He'd probably prefer that, to be honest. He is very into people not seeing him when he's not at his best."

Merlin murmured in agreement and tried to focus on the film they had been watching, but it was hard to concentrate. Arthur had looked so lost, so wretched, so unlike how he had been presenting himself to Merlin so far. He really hadn't opened up to Merlin at all before, and now suddenly Merlin had seen him completely falling apart.

It felt like he'd seen something too intimate, too private, too Arthur, especially considering he was basically a stranger.

"I think I need to take Aithusa out," Merlin said, pulling away from Gwaine.

"Are you sure? I didn't mean that you needed to leave, just that you shouldn't feel obligated to stay. Arthur will be fine if you're here when he wakes up. You've already seen all that, so…"

Merlin pushed himself off the sofa and went over to the front door to pull on his shoes. "I'm sure. I need to get some work done, anyway." He flashed Gwaine a grin. "Since I spent all morning fucking."

Gwaine chuckled and got up to give Merlin's arse a goodbye pinch. "All right. Don't work too hard. Thanks for coming over."

"You are very welcome." Merlin poked Gwaine in the ribs and then let himself out.

When he got back to his own flat, he found Aithusa cowering under the dining room table, yipping at a spider on the wall.

"You are a very brave soul," Merlin deadpanned. He grabbed a paper towel from the kitchen, plucked the spider off the wall, and threw it in the bin.

Aithusa head-butted his ankle in thanks.

"I'm your knight in shining armour, aren't I?" Merlin asked as he hooked the lead on Aithusa's collar. "Come on, you silly damsel." He picked her up and carried to the lifts, not putting her down until they were outside.

He took her on a slow walk, letting her choose which way to go each time they hit a corner. As they wandered, he opened up the Grindr app on his phone and scrolled through profiles until he found Arthur's.

- I'm sorry this is probably the creepiest way to reach out, but I don't have your number and didn't want to overstay my welcome in your home. Just wanted to say that I hope you get some rest and are doing okay. Let me know if there is anything I can do. Aithusa is really really good at cuddling, so I can loan her out if you'd like!

He added a dog emoji and his phone number and then sent the message.

Merlin spent the rest of his afternoon in his office listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtracks and trying to make progress on two pieces for the game his former studio had contracted him to work on. He was mostly satisfied with the first piece, which featured a looming tree with a large tunnel-like hole in the bottom of the trunk that the main character could explore. The second piece, an enormous, jungle-filled cavern at the end of the tree's mysterious tunnel, was proving to be more challenging. He'd done a few initial sketches, but the scale wasn't working out, and he couldn't decide on which angle he wanted to show the cave from. He'd been given a lot of freedom on this particular setting, and he had too many ideas of what he wanted to be inside the impossible chamber. Tall trees, trees with high roots that lifted the trunks off the ground, trees with invasive vines, dead trees, flowering trees, baobab trees… he'd even played around with confusingly snow-covered trees. Then there was the possibility of adding some kind of water, be it random puddles, a small lake, a trickling creek, a winding river, or maybe just some frozen stalactites and stalagmites. And he had to devise some kind of light source, even though the cave was, well, a cave.

He'd been so stumped by the second piece that he was thinking of turning it into two separate pieces, one looking down on the cave floor and one looking up toward the cave ceiling. That would give him a way to explore the full magnitude of the space, and all the different flora and fauna.

If he could get this right—really right—then it could be a huge boost for his career. When he'd worked at the studio in Montréal, he had mostly worked on smaller games or on specific characters and settings, and everything had been based off someone else's concept art. Now he was influencing the look and feel of an entire game—a major game—and the studio would probably sell a book of his art. Of his art. A book.

Or, if his work didn't live up to those standards, the other game artists at the studio would redesign it until it was acceptable, and he would probably have to find another studio—or maybe even start his own studio—to get another chance like this. He'd only been given this opportunity because his former boss had been desperate to keep him involved in the studio, so Merlin had negotiated a higher level of involvement when he moved back to the UK and transitioned to freelance.

Merlin had worked his arse off for that studio—and his former boss, Gaius, was an older gay man who liked the 'diversity' Merlin brought to the team and seemed to think of Merlin as something of a grandson—and it was finally paying off. As long as he didn't fuck it up.

When Merlin finally emerged from his office, he found Gwen and Freya in the living room. Aithusa was in Freya's lap, and a plate of chocolate biscuits was on the coffee table.

"Celebrating or commiserating?" Merlin asked as he situated himself in one of the armchairs with a handful of biscuits.

"Just gossiping," Gwen answered. "I'm being nosy about Leon."

"Yeah?" Merlin looked toward Freya, who was blushing. "That good?"

Freya shrugged innocently. "He's very nice."

"Nice in bed," Gwen clarified.

"Speaking of nice in bed," Freya said, clearly desperate to change the subject, "Merlin's been refusing to talk about whatever it is he's getting up to with Gwaine."

"I have not," Merlin said around a mouthful of food. "You haven't asked."

"I did so. I believe my exact question was, 'How is that going?' And you did not answer."

Merlin chuckled. "Well, if you must know, it is going very sexily."

Freya rolled her eyes. "That much is extremely obvious. I mean the rest of it. Is he lovely?"

Merlin ate another biscuit before answering. "He is, although we're not, like… it's just sex. We haven't even kissed, which is weird and getting weirder by the day, but I guess that just goes to show how very much it really is just sex."

"How in the hell have you not kissed?" Gwen asked, looking indignant.

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know. He had his tongue in my bum this morning but—"

"Merlin!" Freya complained, covering Aithusa's ears. "Not in front of the children!"

"But I guess having his tongue in my mouth is a step too far," Merlin finished, ignoring her.

"Have you… talked about it?" Gwen asked.

"We talked about the fact that it's just sex. I'm honestly fine with whatever. It's a little strange, but the sex is really good, so…"

Gwen shook her head and took another biscuit. "Men are weird," she said before biting into it.

Merlin lifted a biscuit in agreement and then shoved the whole thing in his mouth. "Where's Lance?" he asked around the food. "I feel like I haven't seen them in ages. They didn't even come to our film night the other week."

Gwen gave him a pitying look. "They're out with Percy. I was supposed to be on a date as well, but she cancelled on me."

"Rude," Freya said.

Gwen shrugged. "We're seeing each other tomorrow night instead."

"How do you have time for all of that?" Freya asked, reaching for another biscuit. "I'm seeing one person and even that is sometimes too much."

"I'm telling him you said that," Merlin teased.

Freya rolled her eyes.

"If one person is enough for you, then one person is enough," Gwen said. "Not that Lance isn't enough for me. It's more fun this way, though."

"You know what else is fun?" Merlin asked.

Gwen and Freya both stared at him, waiting for him to answer his own question.

"Mario Kart."

Freya looked over at Gwen, who shrugged gamely and nodded, so Merlin started setting it up.

On Tuesday morning, Merlin went to the gym to start his day with a sweaty workout. He used one of the elliptical machines for a while, turning the resistance up as much as he could stand, and then went over to a weight bench to work on his arms and back. He didn't particularly enjoy this kind of exercise—he much preferred getting into motion, like running or biking or rowing—but he knew it helped offset the damage he was probably doing to himself by sitting at a computer all day every day.

Plus, it made him look better than he ever thought he would, and he wasn't about to give that up.

When his arms finally gave out, Merlin cooled down on a recumbent bike before going home to shower.

Arthur hadn't been at the gym. Not that Merlin had really expected him to be, especially after what he'd been through the day before. But Merlin had still hoped. He wanted to make sure that Arthur was okay, that Arthur didn't hate him for intruding on his panic attack, that Arthur wasn't irredeemably creeped out by Merlin's Grindr message.

The only thing Merlin could really do was wait and hope that by the next time he went over to see Gwaine, the whole thing would be nothing but a memory.

After he was clean and dry and properly fed, Merlin sat down in his office and tried to focus. He needed to get back to work on the tree and cavern concepts. He needed to have a good—preferably great—draft to share with the studio by the end of the week. He needed to focus and make something inspiring.

But he also just needed some time to be by himself and breathe. Ever since he'd gone over to Gwaine's penthouse the week before, everything Merlin did either seemed to be sex or art.

Not that that was a bad thing. Merlin really enjoyed both sex and art. But he hadn't watched any telly, or read a book, or even jerked off alone since he'd started hooking up with Gwaine. He needed space and he needed to reset and he needed to do something for himself.

He briefly considered settling out on the balcony with a book, or maybe a comic, and some good music. But then he thought better of it and went out with a blanket, his mobile, and some headphones.

Sex with Gwaine was incredible—like, the best he'd had in a while, probably since Elyan—but it was also always hard and fast. And usually that was good. That's what Merlin preferred with men he wasn't actually romantically involved with. But it had been a while since he'd taken the time to just be with himself, slow—or fast if he wanted, but only if he wanted—and easy and simple.

Merlin settled down on the lounge chair and covered himself with the blanket before propping his feet up on a padded ottoman. He slipped in the headphones and opened a private browser tab on his mobile, taking some time to scroll through potential porn he could watch. He could watch some of the usual videos of two men fucking or perhaps a straight couple fucking, if he was in that particular mood. Or he could watch videos of just one man jerking off, enjoying his body, exploring the depths of his pleasure for all to see.

That's really what it was that got Merlin hot. Watching someone who had put himself on full display for others to see his most intimate parts, his most private moments.

Or being someone who put himself on full display like that. Merlin was already wet, and he knew it was mostly because of the position he'd put himself in—out on the balcony where any of his neighbours could see him—rather than the thought of what he was about to watch.

Merlin started playing a video of a muscular-looking man splayed out on a plush sofa and running both hands over his hard cock with something close to reverence. It was a beautiful cock. And the man had beautiful hands.

Merlin watched for a while, just lying back on the lounge chair and enjoying looking between his mobile's screen and his view of the city and of the west tower.

He could see the penthouse balcony—or at least one of them, since Gwaine had mentioned that Arthur's bedroom had its own private west-facing balcony, and the one Merlin could see was facing east. It was too far away for him to be sure, but he didn't think there was anyone out on it. He didn't think there was anyone out on any of the other east-facing balconies on the west tower.

And he couldn't see anyone out on any of the other west-facing balconies on his side of the block of flats, either.

Merlin pushed the blanket off and slid a hand into his joggers.

The man in the video was very dedicated to his task, but after a few minutes Merlin moved onto another video, and then another, and then another, working himself up and then slowing back down, pulling on his dick and then pushing his fingers into his front to get to his G-spot and then pulling on his dick again. His pants were damp all down the front, and he was having a hard time fighting down his moans, and fuck, he wanted someone on their knees between his legs, sucking on his dick until he came for days.

"Oh," he muttered as his control slipped away and he felt his entire body starting to tense. "Oh, fuck." He planted his feet on the ottoman, pressed his head back against the chair, and bit down on his lower lip as his orgasm overtook him. He wanted to buck up into it, he wanted a hard cock pounding into his front, he wanted to scream from how good it felt to come after teasing himself for so long—and from indulging his exhibitionist streak.

When his dick finally stopped twitching and he came back to himself, Merlin pulled out his headphones and checked the time.

He'd been out on the balcony wanking for an hour.

"Oops," he said, laughing at himself. At least it had been time well spent. He'd really needed that, and he felt so much more relaxed now—so much more in tune with himself.

He went back inside to wash his hands and change into a fresh pair of pants, and then he planted himself in his office and forced himself to get to work.

Luckily, within a few hours, Merlin was actually love with what he'd been able to accomplish on the cave pieces. He had decided to give the cave an ancient, dilapidated look with dead trees and limp vines and lifeless, muddy puddles. Surrounding all of that, though, were crystals. Clear, sharp, many-faced crystals that glowed from within and gave the space an otherworldly look. From a distance, it would look like the cavern was filled with short stalactites and stalagmites, but, upon a closer look, it would be a mysterious, impenetrable labyrinth of glass-like crystals.

He spent some time tracing out translucent reflections in a few of the larger crystals. Most of the images were of the nearby trees, or sometimes other crystals, but for a few of them he drew vague, blurry faces. The more details he added, the creepier the cave became, and the happier he was with the outcome.

When Merlin's mobile buzzed with a text message, he was alarmed to see that he had been sitting at his computer for nearly six hours.

He stood and stretched out his back for a few seconds before checking his mobile. The message was from an unknown number.

Hey, this is Arthur. Thanks for reaching out. I'm sorry you had to see/deal with all that yesterday

Merlin read the message a few times and decided to get himself a beer from the fridge. He took it out on the balcony and sat on the lounge chair, covered with the blanket again, to respond.

It's totally fine! It wasn't a problem. I hope you're feeling better today

After he sent the text, he opened his beer and took a few long pulls as he waited for a response.

A little

Before Merlin could try to come up with a reply, Arthur sent another message.

I didn't go to work today but somehow I'm still exhausted

I'm sorry, that's not fun. I meant what I said though… if you want to borrow Aithusa, she's really enthusiastic about cheering people up

By the time Arthur responded to that, Merlin had finished his beer.

If you're not too busy, could I come over? Or I can take her for a walk if you are busy? I just need to get out of my room for a bit

Absolutely! I'm not too busy. I'm not sure where Freya is (maybe out for dinner with Leon?) so it's just me and Aithusa. You're welcome to come over whenever, just text me when you're here

Merlin pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, pulled his legs up into the chair, and watched the sun set as he waited.

He didn't know what he was doing. He and Arthur weren't friends—they barely even knew each other. Every time they had what Merlin felt was a normal conversation, the next time they talked there was nothing but awkwardness and tension. Especially when Gwaine was there, but Merlin didn't know why. Surely Arthur and Gwaine were mates. Otherwise, why would they live together?

On my way

When he got Arthur's message, Merlin brought the blanket back inside and dropped his empty beer bottle into the bin. He went in search of Aithusa, who he found hiding under Freya's bed gnawing on a bone, and was luring her out into the living room with a rope toy when his mobile buzzed again.

Here

Merlin dropped the rope and unlocked the door.

"Hey—"

Aithusa barrelled past him to nose enthusiastically at Arthur's shoes.

"Sorry." Merlin ducked down to pull Aithusa back into the flat.

"It's fine," Arthur said, stepping in after him. "That's what I came for, right?"

Merlin kicked the door shut before letting go of Aithusa, who immediately went back to Arthur's feet. Arthur sat down and Aithusa crawled into his lap and put her front paws on his chest so she could lap at his chin while he scratched her ears.

"You weren't kidding about the enthusiasm," Arthur said, trying to tilt his face so Aithusa wouldn't be able to lick into his mouth.

"No," Merlin agreed. "She loves attention, and I've been neglecting her all day."

"How could you neglect a face like this?" Arthur asked, slipping into a dopey, higher-pitched tone.

Merlin bit down a smile at Arthur's pet voice and watched him with Aithusa for a minute. He did look tired—he had bags under his eyes and he looked a little pale—but he was grinning and seemed genuinely happy to be on Merlin's floor with an excited dog.

"Do you want something to drink?" Merlin asked. "Beer? Water? I can make tea?"

"Beer would be great, actually," Arthur said, looking up for a moment before Aithusa knocked her big head into his jaw and he had to return his attention to her.

"Coming right up."

Merlin went into this kitchen and pulled out two beers. He poured himself a small glass of water as well and chugged it while looking through the cupboards for a snack. The only thing he could find was a large bag of potato crisps, so he dumped out its contents into a bowl and brought that to the living room along with the beers.

Arthur was on his stomach, holding onto one end of the rope toy and pulling it from side to side as Aithusa growled through her bite on the other end.

"Having fun?" Merlin teased, stepping over Aithusa and setting everything down on the coffee table.

"Not even a little bit," Arthur said before growling back at Aithusa. She yipped and, in the brief moment when her grip loosened, Arthur yanked the toy out of her mouth. He rolled onto his back and pulled her onto his chest. "Morgana always had a service dog growing up. Those little arseholes were my best friends when they weren't on duty."

"Is that your sister?" Merlin asked. He sat cross-legged on the sofa, facing the back so he could keep watching Arthur and Aithusa, and started in on his beer.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. She was born without a portion of her left arm."

Merlin put his elbow over the back of the sofa and rested his chin on it. "Is that how you got into your job?"

"Sort of." Arthur grabbed the tips of Aithusa's overlarge ears and wiggled them back and forth. "I thought I wanted to be a doctor for a while. Rather, my father wanted me to be a doctor. I guess this was the compromise."

"But you like your job?"

"I love it. Or, I thought I did. I thought it was really nice to be able to do what I liked and help people and work with my family, but…" Arthur trailed off and scratched near Aithusa's bum, causing her to snort.

"Have you talked to them?" Merlin asked cautiously.

Arthur frowned and took his time sitting up and starting a new game of tug-of-war before responding. "No. My dad's ignoring all my calls, and Morgana's mobile is just off, I think."

"And your job?"

Arthur shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know. I talked to my boss this morning and she seems happy to keep me on board. I just… it's going to be so awkward." He shook his head, looking defeated. "But there's nowhere else I'd be able to do what I'm doing now, at least not in this country, so… unless I decide to move to Germany, I think I just have to stay there. At least until…" He shrugged again. "I don't know, until something else comes along."

Merlin watched as Aithusa suddenly dropped the rope and went under the sofa to get another toy—a small rubber ball covered in chenille tufts—and present it to Arthur. Arthur tossed the ball toward the dining room table and Aithusa bounded off, her short legs scrambling on the hardwood floors.

"Germany's cool," Merlin said, taking the opportunity to pass Arthur the other beer. "I've been there a few times for work, and it always seemed like it would be a nice place to live."

"I'm sure it would be. I've never wanted to leave London, though."

"No," Merlin agreed. "Me neither."

"Didn't you say you lived in Canada?"

"Yeah." Merlin propped his chin up on the back of the sofa and watched as Aithusa brought the ball over and then head-butted Arthur's knee. "I didn't have much of a choice at the time, in terms of job offers. I tried to settle down there, but… honestly, I was just tremendously homesick the entire time. The only thing that kept me there so long was the guy I was dating."

"Gwen's brother, right?" Arthur tossed the ball over his shoulder and chuckled as Aithusa cocked her head in confusion for a moment before trotting around him.

"Yeah. We did live in the gayest possible neighbourhood in Montréal, though, so that was fun. I do kind of miss that aspect. And the food. And all the friends I made."

"Have you stayed in touch?" Arthur asked, rolling the ball in a wide arc that made it bounce down the hallway.

"Some. I haven't been gone that long, so…" Merlin took a long gulp of his beer. "There were these two cis guys who lived down the hall from me and Elyan. They were probably our best friends there, so I've stayed in touch with them. They had a really stupid cat that Aithusa loved, so they'd bring him over a lot. Especially when—well, Elyan and I had our top surgeries at the same time, which was really stupid because it very much limits your range of motion for a few weeks, so those guys basically took shifts living in our flat for a while to help us out. Aithusa was so whiny when they stopped bringing the cat over every day."

There was a long pause as Arthur tossed the ball for Aithusa again, and Merlin wondered if he'd said too much. Maybe Arthur wan't comfortable talking or hearing about things like top surgery.

"Your boyfriend was trans, too?" Arthur finally asked, his eyes trained on Aithusa.

"Yeah. Most of my Canadian friends were trans. Outside of work, that is. And outside of the guys on our hall. But, yeah. That's probably what I miss most. I haven't really found that here yet."

Arthur took a long gulp of beer and said nothing.

"Cis people are good, too, though," Merlin said to lighten the mood.

Arthur made a vague noise of agreement before looking up and meeting Merlin's gaze for the first time since he'd stepped inside the flat. "I never would have guessed you weren't cis."

Merlin managed not to roll his eyes, but the instinct must have shown on his face because Arthur quickly added, "I mean that as a compliment."

"Yeah. I know." Merlin drank half his beer in one go. "I lucked out, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

Merlin shrugged and watched as Arthur struggled to get Aithusa to drop the ball so that he could throw it again.

"'Passing' is just a whole… thing. I don't know. I could play professor and lecture at you all about it, but I really don't want to spend the emotional energy on that when you could just look it up online and spare me."

"Sorry," Arthur said quietly, giving up and letting Aithusa trot off with the ball.

"It's fine. I'm—this isn't my first beer of the evening, and I have a lot of opinions, and sometimes I talk too much when I'm nervous and have to remind myself not to."

Arthur looked back up again. "Why would you be nervous?"

Merlin flushed. "I… I don't know. I don't know. No good reason."

Arthur took another swig of beer and then licked his lips. Merlin found his gaze stuck there after that brief motion—Arthur's lips were so wide, and they looked a little chapped, but Merlin imagined they would still be soft against his own.

Merlin cleared his throat and turned around on the sofa to eat a handful of crisps.

Arthur was attractive—Merlin would have to be blind or very straight not to notice that—and Merlin had thought abstractly about his lips before, but that had been back when they hadn't known each other and had just been two anonymous strangers at the gym. Now Arthur was the flatmate of Merlin's friend with benefits—of Gwaine—and he was off limits.

Merlin had specifically made that choice when he'd invited Gwaine over that first night. And, sure, he'd been briefly distracted by Arthur's bare chest the morning he'd made waffles in Arthur's kitchen, but he'd been sleepy and starving and he hadn't indulged in those thoughts since.

Maybe he needed something more substantial than crisps if two beers was lowering his self-control this much.

"So, what games have you worked on?" Arthur asked as he sat down in one of the arm chairs and reached for the crisps.

"Mostly indie games," Merlin said, grateful for the change of topic. "Have you played anything made by Avalon Studios?"

Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah. Holy shit, yeah. Labyrinth of Gedref was beautiful, did you work on that?"

Merlin ate a crisp to mask his smile. "Yeah, I did the seascape."

"Like… the whole seascape?"

"Yeah."

Arthur shook his head, looking impressed. "What else have you done?"

"Just a lot of random characters or environments here and there. I did the Fisher King and his throne for Eye of the Phoenix—I liked that one a lot. I got to do most of the work on the dragons in Aithusa, which is obviously what I named this one after," Merlin said, gesturing at where Aithusa was gnawing on the rope toy. "Those are the biggest things I've worked on, so far."

"I haven't played Aithusa," Arthur said, getting another handful of crisps. "I think Gwaine has. Does he know you worked on it?"

"I doubt it," Merlin admitted. "We don't… talk a whole lot about that kind of stuff."

"About video games?"

"About, like, our jobs. Personal things."

"Oh," Arthur said blankly. He took a pause to eat most of his crisps. "Are you not…"

Merlin shrugged. "It's nothing serious. Just for fun."

Arthur nodded and finished off his beer. "Well. What are you working on now?"

"I can show you, if you'd like," Merlin offered, mostly expecting Arthur to make an excuse to go home now that the mention of Gwaine had brought that strange tension back into their conversation.

"Yeah?" Arthur asked, his eyes wide.

Merlin held back a laugh at the childish expression on Arthur's face. "Yeah. Another beer?"

"Sure," Arthur agreed, and followed Merlin into the kitchen.

"I need real food," Merlin said as he opened the beer and passed it to Arthur, "but apparently Freya and I both forgot to do the shopping. Can I interest you in some takeaway?"

"Oh. Um… yeah. Food would be good."

"How do you feel about Thai?"

"I feel great about it," Arthur said, grinning.

Merlin knocked his third beer against Arthur's second. "All right. Let's figure out what to order."

He led the way to his office and sat down at his desk to pull up a delivery website.

"Wow," Arthur said, and Merlin looked around to see him standing in front of Merlin's bookshelves, which were filled with art books and liberally decorated with figurines of video game and film characters.

"Oh. Yeah, that's…"

"Amazing," Arthur finished for him. He pulled out a book of the art from Hayao Miyazaki's Princess Mononoke and started flipping through it eagerly.

Merlin grinned and turned back to his computer so he could try to concentrate on what to get for dinner. Once he'd picked out what he wanted, he stood from the chair so Arthur could take his place and add to the order.

Aithusa came in as Arthur was scrolling through the options, and Merlin knelt down to pet her. When he looked back up, Arthur was typing in his own credit card information.

"I can get it," Merlin said quickly, standing and hurrying over. "It was my idea."

"Nope," Arthur said, still filling out his information. "My treat. It's the least I can do considering what you've done."

Merlin laughed incredulously. "Arthur, all I did was bring you a glass of water and let you play with my very needy dog. Let me at least pay you back."

Arthur submitted the order and put his card back into his wallet. "It's done."

Merlin shook his head. "So pushy."

Arthur smirked and spun in the chair a little. "This is very comfortable."

"I live in it all day, every day," Merlin said. "It was worth it to buy something nice."

Arthur hummed in agreement and sat up a little straighter to look out the windows. "That your balcony?"

"Yeah," Merlin said, trying not to think about what he's been doing out there just a few hours earlier. "Aithusa's not allowed on it, much to her eternal sadness. You wanted to see what I'm working on?"

"I'd love to, if you want to show me. If you're allowed."

"It's very top secret," Merlin teased, leaning over Arthur to reopen his cave pieces.

"Fuck," Arthur breathed, leaning closer to the computer screen. "That's incredible. What is this for?"

"New game," Merlin said, taking a step back to admire the look on Arthur's face. "Doesn't have a name yet, but this cave is sort of, like, inside of a tree somehow. I think this is going to be the end of the game, so… sorry about the spoiler."

Arthur shook his head, still taking in all of the details. "It's…" He looked up at Merlin. "It's really good."

"It'd better be," Merlin teased. "Technically it's my job to be good."

"Right," Arthur laughed. "Well, you did it." He leaned back in the chair and looked back at the computer. "So, how does it work? Concept art, I mean?"

Merlin sat on the edge of his desk and watched Aithusa dragging her toys into her dog bed. "For these pieces, I'm working with Avalon Studios. I had a meeting with the creative director for this game and the art director, and they gave me the broad strokes of what their plan and the sorts of things they were looking for. It's a lot of environment work, but I'm designing the characters as well. We've gone back and forth on some sketches and these are probably close to the final products for this particular environment. And that's basically what I've been doing since I moved back."

"Just this cave?" Arthur asked.

"No," Merlin chuckled. "Christ, that'd be awful. Before this, I did all the other environments for the rest of the game. Now I owe Avalon these pieces at the end of this week, and they'll spend next week picking over them, and then the week after that I'm flying out to try to get the environments mostly finalised. Then the rest of the art team will take it over and start turning it into an actual game, and I'll get back to work on the character designs."

"Have you been back since you moved?"

"Nope. It'll mostly be work—I'm going for ten days, but I honestly expect to be, like, living in the studio to get as much out of the in-person time as possible. But hopefully I'll be able to see most of my friends while I'm there as well."

"Elyan?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe. We've emailed about it, but it just depends on whether he can get off work and… whether he wants to, I guess. Toronto is like six hours from Montréal, and we're not together anymore, so. If I was bringing Aithusa, he'd probably do it, but I don't know if I'm enough of a reason on my own."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said quietly.

"I'm joking." Merlin flashed a smile to prove it. "The real truth is that it would probably just be really hard to see each other for a weekend. Like, I don't know what we'd do. It would be hard not to fall back into our old ways, you know?"

Arthur nodded and spun the chair around to look at Aithusa. "So you're abandoning her for the Canadian countryside?"

"Montréal is definitely not the countryside, but, yes. She'll be stuck here with Freya. Honestly, you're welcome to keep visiting while I'm gone. I'm sure Freya would love the break. Aithusa gets a little over-affectionate when she isn't tended to on the schedule she prefers."

Arthur laughed and pushed himself out of the chair so he could inspect Merlin's bookshelves some more. "This stuff is incredible," he said after a minute. He pulled out a random book and stared in confusion at the cover. "What language is this?" he asked, holding up the book for Merlin to see.

"Russian," Merlin explained. "It's an old Soviet animated film that got turned into a kids book, basically." He took the book from Arthur and opened it to an illustration of a white horse's head peeking out from a bush and looking down at a hedgehog floating on a river. "I got really obsessed with Soviet animation at uni. Have you ever seen anything done with paint-on-glass animation?"

"I'm not sure I know what that is."

"It's just a really beautiful style." Merlin slotted the book back onto the shelf to stop himself from carrying on too much about something he'd studied so long ago. "Although I guess it was mostly post-Soviet stuff. Anyway, there's, um… yeah. Too many books."

"You have more than one Robert Mapplethorpe book?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Merlin admitted, laughing. "I only bought the first one, though. The second was a gift."

"Who the fuck gifts a Mapplethorpe book?"

"Would you believe it was from my mother?"

"I would very much prefer not to."

Merlin chuckled. "Good, because that would a lie."

Arthur shook his head, grinning, and Merlin only realised how close they were standing when he forced himself to look away from Arthur's pretty smile. He stepped back over to his desk and look a long swig of beer.

"It was from my childhood best friend, Will. We dated briefly before I… realised it would never work because he was a straight man and I was probably a mostly gay man. He gave that to me to show that there were no hard feelings."

"That explanation makes zero sense," Arthur pointed out.

"You are correct. Will is an odd duck, but that's why we were best friends. Want to find something to watch?" he asked. "Or something to play until the food gets here, maybe?"

Arthur nodded and followed Merlin back out to the living room. They settled on the sofa and Merlin handed over the remote to Arthur, who turned on the telly and started flipping through channels.

In the end, they resorted to watching standup comedy specials on Netflix, and, by the time they finished eating, they were several more beers in and in pain from laughing so hard.

"Oh, fuck," Merlin said, reaching for the remote and lowering the volume. "I'm going to be sick if we keep watching this." It was an exaggeration, but only a mild one because his stomach really did hurt, mostly from laughter but probably also from all the alcohol.

Arthur pulled the remote out of his hand and clicked back to the Netflix main menu. "Don't be sick, that would be a waste of my money."

"I told you not to pay for it," Merlin complained. He propped his legs up on the coffee table and rubbed his hands over his stomach. "Fuck, what time is it, even?"

"I don't want to know," Arthur said. "Where's Freya?"

"Probably at yours," Merlin guessed. "We played swapsies. Just with the wrong people."

"Wrong how?"

"You should be Gwaine."

Arthur went quiet and Merlin took back the remote to start up an old episode of Doctor Who.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" he asked after he found that he couldn't concentrate on the show.

Arthur groaned and sunk down lower on the sofa. "I don't know. Fuck. I should. I don't want to, though."

"You're welcome to come play with Aithusa all day, instead."

Arthur turned his head, the side of his face pressed into the sofa cushions, and said, "I would rather be here than anywhere else."

Merlin registered that as a strange, somewhat extreme thing to say, but couldn't come up with a response, so he just turned his head as well, and they stared at each other for a long moment.

Merlin had almost forgotten how blue Arthur's eyes were. And how nice the planes of his face were. And how cute his crooked teeth were.

"Can I see your tattoo?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"How do you know I have tattoos?"

"You showed Gwaine," Arthur reminded him. "When we were watching whatever that was. That's when I knew you were trans."

Merlin snorted. "You knew I was trans because I showed Gwaine one of my tattoos?"

"No," Arthur whined. "Because of your dragon shirt."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot I was wearing that. Fuck, I love that shirt."

"Well," Arthur prodded. "Can I see?"

"Oh. Yeah." Merlin sat up a little and tried to pull off his sweater but his t-shirt got tangled up with it and he ended up topless.

Predictably, Arthur's eyes bypassed his tattoo and fell on his scars. Merlin stilled, his heart thumping for some reason. Normally, he tried not to care what anyone else thought. He liked the way he looked and he was happy to write off everyone who didn't, but it still felt stiflingly intimate to bare himself this way, especially for a private audience.

"Wow," Arthur breathed, and Merlin glanced up to see that Arthur had shifted his gaze to Merlin's tattoo.

It was a falcon, like his namesake, but instead of an outline or any detailed line work, the bird was just made up of splashes of colour that roughly formed a silhouette. Behind the falcon, done in minimal black ink, was an hourglass with the sun in the top bulb and the moon in the lower bulb.

"You drew this?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah. It's a merlin. Immortal."

Arthur lifted a hand and traced his fingertips along the bird's wings, and Merlin had to bite down a gasp at the touch.

"Why do you call yourself Merlin?"

"My mother named me after a bird."

"I think my name means 'bear,'" Arthur said, dropping his hand. "Do bears eat birds?"

Merlin snorted. "Probably. Do you want to eat me?"

"Not like that."

Merlin laughed, folding sideways with exhaustion and landing with his forehead pressed against Arthur's thigh. Arthur patted the back of his head. It was conciliatory at first, but then Arthur's fingers slipped into his hair and started massaging his scalp.

Merlin closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He needed to sit up and—and do something, although he couldn't think of what it was he needed to do. He just needed to do something other than continue to sit here, flopped onto Arthur. Because Arthur's hand on his head felt nice, felt really nice, but Merlin was fucking Arthur's flatmate, and Arthur was going through a professional and personal crisis, and shit, what was Merlin even doing?

Taking a deep breath, Merlin pushed himself up into a sitting position, and then he stood and turned off the telly.

"I… need sleep, I think," he said lamely.

"Yeah," Arthur agreed but didn't move from his spot on the sofa. He was staring down at where his hand had fallen onto the cushions, and he looked lost.

"If you—if it would… I assume—Freya doesn't seem like she'll be back, so…" Merlin scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to get his brain to wake up. "You can crash on her bed if you want. Or the sofa. Or whatever."

Arthur shook his head and stood, looking a little more aware of his surroundings. "No, I'll go home. Thank you, though. For Aithusa. And dinner."

"You paid for dinner," Merlin said stupidly.

"Right. Well, I… goodnight."

Arthur gave a half-hearted wave and let himself out, and by the time Merlin realised that Arthur had left his shoes behind, the hallway was already empty.

Arthur's head was already pounding as he made his way back to the west tower. He needed water and he needed sleep and he needed another day off work, probably.

Except that he couldn't fathom another day stuck in the penthouse with nothing to do but mope and make futile attempts to contact his family. If he went into work, he'd at least have a valid distraction. The thought of facing his team—of facing his boss, of facing anyone from the finance or marketing divisions—still made him want to jump out a window, though.

When Arthur let himself into his flat, he found Leon in the lounge watching a film.

Leon nodded in greeting, and Arthur flopped down on the sofa and pulled a cushion over his face.

"Whoa," Leon chuckled. "Rough night? Where have you been?"

"Merlin's," Arthur groaned. "I was playing with the damn dog. Sort of. Then one thing led to another and I told him I wanted to eat him."

When Leon didn't respond, Arthur pushed the cushion off and saw Freya standing in the entrance with two glasses of wine.

"Oh," he said and then congratulated himself on his amazing wit.

"You told him you wanted to eat him?" Leon asked.

Arthur shrugged and watched helplessly as Freya sat next to Leon and handed him one of the wine glasses.

"And how exactly did it escalate to that?"

Arthur pulled the cushion back over his face. "I don't know, what was I supposed to say? He was half naked and the only thing going on in my head was a bunch of fucking."

"A bunch of fucking what?" Freya asked.

"No," Arthur moaned. "A bunch of fucking." He lifted one hand and made a lazy wanking motion. "As in a lot of sex."

Leon chuckled. "Wait, why was he half naked?"

"We're still talking about Merlin, right?" Freya asked.

"You mean you wanted to eat his arse?" Leon asked before cracking up.

Arthur grunted and rolled off the couch, tossing the cushion at Leon's head and only barely missing the glass of wine.

"Fuck off."

"Should I be worried you're trying to cannibalise my flatmate?" Freya teased. "Because I need him for half the rent."

"I hate both of you," Arthur said without much heat. He made the wanking motion again, but that just made Leon laugh harder, so he retreated to his room and started getting ready for bed.

And when he went to kick off his shoes, he found that he wasn't wearing them.

Had he taken them off in the lounge? Or by the front door? Or in the foyer for some reason?

No, he realised as he crashed onto his bed, naked. He'd taken them off near Merlin's sofa and Aithusa had dragged them under the dining room table.

The thought of going back to Merlin's flat for any reason made him want to jump out of two consecutive windows, so he decided he would go to work in the morning.

When he woke up, Arthur stayed in his bed well past when he would have needed to get up in order to arrive to work on time. Instead, he just stared up at the ceiling, replaying everything that had happened so far that week in his head.

He'd been witness to what was apparently the first conversation Merlin and Gwaine had had about their personal or professional lives.

His sister had publicly accused their father of embezzling. His father had resigned. His sister had resigned. He'd had a panic attack. In front of Merlin.

And then he'd gone over to Merlin's and made friends with Aithusa. And got to see Merlin's art, which was fucking fantastic. And Merlin's tattoo.

And he'd played with Merlin's hair. And said he'd wanted to eat Merlin.

What the fuck was he doing? He needed to be at work. He needed to be with people who weren't making him feel like he was losing it. He needed to be doing something productive.

When he couldn't stand it anymore, Arthur rolled out of his bed and took a shower. He washed his hair and then stood under the stream for a long while, concocting a plan.

After he had gotten dressed and made a quick plate of scrambled eggs, Arthur went to the Boris bike docking station around the corner from his block of flats and headed to Morgana's.

They had exchanged keys years ago on one dark night when they pinky swore that if either of them died, the other would keep their father from going through their belongings.

Arthur had never used his copy of Morgana's key before, and he considered knocking first, but in the end he just let himself into her flat.

"What the fuck?" Morgana demanded from where she was sat at her kitchen island across from the front door.

Arthur closed the door behind himself and held up the key as if that explained why he was there.

"I haven't died. And I have company."

"Nice try." Arthur stepped into the kitchen and saw Gwen pulling two beers out of the fridge. He stopped in his tracks, his mind reeling.

Morgana just rolled her eyes. "Arthur, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is my idiot brother, Arthur."

"We've met, actually" Gwen said, letting the fridge door swing shut and giving Arthur a smile.

"Of course you have," Morgana muttered. She rubbed her temples and gave Arthur a long look. "What are you doing here?"

"You've been ignoring my calls."

"I changed my number."

Arthur scoffed. "And were you going to tell me your new number, or…"

"When I was ready."

"I'm not the one who betrayed our family, Morgana," Arthur said, struggling not to shout. "You can't possibly be angry with me."

"Don't tell me how to feel, Arthur."

"I can go," Gwen offered quietly. She set the beers down on the island and leaned in close to whisper something to Morgana. Morgana murmured something in response and they kissed. On her way out, Gwen gave Arthur's arm a squeeze.

"Are you going to sit down?" Morgana asked, reaching for one of the beers.

"What the fuck was that?" Arthur asked, gesturing at where Gwen had just been.

"What?"

"You know exactly fucking what."

Morgana sighed heavily, but Arthur could tell she was enjoying herself.

"Since when do you date women?" he asked when the silence stretched on for long enough that he knew she wasn't going to start the conversation herself.

"Since I was 17."

"Jesus Christ, Morgana. And you never fucking thought to mention?"

"Of course I did. I just decided not to. It's none of your business."

Arthur scrubbed his hands over his face. He didn't want to have to deal with this on top of everything else.

"I'm not asking for a fucking list of your bedmates, I'm just—I fucking came out to you when I was… fuck." Arthur shook his head and turned around to go. He couldn't continue with this conversation. Maybe Morgana had been right to change her number and not tell him. Maybe they needed more time before they could be rational with each other.

"Arthur," Morgana said as he opened the door. "I'm sorry."

Arthur leaned his head against the door, trying to clear his head. He reminded himself that this was Morgana, his sister, and that he loved her. She was completely impossible and knew exactly all the right things to say to make him absolutely furious, but she had always been his biggest ally in life. And he had been the same to her. They had always tried to protect each other, to support each other, to navigate being the children of Uther Pendragon with each other. Morgana was hard as a rock on the outside, like their father, but, Arthur knew, she was much more delicate on the inside. If she had kept this part of herself a secret for so long, there must have been a reason.

Arthur closed the door and settled himself at the kitchen island across from Morgana.

"I'm sorry," she said again, her voice soft. "It wasn't something I felt I could share."

"You could have. I did. You supported me through all the bullshit—what makes you think I wouldn't have done the same for you?"

"Nothing. I know you would have."

"Then why—"

"Because Uther is sexist and he wouldn't have understood."

"I don't know why you've suddenly decided that Dad is the world's worst human, but—"

"I don't think that," Morgana said quietly but firmly. "He raised me. He always did right by me. But he also lied to me about my mother, lied about my birth, told me to my face that women don't have the same feelings or needs as men, and stole incredible amounts of money from a company that does a lot of good for a lot of people, including me. I'm sick of trying to let the good outweigh the bad. He deserves everything that's coming for him."

Arthur grabbed the second beer that Gwen had left and took a long swig. "What do you mean he told you that women don't—whatever it was you said?"

Morgana frowned down at the island between them. "Do you remember when I was involved with Alvarr?"

"Vaguely," Arthur said slowly. "From uni?"

"Yes. He was… he was a dubious character, but my feelings for him were real. Uther refused to accept that and told me that I was being manipulated. That all women are manipulated by men because men have stronger desires and women just want to please. Women are meant to please, and it was my job to make sure I found the most worthy man to bestow myself upon."

"That doesn't sound like something he would say," Arthur lied.

"He did," Morgana said angrily. "You can pretend you don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth. I was 19, Arthur. Or 18, apparently. The point is that I was young and unsure and trying to navigate my first love, and that was what he told me. Do you have any idea the kind of damage that could have had on me if I hadn't already realised he was full of shit most of the time?"

Arthur took another drink. "You know Gwen has a boyfriend, right? That's what Gwaine said. Gwaine's met him. Leon, too."

"Yes," Morgana said, sounding bored. "I've met them, too. Modern life is a rich tapestry, Arthur. We're all adults."

"Are you gay?"

"No."

Arthur nodded and traced the label on his beer bottle with a fingertip. "I thought you said you couldn't trust going to the Board."

"You haven't heard?"

Arthur glanced up to see Morgana's eyebrows raised. "Heard what?"

"Nimueh's been removed. Catrina as well. They were in on it."

Arthur sighed. "Anyone else?"

"Odin. Potentially Rodor, but I think he's being framed since he backed me up."

Rodor was Morgana's boss. Odin was Camelot's Technical Director—he was Annis's boss and leader of Arthur's entire division.

Arthur stood up to keep himself from slumping over the island in a fit of despair. "Is that why you left?"

"Because Rodor was being set up? No. I didn't find out about that until after."

"No, because of how disgustingly widespread this corruption was."

"Yes. I didn't feel good about staying."

Arthur finished off his beer.

"I don't mean that you have to leave as well," Morgana added. "My job was a lot less niche and I can do what I was doing at Camelot anywhere else. It was an easy decision. You don't have to make the same one."

"I don't feel fucking good about staying either." Arthur chucked the empty beer bottle into the bin and relished the loud crashing sound it made.

"Arthur—"

"Have you talked to him?" he asked, turning back to her. "Since Monday. Have you talked to him?"

"Yes," she answered quietly. "I told him if I was called to testify at a trial that I wouldn't hold back, and also that I won't be speaking to him ever again, at least not after he's in prison."

"Christ. Are you listening to yourself?"

"Yes. I'm done with him. At least now he knows that and can finally feel the consequences of his shit actions." Morgana reached for her beer but then seemed to think better of it. "He didn't have too many kind words to say to me, but that's the least surprising part of all this. What has he said to you?"

"He isn't answering my calls," Arthur admitted. "Has he changed his number as well?"

"Not that I know of. He's probably too ashamed of himself to talk to you. He knows you're better than him."

"I'm not—" Arthur sighed and sat back down. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how I can go back into that office. I don't know how I can face Dad. I don't… I just don't know."

Morgana reached across the island to put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I hope you believe that. I didn't want to find out what I did. I didn't want it to be true. And I didn't want you to get hurt by it. But I don't regret what I did."

"I know. You shouldn't. You did the right thing." Arthur covered her hand with his own. "I'm still mad at you, though."

"I can take it."

Arthur smirked. "Yeah. I know you can." He pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair instead. "Are you really dating Gwen?"

"Yes. How do you know her, by the way? And what does Gwaine have to do with it?"

"There's not a simple explanation."

"I'm not going anywhere," Morgana teased.

"Well… are you going to finish your beer?"

Morgana slid it across the island to him, and he took a sip before starting to tell her about the film night Gwaine had initiated with his sticky notes.

At 5:15, after the rush of people flooding out of the front doors to go home, Arthur went into Camelot and headed straight for Annis's office.

He found her standing by her desk, one hand on her bag and one hand typing something out on her mobile.

Arthur knocked on the door frame and Annis looked up.

"Were you here today and I missed it somehow?" she asked, frowning.

"No, I just got here. Are you leaving?"

"I was, but I have time. Come sit."

Arthur stepped in and closed the door before settling down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. She sat down as well and gave him a tired smile.

"How are you?" she asked when Arthur didn't say anything to start the conversation.

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know," he said.

Annis nodded. "Yeah. It's been a rough week for everyone, but… I'm sorry that this is affecting you as much as it is. I can't imagine."

Arthur looked around Annis's office, taking in her bookshelf and the newspaper clippings on the walls and the prosthetic models on display.

"Did you know?"

Annis sighed. "Did I know that there was a group of people systematically taking money from this company? No, Arthur. Of course I didn't. Did you?"

Arthur shook his head. "No."

"Have you been reading about everything in the news?"

"No. I'm not sure I want to know the details. Morgana told me Nimueh and Catrina are off the Board, Odin was involved, and Rodor's come under suspicion. Anyone else?"

"Not yet. And I don't think anyone believes Rodor was involved. Odin's just holding a grudge."

"Yeah." Arthur licked his lips and forced himself to look away from the room's decor and back at his boss. "Are we pricing our products too high?"

Annis blinked. "I don't understand."

"People have been stealing large amounts of money from Camelot for years—decades, even—and I've never once heard that we were in financial trouble. Obviously we have our NHS services, but… are we charging our private patients too much? Is that how we've been able to sustain a loss this big without notice?"

"We're not a not-for-profit, Arthur," Annis said after a long pause. "And you know as well as I do the kinds of money our research—your research—brings in."

Arthur nodded. "I do. And it's not enough."

"Look, I'm not intimately familiar with Camelot's finances. If you have questions about the money coming in, then you should ask—"

"Ask who?" Arthur asked sharply.

"Bayard, I suppose. The department hasn't been reorganised yet. But I think you're focusing on the wrong thing. We make life-changing devices here. They're expensive, but our clients have options. The NHS, credit, other companies, saving up for a few years, fundraising, whatever. That's not our concern. Our concern is making the best possible prosthetics. And you are extremely talented, Arthur. I've never met anyone as dedicated to the human wrist."

Annis offered a smile, but when Arthur didn't return it, she continued. "I can't make you stay, but I want you to know that I want you to stay. It might not be easy, and it will probably be awkward, but just because we charge people for our services doesn't mean they aren't worthwhile services. You're working to make a difference in these people's lives, and that's what you need to focus on. There's still a lot you can accomplish here."

Arthur nodded and looked down at the floor for a moment.

He knew she was right, but it still didn't sit well with him, and he caught himself already trying to think of other excuses to walk away.

"How about you take the rest of the week off?" Annis suggested. "Come back next Monday and start fresh."

Arthur didn't have any better ideas, so he nodded and looked back up. "Okay."

"Okay."

Annis's eyes flickered toward her desk phone, probably to check the time.

"Okay," Arthur said again. He stood and Annis followed. "I'll see you on Monday, then. Thank you."

"Of course. Any time. Take care of yourself."

Arthur nodded and let himself out of her office. He tried to call his father on his mobile as he walked back through the building, but Uther didn't answer.

Merlin spent most of his Thursday cleaning up the cave piece and adding some additional details to the accompanying tree piece. He worked until his eyes were crossing, and then he worked some more, needing everything to be as good as possible. He wanted his art to be perfect and polished and professional, even though he knew it would get edited and changed as soon as he handed it over to Avalon.

He just wanted it to be good. He wanted to make a good impression. He wanted to make a good name for himself in the industry. He wanted to do good work and be involved with good games and live a good life.

When he started losing all control over his posture, even in his expensive ergonomic chair, he saved his work and went to the gym to loosen up and mitigate the fact that he'd been stationary all day.

He got there in time for a pilates class, so he joined, relishing the opportunity to stop thinking about art and just focus on his body.

It didn't take long for his mind to wander to other things, though. Things like Freya, who was clearly enjoying herself with Leon. It was nice to see, especially because she so rarely opened herself up to the possibility of seeing someone for much longer than a one-night stand. Out of everyone who lived in the penthouse, Merlin had got to know Leon the least, but he seemed nice, and he was making Freya happy, so Merlin wasn't going to go looking for flaws.

And then there was Gwaine, who was funny and kind and not really like anyone else Merlin had ever slept with. He was insatiable and confident and very comfortable with what he wanted. He was generous and interested in spending time with Merlin and extremely cuddly.

And yet, they still hadn't kissed, and they had defined this thing between them as purely sexual. It was hard to reconcile that with the casual and intimate way they fucked and spent time together.

In the end, it was probably for the best that they had such drawn such a strict line in the sand. Merlin didn't want to date Gwaine—he wasn't sure wanted to date anyone at all—and hopefully the boundaries would make the inevitable end of their affair easy and simple.

Merlin hoped they would be able to stay friends whenever they stopped sleeping together. He liked spending time with Gwaine. He liked having an excuse to visit the penthouse.

He liked having an excuse to see Arthur.

Although, with Arthur's recent visit to play with Aithusa, maybe they wouldn't need to rely on Gwaine being the middleman, anymore. Maybe they could strike up a real friendship. And then maybe—

Merlin coughed to cut off that train of thought. He couldn't let himself go down that road with Arthur—not while Arthur was going through such turmoil, not while he was fucking Arthur's flatmate, and not while he needed to keep himself focused on work.

When the pilates class ended, Merlin took a slow run on a treadmill, keeping his mind occupied by composing a packing list for his upcoming trip back to Canada.

He couldn't wait to see his old friends. He loved his London friends—they were practically family—but his Canadian friends had really been something special. He'd never met so many people who were like him and who accepted him and who made him feel just normal.

He knew that was all probably largely due to the fact that he'd come into his own during his time in Montréal. Within the first few months of living there, his voice had finally stopped cracking, his beard had finally started coming in properly, and his hips had finally—finally—slimmed down enough for him to actually fit into a pair of mens jeans without spiralling into a pit of dysphoria.

He'd started feeling more confident in himself, more like his true self, and that had definitely enabled him to make the kinds of friends who helped to boost those feelings even more. They'd taught him so much about himself and the broader trans community, and they'd never been afraid to call him out when he said something stupid because he'd been uninformed.

Merlin missed having that kind of group, although he hadn't put too much effort into finding anything similar since he'd returned to London. He'd focused on his old friendships instead, and luckily that had been surprisingly rewarding. Gwen had always been fiercely supportive, but now even Freya didn't bat an eye when he lounged around their flat with his shirt off and his scars on full display. He couldn't have asked for a more welcoming—or more casual—reception when he'd moved back from Canada.

He still wanted something more than his old gaggle of cis friends, though. He just needed to find the time and motivation to jump into London's trans community. It was hard to do that with all his other distractions, like art and Aithusa and Gwaine. Maybe after he visited his Canadian friends and got a full reminder of how wonderful they were, he'd have the drive to seek out something similar in his new home.

After 45 minutes on the treadmill, Merlin started turning down the speed until he could slow down to a brisk walking pace. He spent some time catching his breath and focusing on his posture, and then he turned off the machine and went to find a corner to stretch in.

As he glanced around the gym in search of an empty space, Merlin spotted Arthur doing pull ups on one of the machines against the nearest wall. He had his knees bent under him at right angles, he had sweat through most of his bright red shirt, and he was looking right at Merlin.

Merlin gave a quick wave and Arthur nodded in response before easing himself onto the floor.

Deciding to take that as an invitation, Merlin walked over.

"Hey," he said lamely. "How's it going?"

Arthur made an ambiguous noise and wiped off his face with a small towel.

"How are you?" Arthur asked.

"Good. About to finish up. Did you just get here?"

"No, I came in when—" Arthur paused and scrubbed the towel through his sweaty hair. "I saw you doing yoga when I came in."

"Pilates," Merlin corrected.

Arthur nodded and wiped off his face again. "I've never taken any of the classes here. Are they good?"

"Yeah. The cycling instructor is really funny." Merlin tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Well, I'm going to find somewhere to stretch, so…"

"Yeah." Arthur glanced up at the machine he had just been using. "Yeah. Me, too, I think. I'm not really feeling it today."

Arthur led the way to a piece of empty wall and then pressed his hands to it and stretched his calves out behind himself.

Merlin sat down and started stretching out his arms.

"How's the work situation?" he asked when the silence started making him feel too tense to stretch properly.

"The same. I'm taking off the rest of the week, and… I guess we'll see how it goes on Monday."

"That sounds good." Merlin pressed the soles of his feet together and leaned down. "Have you talked to your family?" he asked, speaking into the floor.

Arthur let out a long sigh as he did some new stretch above Merlin. As Merlin sat up, Arthur lay down next to him and pulled one knee to his chest.

"I saw my sister."

"Yeah? How was it?"

Arthur shrugged as he switched knees. "She… she's dating Gwen, apparently."

"Oh, wow. Small world."

"Yeah," Arthur said bitterly. "Mind you, I had no idea she dated women at all."

"Oh, that's…" Merlin shook his head. "Your family's really going through it."

To Merlin's relief, Arthur laughed. "Yeah, we sure are." He sat up and twisted a little, cracking his back. "Did I leave my shoes at your place the other night?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I kept forgetting to text you about them."

Arthur shrugged. "Same. I can come get them now, if you don't mind? Before I forget again."

"Sure, yeah," Merlin agreed quickly. "That's no problem. We can leave whenever you're ready."

"I have to get my stuff out of the locker room. And shower, probably." Arthur shifted up on his knees and then pushed himself in a standing position, wincing a little.

"I'm going to keep stretching," Merlin said, straightening out his left leg and reaching for his toes. "Flag me down when you're done."

Arthur nodded and headed toward the locker rooms. Merlin finished stretching out his legs and then sat with his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to walk himself through a meditation.

He was nearly asleep by the time Arthur came back and kicked his foot to get his attention.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered, shaking his hands to wake himself up. He stood and stretched his arms over his head.

"Do you need to change or shower or anything?" Arthur asked, adjusting the strap of his gym back on his shoulder.

"No, I avoid the locker rooms like the plague." Merlin started toward the exit and Arthur followed.

"Why? They're not that dirty." Merlin glanced over his shoulder to give Arthur a pointed look. Arthur flushed. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

Merlin gave a smile so Arthur would know he wasn't mad and opened the door. They walked home mostly in silence, Arthur occasionally humming to himself. When they reached their block of flats, Merlin led the way up to his flat and showed Arthur where his shoes had been added to the pile of Merlin and Freya's shoes near the door.

"Thanks," Arthur said, shoving the extra pair of shoes into his gym bag. He stood up and looked back at the front door for a long moment before asking, "Do you want to play a game or anything?"

Merlin took in the bags under Arthur's eyes and the droop of his shoulders. "Yeah, we can do that. I need to rinse off, but you can get started if you want."

Arthur took a step toward the sofa and Aithusa poked her head up from where she was lying on it.

"And I need to take her out," Merlin added, checking the time on his mobile.

"I can," Arthur offered. "If you want? While you're in the shower."

"Really?" Merlin asked.

"Yeah. It's no problem."

"Um… yeah. That'd be great, then." Merlin handed over his keys and fastened on Aithusa's lead. "You can just take her once or twice around the building."

"Cool. Come on, girl. Go for a walk?"

Aithusa yipped gruffly, her stubby tail wagging excitedly, and Arthur let her drag him out into the hall.

Merlin locked the door behind them and hurried into the shower. He didn't know what was going on, but Arthur seemed even more melancholy than he had all week. Maybe the visit with his sister had been even worse than he'd said. Or maybe he was losing patience with missing so many days of work—Merlin always got antsy two or three days into a staycation, and that was when he wasn't itching to distract himself from so much drama. He couldn't blame Arthur for getting down about how badly the week was going.

Arthur and Aithusa weren't back when Merlin got out of the shower, so he walked across the hall to his room naked to finish drying off and get dressed. He heard them coming back as he was pulling on a shirt, and he quickly slipped on socks before going back out to the living room.

"How was she?" Merlin asked, hanging up the lead after Arthur took it off Aithusa's collar.

"Very curious about a little white butterfly," Arthur reported. "It was fucking adorable."

"Aw." Merlin knelt down to scratch under Aithusa's chin. "Did you try to eat it, you little monster?"

Arthur chuckled. "She managed to control her appetite."

"That's the first time anyone has ever said that about her," Merlin said as he stood back up. "Any preferences for games? Or food? I figure we should eat dinner at some point."

"Well… if I weren't here, I would probably be getting falafel takeaway," Arthur suggested.

"Oh, shit. I haven't had falafel in ages. Let's do that."

"I'll put an order," Arthur volunteered, pulling out his mobile as he sat on the sofa. "I'm not picky about games. Whatever you want to play."

"Would you be interested in Soulcalibur?"

Arthur chuckled as he typed something out on his mobile. "That sounds perfect, actually."

Merlin set up the game while Arthur ordered their food, and within minutes they were choosing their fighters.

"Oh, no, not—not Voldo, Merlin!" Arthur groaned.

Merlin grinned and confirmed his choice. "Fuck yes, Voldo. What do you have against my creepy friend?"

"The fact that he is creepy." Arthur gestured at the screen. "Enough said, surely."

"I used to make Voldo fan art."

"That's worst news I've ever heard," Arthur said around a laugh. "Jesus. Was it… sexual?"

"No. I mean, it's Voldo, so it was unavoidably sexy, but it wasn't, like, sex scenes or anything. Just a lot of costume work, mostly."

"I don't think we can be friends anymore."

"We should battle it out," Merlin said, starting the duel.

"Ugh," Arthur complained as soon as Merlin advanced Voldo on his Siegfried. "Seriously, those hips. They make me want to stick toothpicks in my eyes."

"Drama queen," Merlin teased.

They played through a few rounds until their dinner arrived and Arthur grabbed Merlin's keys and ran out to the lift.

While Arthur was getting the food, Merlin checked his mobile since he had felt it buzzing it his pocket during their game. He found a text from Gwaine.

;) hey. You around tonight?

Merlin glanced up at the telly and then over at the door Arthur had fled out of the minute before. He hadn't hooked up with Gwaine since Monday—which felt like a long time considering how often they had been fucking until then—and while his body was somewhat tempted by the offer, he certainly wasn't going to walk away from dinner and games with a despondent Arthur just for a good shag.

Hey! I can't tonight but let's hang out this weekend

"Okay," Arthur said, bursting back through the door and kicking it shut behind him before Aithusa could run out into the hall. "Delivery guy had a lot of facial piercings."

Merlin put his mobile on silent and slid it back to into his pocket. "Sounds hot."

Arthur made a vague noise of assent and started setting out their food on the coffee table. Merlin went to the kitchen to grab plates and put the kettle on.

"Did you want beer?" he asked, settling back down on the sofa. "Because I don't actually have any."

Arthur chuckled. "No, I'm fine. Rematch?"

"While we eat?"

Arthur shrugged, balancing his controller on one knee as he took a bite of his falafel sandwich.

"Okay," Merlin agreed. "Fair warning that I am actually falafel-handed, so you're going down."

Arthur choked a little. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of food.

"What?" Merlin asked innocently.

Arthur swallowed and coughed again. "What the fuck is falafel-handed?"

"You know, like… 'I am not left-handed.' I am not… non-falafel-handed. I play better with a falafel in my hand."

Arthur exhaled slowly. "Wow. Okay."

Merlin took a large bite out of his sandwich to hide his grin and started up the next game.

They played until their tea was ready, and then they continued playing, rotating through different sets of characters, until the food was gone and their mugs were empty.

"You are not picking Voldo again," Arthur said, putting his feet up on the coffee table and crossing his ankles.

"The only way to stop me is to pick him yourself."

Arthur let out a long, wrecked sigh before choosing Voldo as his next fighter.

Merlin sniggered and also picked Voldo for himself.

"Fuck, I hate you," Arthur said flatly. "I hate you so much."

Merlin chuckled as he made his Voldo wiggle about on the screen in an unseemly way. "Nah, you're into it."

"I am not. I hate it. I hate him. And I hate you. I can't believe I looked up that stupid shit for you."

"What stupid shit?"

Arthur went quiet, his hands tense around his controller.

Merlin frowned and played the rest of the match without much effort, letting Arthur win.

"What did you look up?" he asked as he set up his next fighter, deliberately skipping over Voldo on the menu.

Arthur scratched a freckle on his arm. "I… you mentioned that, um… that art style with the stained glass, or whatever."

"Paint-on-glass animation?" Merlin asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Yeah." Arthur picked his next character quickly and moved into the next battle, his fingers flying over his controller as he took down Merlin with surprising efficiency.

"Jesus," Merlin muttered, fighting pointlessly against Arthur's onslaught. "What the hell?"

Arthur finished off Merlin's fighter and flung his arms up in the air. "That's how you play. Fuck Voldo."

Merlin chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Keep saying that, it's definitely getting across the point that you don't want to fuck Voldo."

Arthur groaned. "Gross." He picked up his controller again and wiggled the sticks. "Keep playing?"

Merlin shrugged and shifted a little on the sofa so he could face Arthur instead of the telly. "What about paint-on-glass did you look up?"

Arthur shrugged and kept his eyes on his controller as he answered. "Just… read about it on Wikipedia. Watched a couple short clips on YouTube. It's pretty."

"Yeah? I fucking love it. Did you watch anything by Petrov?"

Arthur shrugged again. "I didn't really pay attention."

"Did you watch anything with an ocean in it?"

Arthur shook his head and glanced up. "No. Does he just do sea films?"

Merlin grinned. "No, but he did the Old Man and the Sea and a one about a mermaid. I can show you, if you're interested? They're short."

Arthur gave Merlin a shy smile and nodded, and Merlin's stomach flipped a little as he closed out of Soulcalibur to pull up the animations.

Merlin took Aithusa to the dog park on Friday morning. He had to carry her there so she wouldn't be too exhausted to play with the other dogs, and then he had to carry her home after an hour so she wouldn't overwork herself.

Once she was happily passed out in her bed in his office, Merlin went for a long run. He'd stayed up too late the night before nerding out with Arthur, and a run wasn't going to make him any less tired, but he needed to do something with his day. He had to turn in his final drafts to Avalon before he went to bed, but that was the only thing on his agenda. And he couldn't spend his whole day fretting over the details of the cave and tree pieces. He just needed to touch up a few things and then send them off.

And he couldn't spend the whole day in his flat with nothing to distract him from memories of the night before. Arthur had stayed on his sofa for hours, letting Merlin show him short film after short film until they were both nearly falling asleep. Merlin had run through every paint-on-glass animation he could find—Arthur had correctly identified Petrov's ocean-set films as inspirations for Merlin's seascape in Labyrinth of Gedref—and then moved on to every other old Soviet cartoon he could think of, and after that he'd found a series of very early American animations.

In the end, Arthur had actually nodded off before Merlin finally turned off the telly and shooed him out the door.

But that wasn't before they'd ended up right next to each other on the sofa, both of them having gravitated more toward the centre each time they sat back down after going to the kitchen or the loo. They'd kept a barely respectable amount of distance between them on the seat, which gave them the freedom both to pretend that they weren't inches away from cuddling and to focus their attentions on their feet. They had both put up their feet on the coffee table, and once when Merlin had been reaching for the remote, his foot had knocked into Arthur's. After that, they'd spent the rest of the night tapping their toes together, either making up their own rhythms or following whatever songs were playing in the short films.

Maybe it wouldn't have felt so weird if they had just acknowledged it in some way, but neither of them had. They didn't talk about it, they didn't laugh about it, they just let it happen. Something about it felt too wrong to speak about.

Or maybe something about it had felt too right.

Merlin didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know what Arthur was doing, either. But every time he had the opportunity to halt their slow journey toward awkward sexual tension, he just didn't. He leaned into it instead, and Arthur never stopped it, either.

When the clouds finally opened up and started pouring down over London, Merlin jogged to the nearest Tube stop and made his way home, trying his best to keep a distance from the other passengers so he wouldn't sweat on anyone.

Aithusa greeted him as soon as he stepped back into his flat, one of her toys dangling from her mouth, already dripping with drool.

"How do you already have energy again?" Merlin asked as he bent down.

He tugged the toy out of her mouth and tossed it into the kitchen for her to run after, and then he went to take a shower. When he came back out, Aithusa was asleep again, snoring away under the sofa.

Merlin fixed himself some lunch and set himself up in his office, ready to give his art a once-over before submitting it.

Of course, he got pulled into the editing process and ended up spending several hours adjusting the lighting and small details no one would notice. In the end, he had to make himself stand up to keep from changing anything else. Leaning over his desk, he sent out his drafts to Avalon and then turned off the computer to prove to himself that he was finished.

Flopping down on his bed, Merlin pulled out his mobile and considered his options for the rest of the night. He hadn't seen much of Freya for the past few days, although he guessed she would probably be spending her Friday night with Leon, which left him on his own. He could phone Gwen and see if she was free—he really wanted to know more about her apparent relationship with Arthur's sister—but she probably also already had plans, what with her multiple partners. Lance probably did, too.

He could see if Arthur wanted company. Although, he knew Gwaine rarely worked regular hours, so there was a pretty good chance that Gwaine was home, too. Maybe Merlin could spend his evening getting fucked. Or maybe he could invite Arthur over to his flat again.

Merlin rolled onto his stomach and typed out a message for Gwaine.

Hey. I'm done for the day, are you around?

Sorry, I'm meeting up with Leon and some others after work. I think we're going to see what's playing at the cinema. Come along?

Merlin considered going out to see a film with Gwaine, but he also considered the alternative, and it was an uncomfortably easy choice.

I'd probably fall asleep in the theatre, I'm exhausted for some reason. Have fun, though!

Gwaine didn't respond to that, and Merlin felt a little guilty for turning him down for the second night in a row.

On the other hand, they had definitely decided they were only seeing each other for the sex, so it really shouldn't have been a big deal for Merlin to turn down something closer to a date night.

Except that Merlin knew he probably would have also turned down the opportunity for sex. And now he knew that Gwaine wasn't home and wouldn't be home for most of the night.

Merlin rolled off his bed and went to the kitchen to find something for dinner. He ended up eating a sandwich in front of the telly, idly flipping back and forth between channels until his food was done and his hands were finally free to take out his mobile and send a text.

How is Friday treating you?

Arthur's response came almost immediately.

I'm so fucking bored. What are you doing?

Literally nothing

Same. You can come over if you want. Also I have no shame, so if you do come, can you please bring Aithusa

Merlin grinned and pressed his face into a sofa cushion for a moment. He let himself bask in the ease of his friendship with Arthur, and how much Arthur liked his dog, and how blatantly they both wanted to spend time together. Then he pulled himself together and went to find Aithusa.

Fifteen minutes later, Merlin was sat out on Arthur's balcony with a glass of wine in hand. Arthur was stretched out in the next lounge chair with Aithusa in his lap. He looked tired but happy, which was a really good combination on him.

Arthur was talking about some scientific paper he'd read earlier in the day, but Merlin was lost. He didn't know most of the technical words Arthur was using. Arthur didn't seem to mind, though. He seemed perfectly content to talk at Merlin and Aithusa without actually being understood.

Merlin wondered if Arthur had talked to anyone else all day.

"…which is fucking wild," Arthur finished off his summary of the paper.

Merlin gave a murmur of assent.

"You couldn't care less, could you?" Arthur teased.

"Caring is different than comprehending."

Arthur chuckled and drained his wine glass. "Do you think she comprehended?" he asked, rubbing Aithusa's ears.

"She only comprehends food and toys."

"Sounds blissful." Arthur poured himself another glass and settled back in his chair with a long sigh. "Thanks for coming over. I was about to lose it."

"It's no problem at all. I was getting antsy as well. Have you been home alone all day?"

"Yeah. I slept in for once and Gwaine and Leon were both gone when I woke up. They're out seeing some shit film, I think."

"Oh? You didn't want to go?"

Arthur shrugged and traced the little swirl of Aithusa's tail. "I wasn't in the mood." He took a long sip of his wine. "What about you? No other prospects for the evening?"

"I also was not in the mood for Gwaine's film adventures," Merlin admitted. "I probably could have reached out to Gwen or Lance, but it was already late, so I figured they probably had plans." Merlin licked his lips, realising that was actually a poor excuse. He should have reached out to Gwen or Lance to check if they were available. He hadn't spent quality time with either of them in weeks, and he could have at least tried. But, instead, he'd reached out to Arthur.

"Lance is Gwen's boyfriend?"

"Yeah. Well, partner. Or date-mate or whatever other non-gendered term you can come up with."

"Ah. I thought people were referring to her 'partner' to indicate, like… their level of commitment or whatever."

Merlin shrugged. "Yeah. That too."

When Arthur didn't seem to have anything else to add, Merlin asked, "So, Morgana's dating Gwen?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Apparently. Apparently she's always been interested in women. She just never bothered to mention it until just now. I don't even know if she would have ever mentioned it if I hadn't barged into her flat while Gwen was there."

Merlin sniggered. "What were they doing when you barged in?"

"Nothing, thankfully." Arthur sighed again and set his wine glass down so he could rub his eyes without taking his other hand off Aithusa. "I told her I was gay well over a decade ago, and she's been bi or whatever that whole time, too. It's just…"

"That's frustrating," Merlin acknowledged.

"Everything about Morgana is frustrating. Especially the fact that's she right about everything all the time. Don't tell her I said that, though."

"Your secret's safe with me." Merlin refilled his glass and adjusted himself on the chair so he could face Arthur a little easier. "If it makes you feel any better, Gwen is really excellent, so at least you know your sister has good taste in women."

Arthur snorted. "Cheers." He sipped his wine and they sat in silence for a while until he asked, "How do you know Gwen? Through her brother?"

"No, the opposite. I met Lance first, actually. They were always… very genuine, like, achingly so. I guess it rubbed off on me, eventually, because they were the first person I came out to. They started going out with Gwen shortly after that, and then I met her, and through her I met Elyan, and… yeah. And then we all lived happily ever after."

Arthur smiled. "Sounds lovely."

"Yeah. Except for the whole heartbreak thing, but, you know. C'est la vie."

"Sorry."

Merlin shrugged. "It's fine. I'm over it. I think."

Arthur chuckled. "Convincing."

Merlin took a large gulp of wine. "Mostly it was just the loss, you know? Like, I can admit that Elyan and I probably wouldn't have worked out in the long run. And hopefully one day I'll find someone that will work out in the long run. But I still loved him, and we were together for a long time, and we went through some stuff together, so…"

Merlin cleared his throat and turned to look up at the sky, realising that the wine was getting to his head.

"Dunno why we keep putting so much effort into finding love," Arthur said after a while. "Sounds like shit, to be honest."

Merlin snorted. "The shittiest."

"Fancy the hot tub? I can lend you a suit."

Merlin turned to look at Arthur. "You have a hot tub?"

Arthur grinned. "Yeah."

"Fuck yeah."

Merlin followed Arthur back inside where they dropped Aithusa off in the living room. She scrambled up to the loft—probably to curl up and sleep again—and Arthur went to set up the spa while Merlin changed in the loo.

Arthur's trunks were too big and too long and too baggy, though, so Merlin ended up getting into the hot tub in his own pants.

"What music is this?" Merlin asked, taking the fresh glass of wine Arthur was holding out for him.

"Some kind of hot tub playlist on Spotify," Arthur said as he slipped into the water.

"That's incredibly specific."

Arthur chuckled and poured himself a glass a wine before settling in the corner opposite Merlin.

"Well," Merlin said, stretching out an arm along the side of the tub and taking in the view out the full-length windows, "this was an excellent idea."

"Hot tubs make Fridays one hundred percent better, one hundred percent of the time."

Merlin nodded as he sipped his wine. "Question, though. Doesn't it take like six hours for these things to warm up?"

Arthur tossed back most of his wine in one go. "I may have been in here earlier. I've been very bored today."

Merlin bit down a smile. "You should go on holiday. Fuck all this work and family drama."

"I guess technically I've been on holiday all week."

"Having a panic attack is not the proper way to start your holiday."

Arthur snorted and took another long gulp of wine. "True."

Merlin looked down in his glass and could feel himself going red at the suggestion he was about to make but hoped maybe Arthur would blame it on the hot water.

"You should go to Canada," he said. "Get properly away for a few days."

Arthur's eyebrows went up. "Go to Canada… with you?"

Merlin shrugged, flushing deeper. "Yeah. If you like. Montréal's a fun city."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a long moment, and Merlin started tapping his fingers in rhythm to the song coming out of the Bluetooth stereo near the door.

"Or, you know, you could not," Merlin said when he couldn't stand it anymore. "That would probably be weird."

"No," Arthur said quietly. "It would be nice. I just can't reasonably ask for more time off when I just missed a full week."

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. That's fair." He ran a wet hand through his hair and then, setting his wine glass on the edge, slid down to dunk his whole head in the water.

"Fuck, that's hot," he gasped, coming back up.

"It's right in the name, Merlin," Arthur teased.

Merlin scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to get all the warm water out of his stubble.

"I wish we had a nice pool to jump in after this," Merlin said, reaching for his wine again. "We could just alternate between the two until we were pruny."

"Best I can do is fill the regular tub with cool water."

Merlin chuckled. "That's all right. I'm mostly joking." He wiped off his face again, still overheated from his dip.

"Do you ever think about going clean-shaven?" Arthur asked. "It'd be a good look."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Do you know how long it took for me to be able to grow facial hair? I may never grow sick of it. Besides, I was 'clean-shaven' my whole life, and it was not that good of a look."

Arthur laughed silently into his wine glass. "Right," he said. "Sorry."

Merlin lifted a foot to the surface and splashed Arthur a little.

"Hey!" Arthur said, holding his wine over the edge of the tub. "You're ruining my drink."

"Like you don't have more."

Arthur pulled a face and Merlin smiled to himself, sinking lower in the tub until only his neck and head were above the water. He lifted his foot and splashed Arthur again.

Merlin woke up to the sound of his own snoring. Or maybe it was the sound of Aithusa snoring, although she rarely slept in his room.

Lifting his head to check, Merlin realised with a nauseating jolt that he wasn't in his own bed. He wasn't even in his own flat.

"Fuck," Merlin groaned, turning onto his side. He could hear Aithusa snoring somewhere nearby, but he couldn't fathom getting up to find her.

The bed in Arthur's guest room was unreasonably comfortable. All Merlin wanted to do was go back to sleep, preferably until his hangover was gone.

He had no idea how long he and Arthur had stayed up. They'd gone in and out of the hot tub several times, drinking more and more wine until they were too drunk to stand the hot water but also too drunk to think of anything better to do. Arthur had escorted Merlin to the guest room and—

Merlin pushed the covers back and confirmed his suspicion that he had slept naked. He could only hope that he had waited until Arthur left the guest room before stripping down.

Taking a deep breath, Merlin forced himself to sit up. His head spun a little, and his stomach was tight and painfully empty, but he knew he needed to get up. He needed to get up and go back to his own home and try to forget that he'd invited Arthur along on his business trip to Montréal.

Merlin got gingerly to his feet and went into the en suite where he found his pants hang-drying in the shower. The rest of his clothes weren't there, though, and it took him a few minutes to remember that he'd gotten changed for the hot tub in Arthur's room.

"Fuck me," Merlin mumbled, pulling on his briefs.

After finding Aithusa under the bed and hoisting her up in his arms, Merlin made his way down the hall to Arthur's master bedroom.

The door was open and the room was empty. The en suite and spa were empty, too, and no one was out on the balcony.

Merlin hurried to get dressed and made it all the way to the front door, but then Gwaine came out of the kitchen.

"Hey."

Merlin set Aithusa down, and she immediately stuck her face in a pair of shoes by the door.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?" Gwaine asked, looking amused.

"I… got drunk in Arthur's hot tub," Merlin admitted. "Slept in the guest room."

Gwaine smirked. "Sounds like a good night."

Merlin shrugged. "How was the film?"

"Stupid, but fun. Leon brought Percy, which was less fun, but whatever."

"Percy?" Merlin asked around a yawn.

"Leon's friend from work… he's the straight guy."

Merlin frowned, wondering if such a coincidence were possible.

"Is Arthur your straight guy?" Gwaine asked when Merlin didn't respond.

Merlin blinked and tried to figure out if he was still drunk because Gwaine's question hadn't made any sense to him. "What?"

"You know. Like, I'm fucking you but pining after Percy. Are you fucking me but pining after Arthur?"

"Arthur's gay."

Gwaine have him a pointed look and Merlin sighed.

He did look genuinely curious, though. It didn't seem like he would be upset or even judgmental if Merlin decided to admit to something. But Merlin wasn't in the right state to have anything close to that conversation.

"No," Merlin said after a moment. "I'm just…" He shrugged, no excuses or explanations coming to mind.

Gwaine didn't look convinced, but he dropped it. "Do you want breakfast? I was just thinking about making waffles."

Merlin looked down to see Aithusa trotting happily down the hall, someone's shoe in her mouth.

"She's going to try to eat that."

"It was Arthur's," Gwaine said, grinning. "He'll live without it. Come on."

Merlin followed Gwaine into the kitchen and propped himself up at the island while Gwaine whisked together the waffle batter.

It took several helpings and a large mug of coffee, but eventually Merlin felt better and properly awake. He stayed at the island for a while, listening to Gwaine recount the film from the night before until Aithusa came in and started pawing at his jeans.

"I need to take her out," Merlin said, slipping off the stool and stretching. "And feed her. She's been very patient."

Gwaine scooped up Aithusa and planted a kiss on her head. "She's a very good girl."

Merlin chuckled and scratched between Aithusa's ears and then tousled Gwaine's hair.

"What are you doing the rest of the day?" Gwaine asked, following Merlin to the front door.

"Dunno," Merlin said as he crouched down to put on his shoes. "Do you have plans?"

"I was hoping to tempt you into Pick a Dick again."

Merlin licked his lips and finished lacing his trainers before standing back up. "Yeah? What are you using to tempt me?"

"Well, the waffles, for one."

"And for two?"

Gwaine tilted his head and gave Merlin a long look. "For two, I won't pester you about your obvious crush on Arthur. And for three, I'll rim you while you ride my face with your arse."

"You're impossible," Merlin sighed.

Gwaine grinned. "Maybe. You're still going to fuck me, though, right?"

"Obviously. You're carrying her the whole way, though," he said, opening the door and stepping into the foyer. "And I don't have a crush on Arthur."

"'Course not," Gwaine agreed conspiratorially. "Who would? He's a complete wanker."

"You're so charming."

Gwaine hit the button for the elevator and leaned in to tug on Merlin's earlobe with his teeth. "You know you like it."

Merlin shook his head, grinning.

Arthur chose to ignore the odd looks the hotel clerk gave him as he provided her his information to check in. He was sure she must have seen other local people stay in the hotel before. Just because he lived in the same city didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a weekend away at a nice hotel with room service and fluffy robes.

"What brings you to the Balor today?" the clerk asked, smiling, as she handed Arthur's ID and credit card back over.

Arthur fought not to scowl. "Home repairs," he invented.

She nodded, looking sceptical—probably because he'd only booked his room for a single Saturday night—but finished setting up his reservation on her computer without further comment.

"All right." She handed over his receipt, a pamphlet about the hotel's accommodations, and the key card to his room. "Deluxe Junior Suite with a courtyard view. Would you like me to call a butler to assist you with settling in?"

"No, thank you." Arthur tightened his grip on his luggage, feeling ridiculous. "I'm sure I'll manage."

The clerk nodded. "Enjoy your stay then, Dr Pendragon. Please don't hesitate to ring if you need anything at all."

Arthur murmured his thanks and headed toward the lifts.

When he got up to his suite, he dropped his bag in the sitting room and went straight for the bedroom, where he flopped down on the bed and took a few long, deep breaths of the freshly laundered bedding.

He considered never moving again. Maybe he could extend his stay and move into the hotel permanently. Maybe Merlin and Aithusa could take over his portion of the penthouse flat and everyone would live happily ever after without him.

Arthur rolled onto his back with a grunt and started flipping through the booklet he'd been given at the reception desk. The Balor Hotel had a tea store for some reason. Maybe he would go and spend an unreasonable amount of money on some tea and sweets. They had jam and biscuits, too.

There was a fitness centre in the hotel as well. And they offered in-room massages.

Arthur went back into the sitting room to phone the concierge, and within an hour he was lying flat on a massage table while a young woman pressed the bases of her palms into his upper back.

"You're holding a lot of tension," she said, pushing down harder.

Arthur sighed and tried to relax his shoulders.

"There you go." The massage therapist, Mithian, tugged on both of his arms, situating them on the table so that his shoulders were being pulled down. "Rough week?"

"Worst week," Arthur muttered.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know we discussed doing a full-body massage, but I can focus more on your back, if you'd like."

Arthur nodded and closed his eyes as she continued working the muscles around his shoulder blades. She moved up to the back of his neck after that, and then to his right shoulder.

With a pang of humiliation in his gut as Mithian squeezed his muscles, Arthur realised that he was tearing up. His throat was getting tight and his eyes were getting wet and—yes, he was crying on a massage table in front of a complete stranger. While naked.

He turned his head quickly, pressing his face down into the towel underneath him. He took a deep breath but his chest stuttered on the exhale, and on his next breath he lost it completely.

"I'm sorry," he managed as Mithian stopped massaging him. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," she said gently, placing both hands on the back of his arm. "You're hardly the first."

Arthur wasn't sure if that was true or if she was just trying to make him feel better. He didn't know if anything would ever make him feel better ever again.

When the towel and the massage table against his chest started making it harder for him to breath, Arthur rolled over and sat up to try to get himself to calm down. The sheet slipped, and Mithian re-draped him calmly and then stayed next to him, her hands on his shoulder.

"Just breathe," she said in a soft voice. "In…" She waited patiently for Arthur to suck in some air. "And out." Arthur released the air on a sob and slumped forward, burying his face in his hands. "That's it. Don't hold back. Just let it out."

Arthur did, his tears dripping onto the sheets until Mithian handed him a tissue.

He couldn't believe the state his life was in. Merlin was—Merlin was only the tip of the iceberg, really. His family was in ruins. Uther had betrayed Morgana, had betrayed Arthur, had betrayed everything he'd ever claimed to stand for.

Morgana was younger than him, somehow. Not by much, but still. And her mother…

And his mother. Uther had cheated on Arthur's mother, while she was pregnant, and had never even been married to Morgana's mother. He'd lied to them so much. Arthur knew that neither he nor Morgana would have taken the truth well at any point, but hearing it from Uther himself would have been better than this.

Anything would have been better than this.

And the money. The unfathomable amount of money that Uther and his co-conspirators had taken from Camelot over the past three decades. And for what? Uther had always lived comfortably, as had his children, but there was nothing extravagant about his lifestyle.

Except for the homes in Italy and Greece that Arthur had only found out about by mistake.

And the art collection that Uther always insisted was made up of reproductions, even though his level of care and security for them suggested otherwise.

And the investments.

Arthur had always just thought that Uther was clever. He'd taught Arthur how to handle money, Arthur was more well off than most of his friends mostly just because he was always conscious of his income. He'd been investing and experimenting with stocks and bonds and various funds since he was old enough to open accounts in his own name, and he'd been reaping the benefits ever since.

But the whole thing was just built on a lie. Uther wasn't good with money—he was a fucking criminal.

He'd stolen money from Camelot, where he'd worked for so long, where both of his children worked, where their whole family had dedicated their lives to building better prosthetics for those that needed them.

Where Arthur never wanted to return. He couldn't imagine walking back into the office on Monday and going back to work like nothing had happened. He couldn't imagine what his junior engineers must be thinking of him, or what the other senior engineers were saying about him, or what everybody outside of his division might have heard about him.

Maybe he wouldn't even be allowed to go back to work like nothing had happened. He hadn't had any contact with anyone besides Annis, but she had said that he might come under suspicion during the investigation. Would anyone really think him innocent? Everyone knew he and Morgana were close with Uther. Everyone knew Camelot was basically their family business. Everyone knew Uther had ushered his children into the company. Maybe now everyone would think they knew why.

Arthur couldn't stand the thought of what his reputation would be like when he went back on Monday.

But he didn't have anywhere else to go. Camelot was the country's premier developer of prosthetics and orthotics, and Arthur wouldn't be able to find a better industry lab without switching fields or moving outside of England or even the UK.

Fuck Uther for marring his career like this. And ruining their family. And being so deeply selfish.

"Dr Pendragon?"

"Don't," Arthur said, sniffing. "Please. It's Arthur."

"Arthur," Mithian agreed, and when Arthur looked up, she was smiling at him.

"I'm so sorry," he said, wiping his eyes.

"You have nothing to apologise for," she assured him. "It's very normal. It's good, actually. It's a sign we were making progress in helping relieve some of your tension."

Arthur nodded and sniffed again. Mithian handed him another tissue, and he blew his nose loudly. Christ, he was such a mess.

"If you'd like, I can continue," she offered. "Or I can give you some time to sit. I can turn out the lights, leave the candles lit…"

Arthur shook his head and wiped off his eyes one last time. "No, I'm—" The word 'fine' died on his lips. "Can we continue? Please."

"Of course. Would you like some water first?"

Arthur nodded, and she handed him a small bottle of water. He took a few sips and blew his nose again before settling back down on his stomach. Mithian adjusted his arms again, pulling on them slightly to make his shoulders relax, before going back to work.

Arthur tried his hardest to keep his mind blank for the rest of the massage. It was a challenge to find anything safe to think about. He liked thinking about playing with Aithusa, but that just made him think about Merlin. He liked having time and space to think about his work and the wrist joints he was engineering, but then he'd just start thinking about everything else going on at Camelot. And thinking about Camelot led to thinking about his family.

In the end, Arthur constructed a fantasy of lying on a beach under the sun. Maybe he had a cool drink in his hand. Maybe someone was with him. Could be just a friend, maybe Leon. Could be someone special, some nameless, faceless man he'd yet to meet. Could even be Morgana, if maybe one day they figured out how to go on holiday together without murdering each other.

When she was finally done with his back, Mithian worked briefly on his arms and then a little longer on his legs and feet, and then she moved up again, massaging up from his lower back to his shoulders until Arthur was so loose and limp than he was nearly asleep.

"All right," Mithian said, leaving one hand on Arthur's back. "How are you feeling?"

Arthur managed a murmur. He opened his eyes and shifted around a little, trying to get his vision or his mind to focus on something.

"Take your time." Mithian pulled her hand away and Arthur managed to sit up. "I'll step out in the hall while you get dressed. There's no rush, but let me know when you're finished."

Arthur nodded, rolling his head. He heard her leaving, the door clicking shut, and tried to find the energy to get off the table.

All he wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep. Maybe not on the massage table, though.

Using thoughts of the hotel's enormous soft bed as motivation, Arthur slipped off the table and pulled his clothes back on, forgetting until it was too late that he should have just gotten into a robe. When he opened the door to his suite, he found Mithian a few doors down talking to one of the butlers.

"Ready?" she asked, flashing him a bright smile. Arthur nodded and she said something low to the butler before coming back into Arthur's sitting room.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked as she started packing up.

"I do," Arthur admitted. "You're a wonder."

Mithian chuckled. "I'm happy to help. Here." She reached into her bag and handed him a small packet of digestives. "Have some more water, too. You'll feel more alert."

"I was thinking of taking a nap, actually," Arthur admitted.

"Don't let me keep you," Mithian said as she folded up the table. "I can let myself out."

"I don't want to be rude."

"It's not rude, I promise. Please."

Arthur considered her for a moment before nodding in agreement. He picked up his wallet from where he'd thrown on the couch as he'd undressed and thumbed through the bills.

"Here," he said, handing over most of his cash. "Thank you. That was exactly what I needed."

Mithian glanced at the money he was trying to give her. "Dr Pendragon, that's really—"

"Please," Arthur insisted. "You deserve it."

Mithian smiled. "I appreciate that. There was a service charge added to your room bill that will cover everything."

"I'm not letting you leave without this."

Mithian rolled her eyes, still smiling, but took the cash. "Are you sure? That's very generous."

"I'm sure."

Mithian nodded and slipped her tip into a pocket. "Thank you very much, Dr Pendragon."

"Arthur," he corrected. "And, like I said, you deserve it. Thank you for everything."

Mithian nodded and held out her hand for Arthur to shake. "My pleasure."

Arthur gave a wave and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind himself. He wanted to just crawl right into the bed, but he was still covered in massage oil. His clothes were already shot, and he didn't want to have to call for his sheets to be changed before he'd even spent the night in them.

Leaving his oily clothes in a heap on the floor, Arthur stepped into the shower in his en suite to scrub himself. He used the hottest water he could stand, enjoying how relaxed his muscles were and wanting to prolong that feeling for as long as possible.

He felt like pudding by the time he was finished, and he crawled under the covers naked and fell asleep within seconds.

Arthur checked out of the Balor the next afternoon and treated himself to another lunch in the hotel's restaurant before heading home.

Halfway to the Tube stop, however, he changed his mind and hailed a cab instead.

Uther lived in a large house on the west side of London.

A very large house. Too large of a house for just one man.

Arthur kicked over a potted plant on the front step as he rang the doorbell. No doubt the house—which Uther had bought when Arthur and Morgana were teenagers—had been funded largely by Camelot's stolen money.

Arthur heard the doorbell echo in the front hall of the house, but after five minutes there was no answer at the door. Too frustrated to give up, Arthur continued laying on the doorbell, pounding on and occasionally kicking the front door as well.

He kept up with the onslaught for a full 20 minutes before Uther finally came to the door.

"Oh," Uther said, putting on a ludicrous surprised expression. "It's you."

"You knew it was me," Arthur said flatly. "You have a fucking security camera."

"There's no need for that language," Uther said. "Or that tone."

Restraining himself from kicking over more of Uther's things, Arthur pushed his way past his father and went straight for the kitchen. He sat himself at the bar and dropped his bag to the floor.

"Are you staying?" Uther asked, eyeing Arthur's luggage.

"No."

"Good."

Arthur rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, thinking that maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. He was probably negating all of the relaxing he'd done over the past 24 hours. And he probably wasn't going to get any satisfying answers from his father.

"How's work?" Uther finally asked when he realised Arthur was content to let the silence stretch on forever.

"Couldn't tell you," Arthur said gruffly. "Haven't been in since Monday."

Uther frowned. "Why? Did they ask you to stay home?"

"No, but I didn't exactly feel like being there when I found out what happened."

Uther crossed to a cabinet next to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of some amber-coloured alcohol. He didn't offer any to Arthur.

"What did happen?" Arthur asked.

"I was arrested," Uther said mildly. "Released on bail. I had to surrender my passport."

Arthur scoffed. "That's… that's not really what I was asking."

"What were you asking, then?"

"Why the fuck did you do it? We were never poor, we didn't need the money."

"You don't remember being poor because you were too young. I was raising two children, I had lost two wives, I was—"

"One wife," Arthur corrected. "One mistress."

Uther looked unconcerned with the technicalities. "It wasn't easy."

"Fine. It wasn't easy. Stealing wasn't the answer, though. Especially not for three decades, well past the point where you could have claimed it was needed."

"What are you hoping to hear from me, Arthur?" Uther asked, his expression hardening. He looked old and tired and pale. Arthur wondered if his hair had gone greyer over the past week.

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. "The truth, I guess. Some remorse? Anything."

Uther shook his head. Arthur sighed and turned to look out the windows, wondering why he had come here, what he was trying to accomplish, and how to get out of it now that he saw there was no point.

"Have you heard from your uncle?" Uther asked eventually.

Arthur turned back to him, surprised. "Agravaine? No, why?"

"He's been ignoring my calls," Uther explained. For the first time, he looked worried. Shaken, even. "I've been trying to reach him. Could you try?"

"I guess," Arthur said slowly. "Why?"

"One of his friends, Helios… I'd like to hire him for my defence."

Arthur scoffed. "Are you joking? You want me to phone my uncle so he can ask one of his friends to defend you in court?"

"If you would, yes."

"Why should I?" Arthur demanded. "You were ignoring all my calls. Why shouldn't he do the same?"

"Arthur," Uther said gruffly, and Arthur felt anger spiking through him, "I'm your father. I'm your family. I'm asking for a favour."

"Go fuck yourself," Arthur spat. He picked up his bag and left as quickly as he could, ignoring Uther shouting after him as he let himself out.

He kicked over another potted plant on the front step and then headed for the Tube. He needed to talk to Morgana. He needed to snap out of it. He needed something close to normal.

Morgana didn't seem entirely surprised to see him when he let himself in with his key.

"Couldn't you at least text if you're going to pop in?" she asked as she got up from the sofa. "What if I wasn't home? What if I was in a compromising position?"

"Gross," Arthur said as he flung down his luggage.

Morgana frowned at his bag. "Are you moving in?"

"No, I was—it's a long story." He flopped down in a chair and rubbed at where he had a headache blooming behind his temples. "I just saw Dad."

"Oh," Morgana said after a long moment. "I thought he was ignoring you."

"He was. I went to his house."

"Oh," she said again. "How did it go?"

"Well, now I'm here, so how do you think it went?"

Morgana went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water for him. She sat back down on the sofa and gave him a sympathetic smile.

"How is he?"

"Fucking infuriating," Arthur muttered. "He's acting like he's done nothing wrong. Like it was completely reasonable for him to do what he did."

"Not surprising."

Arthur shook his head and took a long gulp of water.

"He asked me to contact Uncle Agravaine for him. Something about a friend he wants to hire for his defence team."

Morgana snorted. "What?"

"Yeah. All that money and he's still just grasping at straws, I guess."

"No, I mean, he really thought Agravaine would want to help?"

Arthur shrugged. "I guess. Why wouldn't he?"

"Because he has no reason to. Uther cheated on his sister, and then his sister died."

Arthur clenched his jaw, unsettled at hearing his mother talked about that way.

"Besides, if Uther's after Helios, then he's too late."

"Who is this guy?"

"He's a partner at Olaf and Alined. And I've already hired him for myself."

Arthur sighed and drained the rest of his water. "Do I need to hire someone?"

"Not if you haven't gotten involved in all this."

Arthur shook his head.

"Then you're fine."

Arthur scoffed. "I am not fine."

"No," Morgana agreed quietly. "Me, neither."

Arthur sighed again and pushed himself out of his chair to join her on the sofa.

"Any luck on a new job?" he asked.

"I haven't started looking yet. Been a bit distracted."

"Yeah. No shit."

Morgana knocked her knee against Arthur's. "What about you? Are you staying at Camelot?"

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. He pressed himself back into the sofa cushions and looked up at the ceiling. "I haven't been in since last Monday. I'm supposed to go in tomorrow, but the idea of it makes me want to puke."

Morgana patted his knee. "I'm sure it'll be fine. They've always liked you there."

Arthur shrugged. "I guess. I mean, yeah. Annis has made it clear I'm welcome to stay, it just… it feels… tainted, you know?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

Arthur shrugged again. "It's fine. I mean, no. It's fucking not fine. But it's… whatever. It is what it is."

"Have you looked around at all?" Morgana asked. "I'm sure there's something out there that's similar enough—"

"No," Arthur said. "There's nothing. Not in the UK, at least."

"What's that company up in Scotland? I'm sure they—"

"Yeah, but they're in Scotland," Arthur protested. "My life is in London. At least… it used to be. Maybe I should just move to Malaysia and start everything over."

"Why Malaysia?"

"I don't know. Seems far. I'm sure there's a need for… something I can offer. I don't know."

Morgana chuckled. "Maybe there's something, you know… similar enough but not the same that you can do a little bit closer to home. I'm sure Oxbridge would hire you."

Arthur snorted. "No, thank you."

"Maybe not them, then. You could do your research at a university, though."

"I guess," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "Literally never wanted that. Specifically decided not to go down that path. But, sure. I suppose if I get very, very desperate, I can beg some university to let me teach and hope they give me a lab I'm able to fund."

"Could happen," Morgana said sensibly. "Might be better than puking at Camelot every day."

"Ugh."

Morgana chuckled. "You're such a drama queen sometimes."

"Well, there's a lot of drama. Someone's got to reign over it all. Might as well be me."

"Yes," Morgana agreed. "You are the most qualified and the most fabulous."

Arthur chuckled and Morgana nudged his shoulder with her own.

"You'd be a good professor," she said, apparently unwilling to drop it.

"Maybe. I just never wanted to be one."

"I thought you liked working with your junior engineers."

"I do," Arthur admitted. "It's not the same, though."

Morgana hummed in apparent disagreement.

"Whatever," Arthur said, not wanting to discuss it any further. "Can I take you out for dinner?"

"Gwen's coming over in a bit."

Arthur sighed and slid lower down on the sofa. "Of course she is."

"You should stay. Get to know her. I promise we won't fuck while you're here."

Arthur groaned. "Thanks, that's so very considerate of you."

"Anything for you," Morgana said, patting his knee again.

Arthur barely managed to keep it together enough to prevent himself from having a full-blown panic attack when he got to Camelot on Monday morning. Everyone was staring at him, and the only strategy Arthur had was to keep his headphones in with music blaring as loud as he could stand until he reached the safety of his desk.

"Hey, Pendragon."

Arthur turned to see Tristan, another senior engineer, approaching, and he pulled out his headphones.

"Glad to have you back." Tristan held out a hand, and Arthur shook it hesitantly. "Your juniors have been driving me up the wall."

"Oh?"

"Apparently they like you a lot. Would not stop bugging me about some stupid thing you were working on them with."

Arthur bit down a chuckle. He knew Tristan was just trying to make him feel welcome, even though Tristan had no reason to do so since they didn't exactly have the best working relationship. Still, Arthur appreciated the gesture.

"I'll get them sorted," Arthur said. "Thank for keeping an eye out."

Tristan nodded and gave a wink before leaving for his own desk.

Arthur sat down and turned on his computer, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to keep his shoulders down so he wouldn't tense up too much.

He could do this. He could spend a day at his office. He could get some work done.

And then he could go home and cope with the stress by getting in the hot tub or getting drunk on the balcony or maybe persuading Leon to detach from Freya and play some video games with him.

But first he had to see to his junior engineers.

Ewan was the first one to greet Arthur. He literally jumped up from his desk and flagged Arthur over so he could show off what he'd been working on. Arthur settled at Ewan's computer and walked himself through the model Ewan had been updating.

"Have you built this yet?" Arthur asked, gesturing at the prototype displayed on Ewan's computer.

"No, I'm still running it through some tests."

"It's interesting," Arthur said, standing up. "You should rethink the materials you've proposed."

Ewan frowned. "I tried, but I thought…"

He trailed off and Arthur stayed silent, waiting to see if he would figure it out for himself.

"Actually, what I really want to do is make a new material," Ewan admitted, speaking low enough that he wouldn't be overheard by the other junior engineers. "I think that's our biggest limitation at this point. At least for the carpals."

"I agree." Arthur glanced between Ewan and his computer. "I need to check in with the others, but why don't you put something on my calendar for tomorrow. We can work on a proposal for Odin. Or… whoever. Annis, maybe."

Ewan's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Sure." Arthur grinned. "If you think there's an issue and you're interested in designing the solution, let's make it happen."

"Great, okay. Thank you. I'll set up a meeting. And welcome back," he added as he sat back down.

Arthur nodded his thanks and moved on to his next engineer.

By the time lunch came around, Arthur had nearly forgotten why he'd been worried about coming back to Camelot in the first place.

Then he got pulled into Garreth Kell's office.

Garreth was Camelot's CEO, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Arthur was terrified of the man. He had an imposing presence, he never smiled, and he always looked like he was about to sack the next person who looked at him wrong. Or at least set their house on fire with the intensity of his stern gaze.

Arthur found himself on the receiving end of that gaze as he took a seat in Garreth's office, and it was all he could do to keep from nervously jiggling his legs.

"You were out last week," Garreth said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Arthur said. "I wasn't… I needed some time. I'm back now, though. Ready to work."

Garreth nodded. "I'm glad. I want you to know that I think very highly of your work. I know we've been trying to promote you to Lead for a while."

Arthur's heart sank a little. He'd assumed that no one other than Annis and Odin had known he had turned down that offer.

"I like the hands-on research," he explained. "Heading up the senior engineers would be—"

"You'd still have your own projects," Garreth interrupted. "You might even have more time for them."

"Yes," Arthur agreed hesitantly. "The senior engineers need less guidance, though. I like working with the juniors."

Garreth nodded and gave Arthur another long, unnerving look.

"How would you feel about Annis's job?"

Arthur blinked, a little stunned. "Oh, I… I'm not sure. Is she moving up to take over Odin's role?"

"Don't tell anyone," Garreth said. "But, yes. We could tweak things for you in that role. Take out the Lead position since no one's in it right now, anyway. Shift some responsibilities away from the senior engineers and onto you so you'd still have contact with the junior engineers."

Arthur licked his lips, not sure what to say.

"Just think about it," Garreth said. "We have a few more weeks before we'll be making any changes to the team."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I will. Thank you. I really appreciate it."

Garreth leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes a little. "I assume you know I was never a fan of your father."

Arthur hadn't known that at all, but he nodded, anyway.

"He was a great asset to Camelot," Garreth admitted, "but a very difficult man to work with."

Arthur nodded again.

"I know you weren't involved in this. I'll do my best to protect you, but I need you to cooperate with anything asked of you during the investigation, all right?"

"All right," Arthur agreed.

Garreth nodded and stood, abruptly ending the impromptu meeting.

"Stop by anytime," he said as he opened the door to his office.

Arthur hurried to get out of his chair. "Thank you."

Garreth shook his hand as he stepped out in the hall, and then the door was shut, and Arthur was just left standing there, slightly dazed.

He went out for lunch, eager for some air. He bought falafel from a food truck and ate in a small park nearby, trying to contextualise what had just happened.

It was his first day back after an enormous public scandal involving his father and his sister. His father had embezzled from the company and been arrested. There was an investigation. Several board members had been ousted and probably also arrested.

And yet he'd still just been offered a promotion. A promotion two levels up. Even though he'd turned down the promotion for the role one level up several times.

What a bizarre organisation. Where else would go so far out of their way to make sure he knew he was still welcome?

He couldn't deny it felt good. The whole day had felt good. His junior engineers had been excited to see him and show him their work, and he had been excited to help them through their roadblocks.

And yet, he still didn't know if he wanted to stay. He couldn't reasonably accept Garreth's offer when he still had this much doubt.

When Arthur got back to his desk, he found a note from Annis asking him to come talk to her. So, bracing himself for another strange meeting, Arthur went to find her.

"How's your first day back?" she asked when they were settled in her office.

"Fine," Arthur said, crossing his legs. "Everyone's been very nice."

"Good. I heard from Tristan that now you're working with Ewan on a new biomaterial."

Arthur tried not to roll his eyes. Of course Tristan had ratted him out to Annis immediately after pretending to be glad to have him back.

"We're meeting tomorrow to discuss the possibility. I'm not sure what his ideas are, but, personally, I think something softer—"

"I thought you were working with him on the carpus."

"Yes," Arthur said, not liking her accusatory tone. "That's what he wants a new material for. Maybe just for the proximal row, I'm not sure. We've haven't met yet, but—"

"Arthur," Annis said sternly. "While I'm glad to have you back, you need to lie low. We can't have you reassigning projects on your first day in since the scandal."

"I thought I was allowed to reassign projects as I saw fit. Isn't that my job? Matching our engineers with tasks they are bested suited for?"

"Do you know if Ewan has ever worked in biomaterials before?"

"No, but I'm willing to put in the time to help him figure it out," Arthur said impatiently. "He came to me with his idea, and I want him to see it through. We have other people working on the carpus. I met with Sefa this morning. She showed me what progress she made on ulnar deviation while I was—"

"Arthur," Annis cut him off. "Come on. You've never acted this rashly before."

"Maybe I want something new to work on," Arthur said, frustrated. "Maybe I think Ewan has the potential to move this project forward. Maybe I thought I'd been given the discretion to work with my staff on what they're interested in."

"All right," Annis said, holding up her hands in defeat. "All right. I just want you to really think about your priorities. I spoke with Garreth and he said you still seem more interested in what the junior developers are doing than in your own advancement."

"Why can't it be both?" Arthur asked grumpily. "I'm not neglecting any of my other responsibilities. I like working with the junior staff. That's more than I can say for a lot of the other senior engineers, so I don't know why you're trying to discourage it. Someone needs to be looking out for them."

Annis shook her head. "You never cease to amaze, Arthur."

"I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary," Arthur insisted. "I spent my morning with the junior engineers, like I always do. When we're done here, I'm going back to my desk to focus on my own work for the afternoon, like I always do."

Annis nodded and considered him for a moment. "If you want this job," she said, tapping her desk to indicate she meant her job, "then you need to really think about the balance of research and mentoring. This isn't a university. The junior engineers should be able to work on their own merit. That's a concept you've always seemed to struggle with. Meet with Ewan tomorrow and see what his ideas are. If he's not able to implement them on his own, keep him on the carpus."

Arthur nodded even though he had no intention of following those instructions. "Anything else?" he asked.

Annis set her jaw. Arthur thought about apologising for being rude and difficult, but she wasn't exactly being easy, either.

"Just don't sabotage yourself," Annis said softly. "It should be abundantly clear by now that we're not pushing you out. You don't need to upheave everything."

Arthur nodded. "Fine. Understood."

Annis rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her pursed lips. "Get out of here," she said, waving her hand at him. "Let me know how the meeting with Ewan goes tomorrow."

Arthur let himself out of her office without responding. Meetings like that with Annis were always so exasperating, if only because she was usually right. She always let Arthur fight for his say, though, even if she ultimately shut him down.

Maybe she was right this time, too.

Arthur slumped down into his chair and glanced through his work email, accepting an invitation for a meeting with Ewan the next afternoon, and then pulled up his latest 3D model of the wrist.

He played around with the code, adjusting the firmness of the scaphoid and the lunate and running the updated version through simulated stress tests.

He was pretty sure Ewan was on to something. He'd experimented with different materials for the joint at the beginning of the project, but he hadn't ever considering just making a new material to fit his needs.

Ewan was smart and passionate and more interested in Arthur's work that a lot of the rest of his team. Arthur wanted to see him succeed. Arthur wanted to help him succeed.

Maybe Annis was right. Maybe Morgana was right. Maybe he really could be happy in a university setting.

Except that he had explicitly turned down every academic position he'd been offered when he finally finished his degrees and postdoctoral research program and was able to get out of the university systems.

The same wasn't true of all of everyone he'd studied and worked with, though.

Taking a break from staring at his model, Arthur ran a cursory search of one of his former classmates, Geraint, who had stayed on staff at their alma mater when they finished their PhDs.

He found Geraint on the faculty page of McGill University. In Montréal.

Listed as an area of research and expertise was motor control in ankle joints.

Arthur exhaled slowly, damning whatever god of coincidence that had set this up for him.