Chapter 6

The fact that his night out had been ruined didn't mean that Arthur was ready to call it a night – there was still something in him that needed to be silenced, and nothing did it quite as well as a good shag. He sat by his computer, quickly logging into his favorite chat. It didn't take him long to find some good strangers wanting to "talk", and Arthur was more than fine with giving them a chance.

It took him a few tries until he found someone that was both attractive enough and close enough for the night, but as soon as he saw the picture loaded he knew he wouldn't regret it – and not only because he claimed to be a GoodFuck in his nick, but also because he was gorgeous. He gave GoodFuck his address and soon had his answer.

He didn't need to set up much for that kind of meeting, but still he liked to take a good shower and make sure that he had drinks ready. It did take a few minutes to get his hair into his favorite look – thoroughly shagged look – but it was nothing as fancy as some of his friends did (Lance had kept a long hair for a while and Arthur was absolutely sure that he blow dried it into perfection, even if he never admitted it. Maybe he had changed to a short haircut because of the teasing he got from Arthur for it).

Some twenty minutes later, he heard a ring on his intercom and buzzed it open immediately. Arthur opened the door and stood lazily as the elevator came up; his best charming smile on his face and his chest completely naked.

He was surprised to find himself facing Mordred.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, before shaking his head. "You know what, I don't care, you can't stay."

"I just wanted to… talk" said the boy, looking upset.

"Mordred, no. There will be no talking, no feeling and no late night phone calls about love. You can't just show up like that."

"You let me in" there was hurt in his voice, but Arthur couldn't care less.

"I thought you were someone else – I'm expecting someone else."

That seemed to have the effect of making the kid realize that he was completely out of line, but still he stood there.

"I just want to…" but he never managed to finish the sentence, for someone had just arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

"Fuck" cursed Arthur, glaring at Mordred.

"The neighbor was coming out – she let me in" said the man, and he was even more good looking than in the picture – a charming square jaw sporting a light and fair stub, dark green eyes, a head taller than Arthur and more muscles than it was legal. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, he was leaving" answered Arthur, scowling. "There you go."

His night shag had just arrived to the floor, and was looking at them with some confusion on his face.

"Is it a three way? I don't care if it is a three way."

"No" said Arthur, and then he paused and looked at Mordred. "Is it?" Remembering just how insane the boy was with just one shag, he made up his mind. "No."

"Ok – he is a bit young" he said, smiling lightly.

"You go, Mordred."

"Who is this?" blurted the kid, wide-eyed.

"Mordred, this is GoodFuck" introduced Arthur, smiling pleasantly.

"My name is Percival – Percy." The guy seemed somewhat abashed about being called by his dirty internet nickname.

"Percival GoodFuck" corrected Arthur. Mordred seemed to be having a hard time in understanding he was supposed to just disappear.

"You…" he started, but Arthur didn't have the patience to it anymore.

"Have already told you to leave and didn't invite you here in the first place. You can see yourself out."

Mordred looked hurt, but at least he did turn his back and walked inside the elevator. Percival just stood there, looking somewhat concerned.

"I'm sorry about that – he is my stalker" explained Arthur.

"So what is he going to do? Walk home?" he wondered out loud. Arthur shrugged.

"He shouldn't have come in the first place – I'm sure he was properly put in a cab and sent home."

"He's in love" smiled Percival, teasing. "You are too alluring."

"You have no idea" Arthur walked towards the other man, smiling and ready to show him just why he found himself as the center of unwanted attention.

"I'm sure I'll find out – but are you letting him leave alone at this time of the night? He's just a kid."

Arthur's shoulders dropped and he knew he wasn't going to get any sort of peace if he didn't make sure that Mordred arrived home safely.

"Fine" he spat, picking up his shirt nearby. "There's porn on the shelf under the telly and whisky on the fridge. I'll be right back" he said, and started to go downstairs before he shouted back "And don't you steal anything!"

Of course, if he were going to be robbed, there was little he could do to hold a guy like Percival; who didn't seem that sort of person anyway. He ran down the stairs, and found Mordred walking, almost in the corner.

"Hey!" he said, and the boy didn't turn. "Mordred!" he yelled, again, and although he didn't look back, Arthur saw his shoulders tense.

Arthur jogged for a few steps and caught him through the shoulder.

"Do you mind?" he asked, turning the boy around. "I just left my flat in the hands of GoodFuck the stranger because of you."

"And?" asked Mordred, petulantly. Arthur cuffed him on the head as he called the cab company and told them to go and pick the boy up.

"You don't even know him!" he burst, finally. "He's no one! He doesn't even know you! He's… Ugly!"

Arthur merely raised an eyebrow at that, and Mordred flushed quickly, dropping his anger.

"He's not ugly…" he gave in, sadly. "He's hot, but… He just… I was there all night, and I really liked you."

"You are just a little boy" said Arthur, patiently. "What do you think you know about me?"

Mordred smirked, walking closer to him.

"I know that you like to be rimmed – I know how you like when I move my hips to the sides. I know…"

Arthur was smiling at him, because all those things were true, but they were also part of the problem. He didn't even try to hide his condescendence before he spoke.

"Mordred… I had you"

That made the boy stop and look at him, and Arthur could see he was finally starting to understand how it worked.

"So… That's it?"

Arthur took a deep breath, smiling at him.

"Yes. Why… Why do you think we all go to Albion Street, day after day? Do you think it is because we are pathetic and have nothing else to do – no place to go but empty flats?" He shook his head. "We could have – we could. But there's always someone else, someone new, someone better and fresh and ready to make you try things you never imagined – there's always someone."

"And I have already been the someone" said Mordred, nodding. "I see."

"And you were good – and I loved you then, but now, what I want is something else. You don't want me – you want to be me. You could pull by the dozens, but you are too worried with fairy tales – let me tell you something, Mordred: there are a lot of fairies in Albion Street, and none of them want to be your married-two-kids-and-white-fenced-house happily ever after. Leave your silly heterosexual girl notions behind and you might even have the time of your life."

The cab pulled in before Mordred could reply to any of that, and Arthur opened the door for him. He could see the hurt in the boy's face, but he had been honest, and there was nothing more he could do.

He walked up, trying not to think about what Mordred had said, but it was easier said than done – only to find that Percival was completely naked and lying on his belly on the bed. Arthur didn't know what to say as he looked at him.

"I thought it would be a good idea to get ready" said the man with a smile.

"Yeah, maybe another time" said Arthur, no longer in the mood – there was nothing that could fix the terrible day he had.

Percival looked hurt – but Arthur was used to it – and started to pick up his clothes, visibly annoyed but not saying anything.

But as he bend down to put his sneakers back on, giving Arthur a spectacular view of his rear, it made him think again.

Maybe the night could be saved after all.

Percy didn't even see him until he was tackled to the ground.


The hardest part of Arthur having bad days was that it made him have mad ideas that Merlin always knew he was going to regret – either soon enough, as it was the case with Mordred, or a few weeks later – and this was certainly the second case. He tried not to think much about it as he and Lance stood in the airport.

"I've been wanting to introduce you two for ages. You are going to love him – he's really fun, and has been single for ages. He's dying for a boyfriend. Just… Ignore the voice – and the loudness. Oh, and don't let him get drunk – and if he does get drunk, run for the hills!"

Lance chuckled, and it didn't take long for them to spot who they were looking for, although they were spotted first by three men – although they had been expecting only two.

"MERLIN!" Roared his friend, getting him into a tight hug. "I have missed you!"

Merlin was sure that the whole airport had heard it, take you very much, but he was used to it and he had missed him too, so he allowed the grin to take full hold of his face.

"Gwaine, this is Lance – Lance, this is Gwaine and Leon."

"Nice handbag!" teased Gwaine, pointing down to where little Gwydion was napping on his car chair.

"Oh, it's a little Arthur" said Leon, beaming for a moment, before something made his face shift. "I bet I'm sterile."

Gwaine rolled his eyes.

"Does it matter? Are you thinking about getting a girlfriend?"

"God, no!" said Leon, seemed disgusted with the idea.

"So…" Gwaine shrugged, and Merlin pulled his friend closer.

"Lance – I have told you about him, he's the one that met David Beckham."

Gwaine seemed more confused than anything by the statement, and Lance was smiling pleasantly at both men.

"Nice. You, come here" said Gwaine, manhandling the third man, a gorgeous Asian type that seemed to have been on the beach for a healthy period of time. "This is Lee – my new boyfriend!"

The guy did say something in return, seeming a bit annoyed, but it was some sort of oriental language if his looks were to be trusted.

"He's gorgeous, shags like a rabbit and can't understand a word I say!" Gwaine confided in them, beaming. "He's really perfect. I met him in a club."

"Really? Which club?" asked Lance, politely.

"Mile High" answered Gwaine, cheekily and walked away as someone who expects to be followed.

He was not disappointed.


Merlin hadn't dropped the rest of them in Arthur's place for five minutes when his cellphone began to ring. He didn't even need to look or to hear the ringtone to know it was Arthur – and he didn't need to answer to know he was regretting the moment he had called and asked Leon and Gwaine to come see them.

"What is it?" he asked instead of hello.

"I don't have any vodka" whined Arthur on the other side, and Merlin chuckled.

"On the bottom of the fridge there's a drawer – there are three bottles inside, including a whole vodka."

"How do you even know that?" muttered Arthur, clearly looking it up. "We'll also need something to eat!"

"There are crackers on the top shelf of the corner cabinet" reminded Merlin, sighing.

"Come and pick them up, I don't like them – take them to you place" complained Arthur through the loud noises on the other side.

"Arthur" warned Merlin, tiredly. "You asked them to come."

"You should have stopped me!"

"And my house is really tiny, there's no way I can fit them there" Merlin went on, tiredly.

"At least bring us some tequila."

Merlin laughed.

"I'm taking Gwydeon to our dear lesbians" he said, looking at the baby on the rear mirror (he was blissfully asleep). "I'm going to take a while."

"I'm so fucked" moaned Arthur, and Merlin turned off as he was turning on Elena and Morgause's street.

None of them seemed to be surprised to see him there.

"Hey Merlin" chirped Elena, picking Gwydion from his arms. "How was it?"

"Just fine" assured Merlin, picking up from Arthur's car the large bag that had Gwydion stuff. "He slept when we got to the car, and he didn't cry during the night."

"Lucky you" she said, picking up the bag. "He's been having cramps!"

"Not last night" he announced in a sing-song voice, and smiled at Morgause, who shook her head.

"You used magic" she accused as Elena walked back inside.

"Just a little bit" confessed the man, smiling.

"Not a little bit – I know for a fact you'd have to keep him in your arms all night for it to work; Morgana talked me through it".

There was murder in Morgause's eyes, and Merlin was a bit at loss at what it was about.

"He dropped him with you – did he even spend any time with his own son?"

Merlin frowned, trying to find the right words.

"I'm not Morgana, I can do a lot of things she can't" Merlin gloated, and Morgause didn't seem to be any less infuriated.

"Don't deflect – he left Gwydion at your place and went out clubbing, didn't he?"

"I slept over, Morgause" he said, finally, tired. "We stayed in and watched tv."

"You and Arthur or you and Gwydion?" she asked, point blank, and the seconds that took Merlin to reply were enough for her to take her conclusions. "You're more of a father than he is."

Merlin took a deep breath, struggling not to argue with her – it was pointless. Anything he said she'd disregard as him trying to protect his friend, and everything he ididn't/i say was going to weight on his back for ages. In the end, he settled for not saying a word about Arthur.

"You accepted that – you were on board. You knew him well enough and you accepted it. You don't get to complain now."

Without allowing her the time to reply, he walked back into the car and drove off.

He was the one who was going to need tequila after all.


It was a crappy Saturday afternoon, and Mordred didn't know what to do anymore – he had spent the last five weeks hiding in his house, but it didn't seem to make much of difference to his feelings that insisted in taking hold of him.

He was home alone when the doorbell rang and he found Freya at the door.

"It's been going on long enough" she said, her hands on her hips. "Spill."

"There's nothing…" he begun, tiredly, but she shook her head.

"I'm not stupid, Mordred." She said and she looked threatening. "Come on – let's go and get ourselves some ice cream."

"It's not even warm" he complained, closing the door behind him.

"Yeah, but I have the feeling you'll need it" was her answer, with a soft smile.

From all the things he could complain about being awful in his world, Freya certainly wasn't one of them. She didn't press him to talk as they walked to the parlor, and didn't let him pay for his own ice cream. Only when they were sitting in the park, deserts almost finished, she said something again.

"So, what happened?"

Mordred shook his head, at a loss for words.

"He dumped me – Arthur – and he laughed at my face. He doesn't… I don't know."

Freya creased her brow, looking at him.

"Oh, don't be like that. When my boyfriend dumped me, I didn't mop around, I moved straight to the next one" she said, confident.

"What boyfriend?" was all Modred could ask – they had lived across the street from each other for their whole lives and he had never seen her dating.

"Oh, it was in kindergarten" she said, laughing, and he couldn't help joining her. "Anyway, the point stands."

"It's not that easy…" he started, but Freya wasn't easily convinced.

"Albion Street – it's like, a whole world. You are good looking and you'll find yourself someone in no time, you'll see."

"I can't go there" complained Mordred, his voice strangled. "Arthur will be there – he'll be laughing…"

"Tell him to sod off" she said, as if it was as simple as that. "Would they let me in?"

"Why, yes!" said Mordred, confused. "Why wouldn't…"

"So, it is settled: I'm going with you. Tonight – we're hitting the streets, my friend, and we'll find you a good match."

And when Freya was as excited as that, it was hard to disagree – and impossible to contradict, so, there was nothing for him to do but to accept it and obey.