Arthur made a discontented face as he saw Merlin walk into the library and head for his table. It had not been a good day, he was not in a good mood, but Merlin looked the very picture of happiness, chirping a "Hello!" to Arthur's glare.

"You're late." He frowned.

"Only by three minutes," Merlin protested, throwing his bag into one chair and himself into another. He grinned at the librarian who'd glared at the noise. "Come on, you weren't waiting long."

"Not too long," Arthur conceded, rolling his eyes. "Now, come on, get to reading. Just our luck we have to write a skit about Arthurian legend."

"Just our luck we're taking a class about key semi-fictional elements of British history," Merlin corrected. "And that our parents decided to be 'creative' with names. Honestly, you got off easy. Arthur's a perfectly normal name—it's mine I can't go out in public with without getting laughed at."

"You're right, our names are too conspicuous. We never should have become friends." Arthur sighed and scowled. He furiously flipped through the textbook.

Merlin stared at him for a minute, but Arthur wasn't looking at him. Eventually, he shut his own textbook and moved his papers aside. "Arthur?"

A grunt was his only response.

"Arthur?"

Another grunt.

"Arthur?" Shouted, this time; the librarian's glare was ignored. "Arthur?"

"Yes."

Merlin leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

"I just…" Arthur hung his head. "I'm just not having a very good day."

"How so?" Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur's incredulity. "I can listen, if nothing else."

"Fine." He sighed again. "My father's on my arse for not being romantically involved, my uncle's on my arse about my grades, my sister tried to kill me—not literally, get that look off your face—, we have to write this stupid skit just because Professor Kilgharrah thinks our names are funny, two of our friends are getting married and I don't have a gift, let alone a date, and—" he took a deep breath, "I've got a papercut."

Merlin stared. Arthur pouted. Merlin raised an eyebrow. Arthur's pout deepened. Merlin took a deep breath. "Right."

"What?" Arthur asked defensively before pouting once more.

"I'm sorry about your dad and your uncle, although that's nothing new." Merlin grinned. "But Morgana? I'm sure she didn't mean to step on you or whatever she did. And it's just one wedding, which means one gift, and really, all you have to do is get them tickets to a renaissance fair; Gwen and Lance are weird. And—"

"Also, I've been really wanting to taste your lips recently—pardon the wording but I'm currently analyzing shit romance novels—and I'm sick of not doing anything about it, because it's not like you don't like blokes, you just might not like me, and I really don't want to throw away years of friendship, but—"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Not so much 'yes', but I have no problems with your lips. If they're on my lips, I mean. And that solves your problems about dates. Now…" He turned away from Arthur and rummaged through his bag. "I've got a band-aid. So what do you say, Prince Arthur? Let me bandage your battle wound and bring happiness to your heart?"

Arthur grinned. "Sounds good to me."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Perfect."

Happy New Year's Day and thanks for reading! :D