Howdy... Again :)

So, I thought, while living and all... that I'd start a Fanfiction based on many aspects... Mainly my life :P Because I'm that cool... But I'll include songs as well, for titles. So I disclaim owning them, and Merlin, unfortunately. Okay, some of the text in this is from the book 'One Day' but I have adapted a little into my own, so no suing ;P

The Story Of Us

Chapter 3 – Mine

Saturday 27th September 2003

Gwaine was in the doorway. 'That guy's here again.'

'What guy?'

'Your friend, the handsome one. He's got some girl with him.' And immediately Merlin knew which guy Gwaine was talking about.

He watched them from the kitchen, nose pressed against the greasy glass of the circular window as they slumped insolently in a central booth, sipping gaudy drinks and laughing at the menu. The girl, was long and slim with pale skin, green eye make-up and blonde, blonde, probably extensions, waving down her back. Her long legs were only half covered by a beige summer skirt with poppies as the decoration with what looked like six-inch heels. Both a little drunk, they were behaving in that self-consciously wild and reckless way that people slip into when they know they're being watched: pop-video behaviour, and Merlin thought how satisfying it would be to stride out onto the restaurant floor and beat them both with tightly packed sandwiches-of-the-day.

Damn this Café.

Two big hands draped on his shoulders 'Boo' said Gwaine dully amused, resting his chin on his head. 'Who is she?'

'Sophia, I think.' Merlin spat quietly like venom. He rubbed at the mark his nose hand made on the window. 'But by next month it will be some other girl.'

'That's a bit harsh, thought he liked this one.'

'Arthur has a very short attention span. Like a baby. Or a monkey. You need to dangle something shiny in front of him.' That's what Vivian was after all, Merlin thought: something shiny, Arthur had made that perfectly clear yesterday.

'So do you think it's true what they say? About girls liking bastards.'

'He's not a bastard. He's a prat.'

'Do girls like prats then?'

Arthur had stuck a cocktail umbrella behind his ear now, Vivian collapsing into enchanted laughter at the genius of it.

'... Certainly seems that way.' Merlin whispered, more to himself. What was it, he wondered, this need to brandish his shiny high rich life at him? As soon as Merlin met him at the arrivals gate on his return from the sudden long weekend in Thailand, strong-muscled and tanned and clean haircut, Merlin knew for sure that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to Arthur, too little had happened to Merlin. Even so, was it really necessary to bring the shiny something to the Café where Merlin worked? Was it some sort of sick revenge for something? Was it because Merlin had tried to help on personal, private matters? Was it because Merlin couldn't go to Thailand that Friday, when Arthur had asked him on the field after school?

Didn't Arthur know what this was doing to him, sat at table nine with their groins in each other's faces?

'Can't you go, Gwaine? It's your section.' Merlin exclaimed somewhat desperately.

'He asked for you.'

Merlin sighed, wiped his hands on the apron, removed the stupid cap from his head to minimise the shame and pushed the swing door open.

'So – do you want to hear the specials or what?'

Arthur stood up quickly; untangling himself from the girl's long limbs, and threw his arms around his old, old friend. 'Hey there, how are you, Em? Big Hug!' Merlin braced himself for Arthur's heavy arms to squeeze his tightly, crushing his heart in the process.

'Merlin, this –' He placed one hand on the girl's bare, bony shoulder, forming a chain between them. 'This is Sophia, pronounced So-fee-a'

'Hello, So-fee-a,' smiled Merlin. Sophia smiled back, the drinking straw nipped tight between white teeth.

'Hey, come and join us for a coffee, or a margarita!' Boozy from maybe a party last night and sentimental, he tugged on Merlin's hand.

'Can't, Arty, I'm working.'

'Come on, five minutes. Pleeeeeeease?' Puppy eyes were used and Arthur dramatically jutted out his bottom lip.

Gwaine joined them now, his notebook poised. 'So shall I get you guys something to eat?' he asked convivially.

The girl wrinkled her nose. 'I don't think so!'

'Arthur, you've met Gwaine, haven't you?' said Merlin quickly.

'No, no, I haven't,' said Arthur. 'Yes, several times,' said Gwaine.

There was a moment of silence as they stood there: the staff and the customers.

'So, Gwaine, can we get two, no, three of the "Irish Coffees". Two or three? Em, are you joining us?'

'Arthur, I told you. I'm working.'

A look of victimised pain passed his eyes and Merlin started to worry if that was harsher than he intended.

'Okay, in that case, do you know what? We'll leave it then. Just the bill, please, um...' Gwaine left and Arthur beckoned to Merlin and in a low voice said, 'Hey, look, is there any way I can, you know...'

'What?'

'Give you the money for the drinks.'

Merlin stared blankly. 'I don't understand.'

'What I mean is, is there any way I can, you know, tip you? You personally?'

Merlin wasn't sure whether to be touched or offended. 'Tip me?'

'Exactly. Tip you.' Arthur looked hopefully, a childish gleam of happiness in his hazy eyes.

'Why?' Merlin breathed quite quietly and he wasn't sure whether it was from sadness or sentiment.

'No reason, Em,' said Arty. 'I just really, really want to tip you,' and Merlin felt another piece of his soul fall away. He was, in that moment, reminded how he had almost finished college, working part-time waiting tables; a flight-risk, with a fear of falling, wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts, if it hurts.

...

On a hill that looked a lot like Box Hill by the River Derwent, Arthur slept in the evening sun, lilac beige shirt unbuttoned, hands beneath his head, a half-empty bottle of grocer's white wine warming by his side as he slipped from the hangover of the afternoon into drunkenness again. The parched yellow grass of the hill was crowded with young professional people, many straight from their offices, talking and laughing as three different stereos competed with each other, and Arthur lay in the centre of it all and dreamt of television. He thought about his future and it all seemed quite alright now. He'd finish college and might go on to university... he probably would have to if his father had anything to say about it, being a Duke's son and only son. He'd do some military work for a couple of years and might still do that while he trained to be a... photographer? TV Presenter? He liked the sound of both. Both could get him a date quickly and they both sounded quite fun. He was good at capturing the moment and he thought he was blessed with charisma. Everything would be alright; going his way.

Soothed by these thoughts, and on the verge of sleep, he was woken by a shadow across his face. He opened one eye, squinting up and couldn't help but think how they were in this exact position a couple of weeks ago on Friday, but in the reverse and on a field.

'Hello, sexy.'

Merlin kicked him sharply in the hip.

'Ow!' He wasn't expecting that!

'Don't you ever, ever do that again!'

'Do what?'

'You know what! Like I'm in a zoo, you poking me with a stick, laughing-'

'I wasn't laughing at you!' Where was this coming from? Yes, he was a little drunk, but wasn't every late eighteen year old?

'I watched you, sat straddling your girlfriend, chuckling away-'

'She isn't my girlfriend, and we were laughing at the menu-'

'You were laughing at where I work.'

'So? You do!'

'Yes, because I work there. I'm laughing in the face of adversity; you're laughing in my face!'

Wait, What? Is that how Merlin really saw it?

Arthur felt a sudden stab of ice cold guilt penetrate the seams of his heart.

'Em, I would never, ever-'

'That's what it feels like.'

'Well I apologise.'

Silence.

'Good.' Merlin folded his legs beneath him and sat next to Arthur.

'Now do your shirt up and pass me the bottle.'

Merlin still seemed pretty upset and Arthur needed to stop any doubts or hurt feelings right now.

'And she really isn't my girlfriend.' He fastened three low shirt buttons, making sure that his beautiful pecks were still showing and waited for Merlin to take the bait. When he didn't, Arthur prodded again. 'We're just sleeping together every now and then, that's all.'

As the possibility of a relationship had faded, Merlin had endeavoured to harden himself to Arthur's indifference and these days a remark like this caused no more pain than, say, a metal tennis ball thrown sharply at the back of his head. These days he barely even flinched. 'That's nice for you both, I'm sure.' He poured wine into a plastic cup. 'So if she's not your girlfriend, what do I call her?'

'I don't know. "Lover"?'

'Doesn't that imply affection and love?'

'How about "Conquest"?' He grinned, that was funny. 'Can I say "Conquest" these days?'

Tennis ball.

'Or "victim". I like "victim".' Merlin lay back suddenly and squeezed his fingers into the pockets of his jeans. 'You can take that back and all.' He tossed a tightly wadded twenty-pound note onto Arthur's chest.

'No way.'

'Yes way.'

'That's yours!'

'Arthur, listen to me. You don't tip friends.'

'It's not a tip, it's a gift.'

The air got thick then, and Merlin was touched by Arthur's intention.

'And cash is not a gift. If you want to buy me something, that's very nice, but not cash. It's embarrassing.'

Arthur sighed, defeated, and stuffed the money back into his pocket. 'I apologise. Again.' Arthur started sulking.

Maybe Merlin was being a bit too mean and apprehensive...

'Fine,' he said, and lay down beside him.

'Go on then. Tell me all about it.'

Grinning, Arthur raised himself up on his elbows. 'So Leon was having this party at the weekend-'

Party, Merlin thought. Has he become someone who goes to parties at the weekend?

'- and I'd seen her around so I went over to say hi, hello, welcome, very formal, hand outstretched, and she smiled up at me, winked, put her hand on the back of my head and pulled me towards her and she-' He lowered his voice to a thrilled whisper. '-kissed me, right?'

'Kissed you, right?' said Merlin, as another tennis ball struck home.

'-and slipped something into my mouth with her tongue. "What was that?" I said and she just winked and said, "You'll find out".'

A silence followed before Merlin said 'Was it a peanut?' Did you choke?

'No-'

'Little dry-roasted peanut-'

'No, it was a pill-'

'What like a tic-tac or something? For your bad breath?'

'I don't get bad-'

'Haven't you told me this story before anyway?'

'No, that was Vivian. Probably'

The tennis balls were coming thick and fast now, the odd cricket ball made of steel mixed in there too. Merlin stretched and concentrated on the sky. 'You've got to stop letting women slip drugs into your mouth, Arty, it's unhygienic. And dangerous. One day it'll be a cyanide capsule.'

Arthur laughed. 'So do you want to hear what happened next?'

Merlin placed a finger on his chin. 'Do I? Nope, I don't think so. No, I don't.'

But Arthur told him anyway, the usual narrative about dark backrooms at clubs and late-night phone-calls and taxis across the city at dawn; the endless, eat-as-much-as-you-can buffet that was turning into Arthur's sex life and Merlin made a conscious effort not to listen and just watch his mouth instead. It was a nice mouth, he thought: ready, kiss-worthy, red lips so full and delicious looking. If Merlin were fearless, bold and asymmetrical like that Sophia girl, he would lean over now and kiss Arthur, but it occurred to him that he had never kissed anyone, that is, never initiated the kiss. Merlin had been kissed of course, suddenly and far too hard by drunken guys and girls at the rare party, kisses that came swinging out of nowhere like sucker punches. Gwaine had tried three weeks ago; actually, while Merlin was mopping the Café floors, looming in so violently that they had head-butted before any lip contact... which Merlin was grateful for. Even Arthur had kissed him once, many, many years ago. Would it really be so strange to kiss him back? What might happen if he did it now? Take the initiative, hold onto his head while he's still talking and kiss him, kiss him deep and-

'- so Sophia calls at three in the morning, says, "Get in a cab. Right. Now."'

Merlin had a perfectly clear mental picture of Arthur wiping his mouth with the back of his hand: the kiss as custard-pie. He let his head loll to the other side to watch the others on the hill. Then evening light was starting to fade now, and two hundred prosperous, attractive young people were throwing Frisbees, lighting disposable barbecues, making plans for the evening. Yet Merlin felt as far removed from these people, with their interesting careers and MP3 players and mountain bikes, as if it had been a TV commercial, for vodka perhaps or small sporty cars.

He looked back to Arthur, still narrating his own sex life still, then over Arthur's shoulder at the young couple, kissing aggressively, the woman kneeling astride the man, his arms flung back in surrender, their fingers interlocked.

'... basically we were like cats in heat.'

'Sorry, I stopped listening a while ago.'

'I was just saying...'

'What do you think she sees in you?'

Arthur shrugged, as if he didn't understand the question. 'She says I'm complicated.'

'Complicated? You're like a three-piece jigsaw-' Merlin sat and brushed the grass from his shin. '- in thick ply,' then tugged the leg of his jeans a little higher.

Time to change the subject...

'Look at these legs.' Merlin indicated to the porcelain skin with a practically flawless complexion. 'There's hardly any meat on them.'

'So eat something, your bum's a bit bony too, nice shape though.'

Arthur was grinning but with a small glint of seriousness in his eyes.

'Arthur!'

'And anyway, you're got great legs.' He leant across and pinched Merlin's calves. 'You're gorgeous.'

Merlin, in panic or shock, knocked Arthur's elbow so that he fell back onto the grass. 'Can't believe you said my bum has nice shape.' Beyond him the couple were still kissing. 'Look at these two here – don't stare.' Arthur peered over his shoulder. 'I can actually hear them. Over this distance, I can hear the suction. Like someone unblocking a sink.' And maybe Merlin was actually a little jealous. 'I said don't stare!'

'Why not? It's a public place.'

'Why would you go to a public place to behave like that? It's like a nature documentary.'

'Maybe they're in love.'

'And is that what love looks like – all wet mouths and your shirt riding up?'

Arthur looked thoughtful.

'Sometimes it can be.'

'Looks like she's trying to fit his entire head into her mouth. She'll dislocate her jaw if she's not careful.'

A few moments passed... and Arthur was still staring.

'You know some people might think it's a bit weird, this obsession you've got with being in a constant state of intercourse, some people might think it's a bit sad and desperate...'

'Funny, I don't feel sad. Or desperate.'

Merlin, who did feel these things, said nothing. Arthur nudged him with his elbow. 'You know what we should do? You and I?'

Arthur had that devilish glint in eyes and he looked far too enthusiastic.

'What?' Merlin questioned cautiously.

Arthur grinned. 'We should kiss in public.'

Merlin wasn't quite sure if he'd heard Arthur quite right there. Did the man he loves really just suggest that they make out in front of all these people in the evening glow? Merlin's heart was caught between stopping completely and beating, hammering against his chest, as if it wanted to escape and jump down Arthur's throat.

Did Arthur want to? He was still grinning.

What?

'What?'

Arthur then lunged himself at Merlin, pushing him down onto the grass so he was atop his best friend, straddling his thighs with his own. Merlin couldn't think, didn't have time to, before Arthur had grabbed his wrists and flew them above his head...

Merlin was trapped in a prison of heat and Arthur. He felt Arthur's heart beating through his chest; it was almost steady, as if Arthur was trying to will it to stay at a regular beat. All Merlin could hear was the pumping of his blood as if he was underwater and Arthur's breath coming out damp and sweet across his lips. The heat from Arthur's body was pouring into Merlin's, as if he didn't know what heat was before this moment.

And all he could see was that very nice mouth, smiling down at him with affectionate eyes. Merlin's mouth was slightly parted, and his breathing was so erratic he was sure Arthur knew the effect he was having on him.

His heart and mind were screaming YES, YES, YES! But his mouth said quite the opposite.

'Arthur, I don't think-'

He was cut short when Arthur started nibbling his ear, sucking slightly at the lobe and Merlin could feel Arthur's smirk, and both stimulations made him so light-headed he forgot what breathing was.

'Stop, Arthur.'

He persisted.

'Arthur, stop, people will stare.' And Merlin then just realised the pain within his chest.

'Let them.' Arthur moved to his jaw, catching the skin between his teeth.

'You have... ugh... Sophia.' Why are you trying to stop this? Just let him do what he wants!

'I told you, she's not my girlfriend.' Arthur was too good at this and Merlin really hoped, really hoped that he couldn't feel his erection, full and blazing. Merlin truly, oh so truly hoped that Arthur couldn't feel his magic sparking and crackling under his skin, as if ready to burst through.

Despite the fact that this felt so good, that having Arthur suck his neck and kiss the forming love bites made his heart sing and melt at the same time... maybe the moment wasn't right or something, because Merlin was confused himself as to why his mouth replied with:

'Seriously, Arthur, get off me.'... He said it while smiling though.

How dare you mouth, I actually physically hate you.

Arthur looked into Merlin's eyes for one moment, searching maybe, his grin gone, as if he was concentrating on Merlin's breathing, then slide back onto his side.

Silence.

'Just thought it might be fun.' Arthur spoke half-heartedly some time later.

Merlin felt like he had not only knocked himself out and left his bloody body by the road, but as if he had betrayed Arthur somehow.

But the feelings were covered when Arthur moved things on, despite the unspoken emotions from before. Lying on his back staring at the sky, Merlin could feel Arthur looking at him.

'So. What about you?' he said, in what Merlin thought of as his psychiatrist voice. 'Any news? Any action? Love-life wise.'

'Oh you know me. I have no emotions. I'm a robot. Or a nun... A robot nun.'

'No you're not. You pretend to be, but you're not.'

'Oh, I don't mind. I quite like it, getting old alone-'

'You're almost nineteen, Em-'

'- I like my lonely contentment.'

Arthur wasn't sure if Merlin as actually telling him the truth, but nevertheless still felt a hungry twinge of arousal as Merlin breathed heavily. As Merlin talked, he pictured them on a very hot summer's day, naked in the sea maybe, or maybe just on the beach, a nudist beach. They'd be lying by the rocks so no-one could see. Arthur pictured a damp, smooth-skinned Merlin beneath him, begging to be filled, the emptiness after Arthur's heavy fingers driving him to the brink of human sanity. Arthur pictured a puffed, over-sensitive hole, red-rimmed and pulsating, almost wide open yet so, so tight as Arthur would gently and yet so forcefully slide in his huge, long, thick, hungry, throbbing cock and-

What the hell?

Arthur tackled himself to the ground and slapped himself senseless. What the hell was he thinking?

This kind of erotic reverie occupied great swathes of Arthur's mental energy, and he wondered if perhaps Merlin was right, perhaps he was a little too distracted by the sexual side of things. Surely it wasn't natural to feel as if he'd just got out of prison all the time around Merlin? Concentrate. Someone he cared for dearly was engaged in some kind of nervous collapse, and he should concentrate on that, rather than the three girls behind Merlin who had just started a water-fight...

Concentrate! Concentrate. He steered his thoughts away from the subject of sex, his brain as nimble as an aircraft carrier.

'How about that guy?' he said.

'What guy?' Merlin was thoroughly confused as to Arthur's flustered state.

'At work, the waiter. The annoying one.'

'Gwaine? What about him?'

Arthur paused for a bit.

'Why don't you go out with Gwaine?'

'Shut up, Arthur! No! Gwaine's just a friend. Now pass the bottle, will you?'

Merlin looked hurt and offended.

Arthur watched as Merlin sat and drank the wine, which had become warm and syrupy now. While not sentimental, there were times when Arthur could sit quietly and watch Merlin Emrys laughing or telling a story and feel absolutely sure that he was the finest person Arthur knew. Sometimes he almost wanted to say this out loud, interrupt him and just tell him. But this was not one of those times, and instead Arthur thought how tired Merlin looked, sad and more pale than usual. And he realised that he could see a nice display of now define collarbones upon his torso. He really should start eating more. And Arthur's mind made a map of Merlin's lean long body and all the graceful limbs that adorned it, however clumsy when he actually walked. He thought of how, in the evening twilight, Merlin actually looked, dare he say or even think it 'ethereally beautiful.' But Merlin worked in a Café part-time and clearly hated it. What Merlin really needed, Arthur thought, ablaze with compassion, was someone to take him in hand and unlock his potential. He imagined a sort of montage, looking patrician and kindly as Merlin tried a series of incredible new outfits. Yes, he really should pay Merlin more attention and he would do it too if he didn't have so much happening at present.

But in the short term, wasn't there something he could do to make him feel better about himself, lift his spirits, give his self-confidence a boost? He had an idea, and reached for Merlin's hand before announcing solemnly:

'You know, Em, if you're still single when you're forty... I'll marry you.'

Merlin, for the life of him, was wondering if he was ever going to get used to his heart and magic deciding to stop suddenly, surely it wasn't healthy...

And yet, despite the sincerity in Arthur's eyes... he was such a prat sometimes, Merlin thought.

Merlin looked at him with wounded disgust. 'Was that a proposal, Arty?'

'Not now, just at some point if we both get desperate.'

Dollop-head.

Merlin laughed bitterly. 'And what makes you think I'd want to marry you?'

'Well, I'm sort of taking that as a given.'

Clot-pole.

'So you'd me mine then?'

'Yes!'

Merlin shook his head slowly. 'Well you'll have to join the queue, I'm afraid. My friend Gwaine said the same thing to me while we were disinfecting the meat fridge. Except he only gave me until I was thirty-five.'

'Well no offence to Gwaine, but I think you should definitely hold out for the extra five years.'

'I'm not holding out for either of you! I'm never getting married anyway.'

'How do you know that?'

Merlin shrugged. 'Wise old gypsy lady told me.'

'I suppose you disagree on financial grounds or something.'

'Just... not for me, that's all.' Merlin felt tears building, a salty heat behind his eyes.

'I can see you now. Big bowtie and suit, bridesmaids, if you want, little page boys, messy damp hair...' Messy and Damp. His mind snagged on the words like a fish on a hook.

'As a matter of fact, I think there are more important things in life than "relationships".' His voice was a type of wet hoarse.

'Oh come on Merlin, don't be like that. We'd make a great couple, you and I. Arty and Em. Em and Arty. That's us. I'd have the looks and the strength; you'd have the brains and the magical wisdom-' Merlin flinched.

'- we could totally be in love and the sex would be so amazing and so-'

Merlin gave Arthur a look that resembled a victim begging their torturer to stop beating them... and Arthur felt so guilty, not knowing where he'd gone wrong.

They turned back to sky, shaded into night now and after a moment Merlin said, 'My career took a bit of an upturn today.'

'You got fired?'

'Promotion.' He started to laugh. 'I've been offered the job of manager when I'm out of college.'

Arthur sat up quickly. 'In that place? You've got to turn it down.'

'Why do I have to turn it down? Nothing wrong with restaurant work.'

'Em, you could be mining uranium with your teeth and that would be fine as long as you were happy. But you hate that job, you hate every single moment.'

'So? Most people hate their jobs. That's why they're called jobs.'

'You're only nearly nineteen, Em! You have your whole life ahead of you! Only one more year and you can do whatever you want.'

Merlin didn't know why, maybe he was still a bit hurt from the marriage thing, or maybe it was because Merlin thought his life would be so boring and pointless, but he started to sound hysterical.

'That's easy for you to say! You're a Duke's son and an Earl yourself! Technically, you don't even need a job because you're so fucking loaded. Unlike me, I have to work my arse off just to get a little. But you, not you; you can leave anytime you want. You can wake up one day and decide that no, I'm bored with education, and you can leave me and go live in your mansion with as many girls, mistresses or whatever the hell you want to call them and be all happy and just fine!'

Stop talking, calm down.

'Hey, I'm not like that, and I'd work, work in the media maybe-'

'I mean if people treated, I don't know, nursing or social work or teaching with the same respect as they do the bloody media-'

'So be a teacher then! You'd be a fantastic teacher-'

'I want you to write on the board, "I will not give my friend careers advice!"' He was talking too loud now, shouting almost and a long silence followed. Why was he being like this? Arthur was only trying help. In what way did Arthur benefit from this friendship? He should get up and walk away, that's what Arthur should do. They turned to look at each other at the same time, and Merlin saw that Arthur's expression was a mixture of a kicked puppy... and a sympathy friend.

'Sorry,' Arthur said.

'No, I'm sorry.'

'What are you sorry for?'

'Rattling on like a... mad old cow. I'm sorry, I'm tired, bad day, and I'm sorry for being so... boring.'

'You're not that boring.'

'I am, Arty. God, I swear, I bore myself.'

'Well you don't bore me.' Arthur took Merlin's hand. 'You could never bore me. You're one in a million, Em.'

'I'm not even one in three.'

Arthur kicked Merlin's foot with his. 'Em?'

'What?'

'Just take it, will you? Just shut up and take it.'

They regarded each other for a moment. He lay down once more, as if hitting a mattress defeated, and after a moment Merlin followed then jumped a little when he found out that Arthur had slid his arm beneath Merlin's shoulders. There was a self –conscious moment of mutual discomfort... or was it yearning that they didn't know what to do with, before Merlin turned onto his side and curled towards Arthur. Tightening his arm around him, Arthur spoke into the top of his head.

'You know what I can't understand? You have all these people telling you all the time how great you are, smart and funny and talented and all that, I mean endlessly, I've been telling you for years dare I admit it out loud. You're always the first person to jump in and reassure me if I'm ever doubtful about myself or think dying would be an easier option. You're always the one who tries to inspire me to carry on, that being a blonde prat isn't really that bad-'

Arthur wanted to take this deeper... and decided that Merlin was a bit more important than his pride.

'- You comfort me, Em, and dare I say that it works. You're my best friend and I can't bare the idea that you're unhappy. So why can't you take your own advice? Why can't you believe it when people say how amazing you are? Why do you think people say that stuff, Em? Do you think it's a conspiracy, people secretly ganging up to be nice about you?' His voice was genuine and affectionate, eyes concerned and worried.

Merlin pressed his head against Arthur's shoulder to make him stop or else he felt he might cry.

Why does he have to me so amazing?

'I should go...'

'No, stay a bit longer. We'll get another bottle.'

'Isn't Sophia waiting for you somewhere? Her little mouth crammed full of drugs like a little hamster.' He puffed out his cheeks and Arthur laughed, and Merlin began to feel a little better.

They stayed there for a while, then walked down to the off-licence and back up the hill to see the sun over the city, drinking cheap wine and eating nothing but a large bag of expensive crisps. Strange animal cries could be heard from the wooded rocky hills rising to heather moorland, and finally they were the last people on the hill.

'I should get home.' Merlin said, standing slightly woozily.

'You could stay at mine if you wanted.'

Merlin thought of the long trek home. He could get the bus but he liked to walk. He thought of his mother being out tonight doing extra shifts, and the leftover steak pie in the fridge, ready for re-heating. He thought of the probably cold house, small and cosy, but the central heating was broken.

'Borrow a toothbrush?' said Arthur, as if reading his thoughts. 'Sleep in one of our many guest rooms?'

Merlin imagined sitting next to Arthur in one of the giant ornate drawing rooms, filled with opulent rugs and tapestries, portraits of the family and only the richest most lovely and shiny oak and mahogany furniture. Fires blazing, an intimate lighting... but decided life was complicated enough. He reminded himself of the resolution that he was renewing quite a lot recently: No more sleepovers, no more walks in the park, no more poetry reading, no more extra time with Arthur.

And just when he thought he could say no, Arthur opened his mouth.

'Please? For me?...'

Arthur looked like a subtle desperate and... Merlin sighed, how could he say no to Arthur?

Thanks For Reading, let me know what you think, no obligation though. There was a lot of 'One Day' stuff in here so I shall disclaim it... again :)