Requested (rather randomly) by a friend. I apologise for any errors, This was written in like, less than an hour and I need to go to bed. Shall edit tomorrow.
Enjoy!
Team Valor, Obviously
Mordred was the first to get it. Morgana found him with his eyes pinned to a technicolour screen, leaning on the lamppost outside their frequented coffee shop. Arthur approached just as Mordred caught a Caterpie, and watched as Morgana scoffed and shoved the boy's beanie over his eyes.
"You complete and utter dweeb," she jibed, snatching his phone from him. "Weren't you supposed to grow out of Pokémon when you were, I dunno, six?"
Mordred scowled, reaching for the device and tripping over his own laces as Morgana held it out of reach. "Give it back."
"Morgana," Arthur warned, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tease the poor sod." The blonde plucked the phone from his sister's hand, squinting at the screen. "Huh. Only a Caterpie."
"Oh God. You're both dweebs."
Merlin, who'd sidled up unnoticed, leapt over to the lamppost and grinned. "Surely you knew that by now, Morgana?" She rolled her eyes, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "Isn't it too chilly to be standing outside the coffee shop?"
Mordred swiped his phone back and stared at the screen. "There's a Voltorb the street over."
"Oh for Christ's sake!" Morgana grabbed Mordred's arm and yanked him violently into the shop. "Your bloody Pokémon can wait until after I've had some damn coffee."
A few minutes later, Gwen flew into the shop, curly hair flyaway in the spring winds. She hurried over to Morgana and slapped a kiss onto her cheek before falling unceremoniously into the seat beside Merlin, who clutched his tea in both hands. Arthur sat across from him, drumming his fingers on the ceramic surface, and Morgana was between her brother and Mordred, stewing much like the cafetiere she'd ordered.
"Arthur, what have you done this time?"
The blonde gaped, head turning from Morgana back to Gwen, expression positively scandalised. "Why do you think I've annoyed her?"
Merlin snorted. "You perpetually annoy her, mate." He reconsidered, head tilted to the side. "I think you annoy most people."
"You're supposed to defend me –" He's interrupted by the barista, who sets the rest of their cups on the table with a clatter. Merlin hides his smile in his drink, scarf curled around his ears. The woman is barely a metre away before Arthur leans over the table with a serious expression. "It's Mordred." He jabs an accusing finger. "Him and his Weedle."
Merlin snorts. "That sounds wrong –"
"It's not Pokémon Go, is it Mordred?" The boy looks up, nodding. "Oh my. Everyone's obsessed with that at work."
Arthur's eyes narrow. "Everyone?"
Gwen smiled. "Yes, it's become quite a trend." She sipped the latte Morgana had kindly paid for, engagement ring clinking on the edge of the glass.
So, naturally, Gwen was the next to get it. She didn't understand much about Pokémon, and spent most her time out frowning at her phone, so Morgana, who had watched it as a child with Arthur, downloaded the app to 'help her out'. Within days she was a level thirteen, in team Mystic, and boasting about the Magnemites she'd found along the coast.
"You're rather behind," she told Arthur, smirking down at his phone on the sofa in his flat. "I heard Merlin downloaded it last night."
"I know," the blonde growled, stapling some papers aggressively. "It keeps failing to download."
"Aha!" Morgana laughed, swinging her legs up onto the cushions. "You've caught the bug too."
"They're the best Pokémon type, you know."
Morgana sighed. "Merlin kept going on about how cute his Kakuna is this morning."
"You saw him?"
"I went to pick up my sleeping pills from Gaius." The brunette tucked her knees under her chin. "Merlin's going to be a great nurse."
"Only because he's such a girl."
"I know you like him," Morgana stated suddenly, staring knowingly at her brother. Arthur's fingers stilled over his paperwork, face emotionless. "You could always tell him."
He resumed his filing, jaw set into a hard line. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Arthur –"
"We've known each other since we were eleven, it's only natural I have a soft spot for him." Morgana's mouth twists in sympathy. "What?"
"You know it's more than that."
Arthur's shoulders slump in defeat. "And so what if I do?"
"Tell him, brother mine."
The blonde places a finger on his lips, distant. He'd always associated his feelings for Merlin with their strong and somewhat intimate friendship, but he can pinpoint the exact moment he realised it was more than that. It was Merlin's twenty-first; they were in their third year of university, and everyone around him was swimming in alcohol and hormones, intoxicated by the warm bodies and bright lights. Despite the pictures strung up that were clearly of Merlin, and the ridiculously large cake made in Merlin's favourite flavour (carrot and walnut, because he was an odd git like that), Arthur had found his friend outside, air spilling from his lips like the smoke from a dragon's nostrils. He crouched loosely in the chill, thick blue jumper pooling over his knees, hair ruffled by the fun and excitement. Arthur had watched as Merlin cooed to a cat, letting it nuzzle its nose into the palm of his hand.
It was then that Arthur knew that Merlin was a whole lot more than a friend.
"It wouldn't make any difference," Arthur sighed, dropping some paper in the recycling. "It's clearly unrequited."
"But –"
"Leave it." Arthur closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. "Just – just get back to your Pokémon Go."
A week later, Arthur was fuming. Nearly every conversation his friends had was centred around this stupid app – even his football team, even Percival was nicknaming Pidgeys and Magikarps, fingertips grazing over them like precious artefacts.
The final straw had been when Uther had called him – his own father – to ask whether Team Instinct was more advantageous than Valor.
I mean, clearly, Team Valor is the best of all three. If he had the app, he could show those Mystics what he meant.
Of course, that was impossible, because of the bloody iOS update.
"It won't let me download it," Arthur growled across the table as he sat having coffee with Merlin. "I've tried everything."
The brunette drew his tea to his lips, thinking. "Have you tried setting up a new Apple account?"
Arthur stared. "I work in the tech department of my father's company, Merlin –"
"Right, yes." Merlin nodded quickly, blushing. "You've tried everything."
Arthur groaned. "Morgana's right," he said, running his hands over his face. "I'm so behind. It's practically a craze by now."
"Well –" Merlin pulled out his own phone, jacket sleeves slipping away from his hands and down onto his wrist. Arthur's eyes flicked to the plain black tattoo etched there. "If I log out of mine, you can make your account and just use mine whenever we see each other."
Arthur blinked as he offered the phone, outstretched hand pale and wavering. "What?"
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Just take it, you clotpole." The blonde laughed shortly, the bark echoing around their corner. And that's how Arthur came to create a trainer called 'Pratdragon,' under Merlin's careful supervision.
"What team are you?"
Merlin sat down next to Arthur, looking over at his phone. The blonde had finally breached level five, and his finger hovered over Spark and Candela. "I'm team Mystic. Who are you going to pick?"
Arthur scoffed. "Team Valor, obviously." He swiftly brushed past Blanche, selecting the red silhouette. "Seriously? Team Mystic?"
"So what?"
"You're on the same team as Morgana!" Arthur turned to face Merlin, briefly shocked by the proximity of his lips. "You joined the dark side."
Merlin's eyes twinkled. "The dark side, huh?"
"You should be ashamed."
"Ah, there are many things I'm ashamed of, Arthur."
The blonde grinned, his shoulder relaxing and slipping onto Merlin's. "Really? Like what?"
"Like my ridiculously stupid crush on you."
Arthur froze. Merlin, whose cheeks were now painted a bright red, sank further into his scarf, wary of the physical tension trapped in Arthur's shoulder blades. "Ah, I'm sorry. That was dumb –"
Then Arthur kissed him.
And in the opposite corner of the coffee shop, a Weedle watched on.
