The third day, Arthur applies for a real job. It involves wearing a suit and meeting with an important man who runs a newspaper. He wants to see Arthur's credentials.

"I don't have any, sir," says Arthur honestly. "Until a few months ago, I believed partying and drinking was the most important thing I could do, as I was entirely dependent on my trust fund. As it is, sir, I can promise you I will work hard and I am a fast learner. I will do any job you ask – even if I'm just a coffee fetcher, I can do that."

He doesn't get the job, but he feels better anyway. He's got interviews lined up for the next week. He's going to get a proper job.

When he comes back to his flat, Merlin is sitting in one of their lawn chairs.

"Fuck," breathes Arthur out of surprise – it's like Merlin's a ghost that's just showed up.

"Er, hi," says Merlin lamely, and Arthur's skin feels like it's trying to strangle him.

"Hi," says Arthur faintly. "What – I thought you were gone."

"Yeah," says Merlin, rubbing the back of his neck. "I kind of thought so, too."

Arthur sits down on the chair opposite him, putting his briefcase next to him. "So what made you come back?" he asks, not sure he wants to hear the answer.

Merlin doesn't give one. "I just—I found what I was looking for."

Arthur nods like this tells him anything. "I quit my job," he tells Merlin. "I'm applying for real ones. For newspapers, accounting firms, anywhere with a spare cubicle that will take me."

Merlin smiles faintly. "Good for you."

There's an awkward pause.

"So—what did you do?" ask Arthur, his voice sounding foreign even to him.

"I went home," says Merlin, and Arthur snaps his eyes onto Merlin's. He doesn't see anything. Merlin takes a deep breath, swallows. "See, what you said at the restaurant was true. I was avoiding going home, and I needed to, and you helped me." He looks at Arthur. Voice wavering, he commands, "Ask me what you did at the restaurant."

"Merlin—"

"Ask me."

Arthur doesn't tear his eyes away from Merlin. "What happened that made you leave home?"

"Will," he says, as if he's had this response planned for days. (He has.) "Will's the reason I left. One day after school, he cornered me and told me he was gay and that he was in love with me and then he kissed me. And it turns out his mother saw and told my mother, and she didn't care but everyone in the town started treating me like I had a disease, like Will and I were going to start fucking in public and like we were ill or something, and I couldn't take it." Arthur is gazing at him intently, sadly. Merlin keeps going, words finding their way out of his mouth, tumbling faster and faster. "I've always been weird, Arthur," he says. "I've never fit in, and then me and Will – that just settled it. No one spoke to me, or if they did, it was like I was something in a museum, and I knew I had to get away from the fucking small-mindedness of the village, had to move somewhere where no one knew me. It broke Will's heart, but he never realized I didn't—I didn't care for him the way he did me. He was just the catalyst for something bigger. And I never wanted to go home ever again, but I had to, because I had to see Will and had to see my mother and all the fucking people who made my life miserable. 'Look at the poof,' some of the kids used to say." He swallows. "So I went to Will and told him that I love him but I don't, and that what he wanted, he would never have. That I can't be the person he wants me to be. And I told my mother, finally, out loud, that I was gay." He laughs, his eyes looking watery. "I'd never even told her before."

He looks at Arthur. "That's why I left home. Because I'm a giant fucking poof, and I was always afraid to admit it until now."

Arthur looks at him, crying in his chair, and he stands. His legs are moving for him, he doesn't even have time to think about what he's doing when he pulls Merlin up by the shirt and kisses him firmly on the lips. He's got two fistfuls of Merlin's shirt, and Merlin's hands are clutching at his back. Merlin doesn't do anything but kiss him back, still clawing at his back, and suddenly Arthur breaks away, tearing off Merlin's shirt. Fuck, he's so skinny. Arthur smiles, pulls off his own shirt, going back in to kiss Merlin, who is looking bewildered and happy and scared.

"Arthur—wait," he says, and something about the way he says it makes Arthur stop, even though he'd very much like to get back to tearing off Merlin's hideous clothing. "Why did you quit your job?"

Arthur smiles, and it feels new on his face, like he hadn't felt happy in forever. (Maybe he hadn't.) "I discovered that I didn't want myself to be happy. While you were in your shit village, I was sulking around here, and then I found out you were gay, and then I found out that I kept avoiding happiness by avoiding people, and then just now I found out that maybe I'm a little bit of a poof too, because I want to kiss you right now, and because everything you do drives me up the wall but I don't care, because if you ever leave again, I'll drown myself in the Thames." He's laughing and maybe crying, but it doesn't matter, because Merlin is listening raptly. "You have horrible taste in clothing and decoration and everything, but every morning I wake up kind of glad to see your fucking skinny body over on that mattress over there. I hate the way you cook and make coffee and you're just a moron, you know that? You're so stupid. You're so, so stupid, Merlin. You make absolutely no sense and people everyone loves you and maybe I do, too, because at least I understand it now – the only reason I ever didn't like you was because I was afraid of getting to know you, because I was afraid of happiness." He takes a breath, laughing shakily. "But I'm not anymore. That's what I discovered while you were confronting your past. I'm not scared of being happy anymore." His arms are shaking – he's shaking all over, actually, but he needs to keep going for just a minute longer. "I moved into this flat because I crashed my car into a bank." He laughs, thinking about how weird that sounds. Merlin smiles weakly. "I used to be into partying," Arthur explains. "I used drink until I couldn't stand or see, drop acid, shoot up, whatever. I used to fuck around, I used to do all this shit until one day I was drunk and high and I drove into the side of the bank. I could've killed someone. I could've killed Sophie – she was my girlfriend at the time, she was in the car. And my father cut me off. He told me that I had to get out in less than a week, or he was disinheriting me. And so here I am. I never understood what was wrong, Merlin. I always thought bad things happened to me. Until now, I never figured out how fucking dumb I was. But I was. And I am. I'm a fucking idiot. I couldn't even see what was in front of me until right now."

Merlin is crying, the tears slipping down his cheeks.

Arthur approaches him, kissing him again. "I'm a fucking idiot for you, Merlin Emrys," he says into Merlin's neck. "I'm complete shit at everything, but I'm mad for you."

"I love you," says Merlin impulsively, and Arthur kisses him, flashing him a smile that makes his knees weak.

"I know."

Neither can get to the other fast enough.