NO SLASH but goggles are not prohibited, if absolutely required

Oh look, another oneshot. When will she ever stop, you wonder?Well, I actually have quite a few chaptered stories that could use some publishing... but they're all at most three chapters and all unfinished, and I don't want to torture you lovely people with more cliffhangers and undeserved hiatuses.
Um... does anyone actually... want... to see them...?

There should be a bromance category to put this in. Friendship is not enough.

WARNING: Revolting OC with lots of juicy adjectives clinging to his chin, trying-to-be-perfect!Merlin, and concerned!Arthur.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Arthur or Merlin (if I did, then you'd see all my sick ideas come true... and you don't want that.)

I hope you guys love my OC (vomiting sarcasm)

"Merlin," Arthur called, condescension dripping off his words like butter (was it condescension, Merlin wondered? It didn't sound quite right….)

Merlin turned around warily. He'd been just about to head off with Arthur's laundry while the King ate his dinner. "Yes, Sire?" he said tentatively.

Arthur put down his fork and motioned the younger man over. Merlin, not knowing what else to do, hesitantly complied, setting down the clothes and coming to a stop in front of the blond man, hands folded neatly behind his back and his head slightly bowed yet eyes still attentive—the very picture of obedience.

Arthur gestured to the chair beside him. "Take a seat."

Merlin blinked. "Um, Arthur, I can't—"

"I think you'll find that you're perfectly able."

The warlock reluctantly sat down, keeping stiff as a board. There was still a pile of clothing in the middle of the floor, and he tried to ignore it, but he still found his gaze drawn to it. How he itched to get it out of the room before Arthur noticed it… he didn't want to be reprimanded for being lazy. Again.

And then Arthur sighed. "You're doing it again."

Merlin blinked again, shaking the thoughts away. "What?" He still didn't even know why Arthur had called him here.

"You're staring at my laundry."

Okay, now Merlin was confused. Surely he didn't do that too often to be a problem…? "I'm sorry if my actions have offended you, Sire—"

"You're still doing it!"

Why was Arthur never clear about what he meant? "Um, I'm… very sorry?"

The King let out a great sigh, heavy with exasperation. "No, Merlin, I mean… oh, what's wrong, you idiot?"

Merlin frowned. Was this… concern? Well, a special flavour of concern it was, if so. "There's nothing wrong with me, Sire…."

"And that too!" Arthur looked almost… sad, but he was masking it with anger. "You keep calling me 'Sire'."

"I… always call you Sire, Sire." Had he just said Sire twice in a row? Oh, Merlin was too tired to care. Couldn't he just go do Arthur's laundry and go to bed? Was this awkward little conversation really necessary?

"No, Merlin, you don't. You never do. Why are you being so respectful all of a sudden?"

"Si—" He faltered at Arthur's glare. "Arthur, I'm your servant, and you're the King. I'm supposed to be respectful. Sire." He couldn't help adding that last one on, just to spite him.

Now Arthur's face seemed to melt, all the anger and annoyance melting away to show the pained desolation in his eyes. "This isn't you, Merlin. What are you hiding from me?"

Merlin was getting a little scared. "I'm… not hiding anything from you, Sire—"

"Merlin. Stop saying that. And stop lying to me. I know you too well." Merlin wanted to scoff at that, but he didn't feel it in him. He just felt sort of… empty.

"Merlin," Arthur prompted again, sounding close to pleading. His hand was reassuring on Merlin's shoulder—when had it got there?

Merlin took a breath like he would talk… and say what? He didn't know why he felt like this. He wasn't too bothered by it, but Arthur seemed to have been harbouring these feelings for quite some time. Wasn't he happy to have an efficient, respectful servant? That's what he'd said to Lord Althalos the other day….

Merlin shuddered at the thought. Lord Althalos wasn't a very nice man.

He wasn't violent, not really, but his words cut as sharply as any blade.

TWO DAYS AGO

"Boy," Lord Althalos said in oily tones, snapping his plump fingers for the servant. Merlin masked his disgust and stepped forwards, holding the jug of wine aloft and trying not to fantasize hitting the man with it.

"My Lord?" he asked, easily slipping into obedient-servant-mode.

"My dogs need training."

Merlin blinked. "Ah… would you like me to train them, my Lord?"

Althalos sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "Yes, you stupid boy, now go do it."

Merlin ignored the dig. He'd had worse from better-meaning people. "Well, my Lord, I was going to train Arthur's dogs after serving him dinner, so I could do yours too when…." He stopped. The fat man was trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter, and the rolls of his face were jiggling and turning purple from the exertion. "My Lord?" the warlock asked, trying not to let his distaste drip into his words.

The bovine man exploded, letting out a laugh that sounded like a spitting goat. "Flahahahaha!"

Merlin tried not to be too repulsed as strings of spittle and grease flew off the man's face into his food. "My Lord?"

The laughter ended abruptly and the man laid cold eyes on the servant. "Don't use that tone with me, boy. I could have you hanged."

The warlock was not impressed. He waited for him to continue. The elephantine man was only too happy to comply, thinking he'd defeated the servant. He let out a grotesque smile of slimy yellow teeth.

"I was just thinking of that… that brat's dogs training with mine…." The slovenly Lord puffed again, unable to continue.

Merlin bristled. Did this man think he was so above Arthur he could call his own King names? "King Arthur is not a brat," he muttered, making sure to emphasize King.

Althalos narrowed his pig-eyes. "Are you talking back to me, boy?"

"No, my Lord."

"Well, I think you were. Do you think your little King playing in his toy castle appreciates you? You're incredibly insolent, you have no respect for your betters, and you can't even refill my goblet properly." He held out his cut, waving it around a little. Merlin was determined not to flush as he promptly poured some wine into it.

"Oh," Althalos droned on, "and I want my dogs trained alone. Your precious King's filthy mutts don't deserve to be in the same company." Merlin ignored him.

But holding back his magic was almost painful.

Of course Arthur appreciated him. This stinky slob knew nothing.

But… Arthur had never said that, had he?

Maybe he would appreciate having a better servant….

LATER THAT DAY

Merlin stood quietly in the corner of Arthur's chambers, holding yet another jug of wine that he would never get a drop of. The King was having his dinner with Lord Althalos, as the man had insisted that Arthur "should have proper company" as he ate.

Somehow, their conversation had turned to servitude and its benefits, and Arthur seemed almost… enthralled by the slimy man's words.

Merlin would have left the room to vomit in peace, but that would tarnish his reputation as a servant, so he held it in and stood there impassively.

"Servants should respect their betters, don't you think?" Althalos was asking, leaning forwards conspiratorially on the table.

"Yes, I definitely agree, Lord Althalos—"

"Please, just Althalos is fine," the Lord said with a yellow smile.

Arthur replied with a smile of his own. "Althalos. Yes, you're right. Many of these servants are just too…."

"Negligent?" he offered. "Lazy?" He sneaked a glance at Merlin. "Insolent?"

"Yes!"

Merlin couldn't listen any more. He blocked out all the words he heard.

If Arthur wanted a cold, indifferent, efficient servant, then he'd get one.

PRESENT

"You told Lord Althalos that you wanted a better servant—"

"That old swine? Merlin, don't tell me you actually took my words seriously. You know that I have to agree with everything these types of people say, or they won't accept me as their King." Arthur was incredulous. Had Merlin really believed everything he'd heard?

Merlin flushed slightly pink. "Well… I didn't—"

"Oh, for God's sake." Arthur leaned out of his chair, enveloping his friend in a hug. Merlin was too surprised to do anything. Why was Arthur hugging him? The King was definitely not one to outwardly show affection, unless you were his wife. And Merlin was not his wife.

"… Arthur?"

"You're an idiot."

"Do you prefer it that way?"

"Yes."

"… Okay."

"Oh." Arthur sounded surprised. "That was easy."

"Er… yeah. Are you… done hugging me?"

"Right." Arthur hastily pulled away, clearing his throat and smoothing down his clothes. "Well. You're very… bony."

"Thank you. And you are a prat."

Arthur beamed. "Thank you."

"So can I call you a prat more often now, since you enjoy it so much?"

"No. Now go train my dogs."

"I did that yesterday."

Arthur was taken aback. "I didn't tell you to do that…."

The servant let out a dimpled grin. "I'm not as useless as you take me for." And with that, he practically skipped out the door.

Arthur waited for a beat.

"Merlin—"

"I know, I know," he muttered, hurrying back into the room and picking up the discarded laundry. "Don't say anything."

Arthur sighed. "Idiot."

"Prat," came the immediate answer, already echoing from the hall.

Arthur grinned, leaning back in his chair. "That's better."

OKAY LET'S JUST PRETEND ARTHUR'S DOGS ONLY NEED TO BE TRAINED EVERY FEW DAYS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT DOGS PLEASE DON'T SHOOT ME.

Okay. That's done.
So, do any of you care to read some random unfinished things? I have a sequel to Like Dominoes (me? Leave you alone at a deathfic? Pffft naw.)

I hope you liked Althalos.
I've half a mind to make Merlin beat him up or shave his head or something. He may already be bald.
I don't know. I just really want lil' ol' Althie to get revenge-uponed.

Please review! o3o