We'll Run Like We're Awesome Totally Genius Chapter 7, a merlin fanfic

A part of Arthur had known—had always known—that this would happen. This being an actual, real, perhaps even bloody, war. Not Uther yelling and Arthur shouting back when his stung pride demanded some sort of retaliation. This wasn't a fight. Fights were easy. Fights tended to be short because Arthur tended to keep his mouth shut as much as he could. But if Uther said one word about Merlin, one tiny negative thing, if he even had a tone Arthur didn't like, then Arthur was going to completely unleash the anger and frustration that had been building for the past six years. Maybe even longer than that.

"How long has this been going on?" Uther asked, taking his place behind his desk, though he didn't sit. The test sheets and Merlin's letters were strewn all over the floor. Arthur wanted to gather up Merlin's letters and arrange them in a nice, straight pile.

"Since February."

"Were you ever going to mention it?"

"Mention what?"

"Any of it, Arthur. That you're seeing somebody. That you're gay."

"No."

"I'm your father and…"

"So?"

"So I have the right to know what's going on in your life, Arthur," Uther said tightly. "You're not yet an adult."

"I'm eighteen. Legally, I am an adult. I can vote, I can sign contracts…"

"Oh yes, you're quite good at signing contracts. You should have spoken to me before you ever went to the recruiter's office, Arthur."

"Why? You already made yourself perfectly clear. You don't want me here, and now that I've found a way to give you exactly what you want, you bitch at me. That's all I do, father. That's all I've ever done."

"You think that this is what I want from you?" Uther bent and scooped up the answer sheet for the exam. He held it in his first and shook it Arthur's face. "Do you think I would dream about the day you'd so proudly receive your GED? You were supposed to graduate the top of your class, Arthur."

"Why? Because you say so? Where were you when I failed my freshman math class? Where were you when I enrolled in remedial courses? You weren't there to stop me because you never knew. Because you never gave a shit about anything I did."

"That's not true, Arthur! But it's not easy to be a CEO and a father and I did the very best I could. If only your mother…"

"Right. If only my mother had lived, then he wouldn't be standing here at all right now, would we?" Arthur sighed and began collecting Merlin's letters. Had he escaped Morgana's grasp? Would he even want to see Arthur again? They had so little time before they were separated. Some days, Arthur was quite optimistic about their future. At other times—times like this—it was impossible to imagine the two of them finding each other again. "I get it, father. Believe me, I understand. If somebody took Merlin from me, I would hate that person, too. I'd probably never forgive them."

"Arthur, what are you talking about?"

"I know how my mother died. Morgana told me, all right?"

"She told you," Uther said slowly, as though the very notion staggered him. "When was this?"

"When I was twelve. She told me that I should try to understand things from your point of view, since it must be difficult to live with the reminder. And that it had been hard for since both Ygraine and Vivienne died."

"Arthur, please, what did she tell you exactly?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. What difference did it make what Morgana told him exactly? It'd happened six years ago, and the details were a little vague now, though the core of the story never faded in his memory. Arthur had been breech, and during the birth there had been complications that resulted in uterine tearing and hemorrhaging. The doctors had managed to save Arthur, but in doing so, they lost valuable time and Ygraine had died. At the age of twelve, all Arthur had understood was that his mother would still be alive if she'd never been pregnant. If he'd never been born. How could his father do anything except resent him and despise the sight of him? Now that Arthur had Merlin, he understood even better.

Uther remained silent as Arthur explained, his face impassive and his eyes twin chips of ice. Arthur hated that he brought the situation up at all. Despite their difficult relationship, he did still love his father, and perhaps the choking despair he felt every now and again was the result of knowing Uther would never—could never—return that love. How much did it really matter that he was gay when there were so many other things to be angry about?

"Arthur, I should have told you this. I should have…but I didn't know how and then time simply got away from me. I know it's difficult for you to understand since you are only eighteen, but I thought I would have more time. I didn't expect you to grow up so fast."

"Tell me what?"

"I should have told you about your mother. Ygraine always wanted to have children. She had your name picked out by the time she was fifteen, and when I met her at twenty, she made it quite clear that she was searching for somebody who wanted to settle down and start a family. I was utterly enchanted by her. There was nobody else in the world for me, and I told her I would give her a hundred children if that's what she wanted.

"But shortly after we married, we learned that Ygraine would be placing herself at great personal risk to have a child. We were advised that adoption would be best but…she wanted to have her own baby." Uther sank down in his chair, weighed down by the memories, but Arthur remained standing. "I told her that no matter where the child came from, we would still love it, it would still be ours. But I loved her and I wanted her to be happy. So…we decided that the risk was worth taking and shortly after that, she became pregnant with you.

"The doctors advised us quite bluntly that the only way to ensure Ygraine's safety was to terminate the pregnancy. She refused. She…she told me that she felt like carrying a child was her greatest work. She loved…she loved being pregnant. I understand some women do. She and Vivienne became friends during that time, bonding over the experience. She kept a journal. Every day she wrote down how much she weighed, and what she ate, if you were kicking or quiet, any cravings she had, even her morning sickness and her aches and pains. She kept a perfect record of every moment, it seems, and I had never seen her as happy as she was in those nine months."

"But she should have listened to the doctors," Arthur started.

"No. Don't you understand, Arthur? She knew what she was doing, knew the price she would have to pay for your life, and she did not regret it. She loved you so much." Uther curled his hand into a fist and brought it up to his mouth, like he could physically stave off the emotions threatening him. "She read to you, sang you songs, planned your future as much as she could. She had a chance to hold you, you know. Just for a moment, but she had the chance to see your eyes and…she looked…she looked like an angel. Losing her was the worst thing I ever went through, Arthur. But I couldn't regret the choice she made."

Arthur looked down at his hands, something hot and bitter rolling down his throat. "I guess I understand why I've always been such a disappointment to you."

"You're not. You've never been a disappointment to me, Arthur. You are the greatest accomplishment I have ever seen, and I only wish that you were my accomplishment. I have failed you in many ways, but you've never failed me."

"How am I supposed to believe that when you've made it crystal clear exactly how I've failed you?" Arthur demanded, still feeling hot and bitter. He was choking, struggling to breathe, and trying not to let Uther see the pain awakened by his story.

"Arthur, if I could have given you the perfect grades, the perfect game, perfect confidence, a perfect life, I would have done it without thinking twice. But I can't. I can run an empire, but I know nothing of running a family, and you're the person who suffered from that. I'm sorry. You're my son and I love you. No matter what you do, or who you do it with, that will never change."

"You told me you would throw me out of the house."

"I was merely trying to motivate you. I didn't mean…I would never do that to you, Arthur. I see now that treating you as though you were an insubordinate at work was not the best strategy."

"Do you still have her journal?"

"Yes. I kept everything."

"I'd like to see it."

"Of course. Arthur, one more thing. If you enlisted because you want to be a Marine and fight for your country, then I will not say another word on the matter. But if you did that simply because you thought you had no other option…please reconsider. I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you."

Arthur didn't even know what to say to that. He didn't know what he wanted, or what he thought, or even what he was feeling. Everything jumbled together in chaotic static. He heard the crunch and crack of television static roaring in his ears. Everything was white and broken. He couldn't say why he'd enlisted, what he wanted to do, what his goals were, what he even felt about his father.

"Can I see it now? Her journal?"

"Yes. I keep it upstairs."

He stood and gestured at Arthur, indicating he should follow. He needed to see Merlin, but that could wait. Just a little bit longer. All of his life, he wished he had more of his mother than a few photographs and home movies—artifacts that told him the color of her eyes and the shape of her smile, but never gave any deeper insight than that. Was he like her? He didn't think so. He was certain he must have been her complete opposite—except in terms of his coloring which he had obviously inherited from her and not his dark-haired, dark-eyed father.

Arthur never, ever encroached on his father's private space. As far as he knew, Uther didn't even use the lock on his door. It certainly made no difference to Arthur, who was so fiercely protective of his own private life that it never occurred to him to go rooting around in somebody else's. As a result, he could count on one hand the number of times he'd gone into the master suite for any reason, invited or not. It felt a little bit like stepping into another country. He recognized the superficial details, but he didn't quite understand the local customs and what was expected of him.

Uther crossed directly to the locked chest at the foot of his bed. He produced the key from a chain hanging around his neck—Arthur had noticed the key before but never asked where it fit or why Uther kept it—and pushed the heavy lid open before beckoning Arthur to his side.

"Most of her belongings were put into storage. But Vivienne helped me sort through what I should keep with me." That was the second time Uther mentioned his second wife's name in the last five minutes. In the years since Morgana graduated and left home, Arthur hadn't heard her mother's name spoken at all. It was almost as though that chapter of Uther's life never happened at all. It might have been utterly forgotten but for Morgana—a living, breathing reminder that Uther had once loved, and lost, two women.

Uther had kept obvious things like yearbooks, photo albums, and the guest book from their wedding. There were also cassette and VHS tapes with vague labels, envelopes inexplicably stuffed with receipts, a pair of sunglasses, a pair of ballet shoes, her high school diploma, at least six spiral notebooks (all of which were full from the first to the last page), several scrapbooks, and near the bottom, a lacy white book that was thicker than the scrapbooks but thinner than the photo albums. The front had the rather corny image of a stork carrying a baby boy, a single golden curl on the top of his head, his hands grasping for the air.

"Honestly, there may be more than this. There were several drawers that I didn't go through thoroughly."

It was on the tip of Arthur's tongue to ask why Uther had never shown this to him before, but he didn't waste his breath. He couldn't expect a logical explanation for an illogical decision. Everything Uther did when it came to Arthur's mother was motivated by emotions, not reason. Arthur had never been capable of grasping that before, but now it all made perfect sense.

"You can take your time with this, Arthur. In fact, feel free to move the chest into your room for now. You can ask me any questions you might have."

"Are you angry with me? For being gay?"

"I'm angry with you for having sex on my desk. Though I was young once, too, and I do know what it's like to make use of whatever is on hand."

"We were…we normally don't…this was just a weird fluke. But I took my practice test today and he got his acceptance letters and we…"

"Your practice test? How did you do?"

"Morgause said I scored in the 98th percentile," Arthur said, already indifferent to the score and distracted by the book in his hands.

"That's…well that's quite good."

"Yeah, I guess." Arthur stopped on a Polaroid he'd never seen before. Ygraine was heavily pregnant, like her water might break before the photo even processed. She cradled her stomach under her arm and waved at the camera with her other hand, her eyes sparkling, her smile shining brightly. She wore a white sundress and they must have been on a picnic, because she was clearly in a park. Sunlight bathed her pale skin and golden hair. "When was this?"

"The week before you were born."

Arthur swallowed hard and touched the image with the tip of his finger. One week. What had she done with her last week on Earth? Had she been happy every day? Had she known it was her last week? What would Arthur do with his last week on Earth? For the first time, Arthur realized that question wasn't just some hypothetical, random thought. He could very well die before the end of the year.

Arthur didn't want to die.

But more than that, he didn't want to make his father bury another person. Ygraine had sacrificed too much to end his existence after only eighteen years.

"Arthur." Uther put a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur realized too late that Uther intended to pull him into a hug. Arthur allowed it to happen, his arm going around Uther's back awkwardly. A hug was not going to fix it. A hug wasn't going to undo all the damage, and Arthur couldn't even begin to understand what the damage was. But it still felt good.

"As for your friend…"

"Merlin," Arthur provided.

"Yes, Merlin. He's welcome to stay for dinner, if he wishes."

"I'll let him know." Arthur pushed himself to his feet and clutched the baby book to his chest. "I'm going to look through this tonight."

"You're welcome to look through it any time."

Arthur stepped out of the bedroom in a bit of a daze. He couldn't even believe this was real. Maybe they were still fighting downstairs about Arthur being gay, and he'd simply gone into some sort of psychotic delusional fantasy. He followed Uther back down the stairs, waiting for his father to turn around and inform him that no son of his would be queer, and he'd best send Merlin on his way. But despite his constant fear, Uther did no such thing.

Merlin was waiting for him in the kitchen. He visibly restrained himself from jumping into Arthur's arms—and Arthur wasn't the only one who noticed. Uther's face flickered, and Morgana couldn't suppress her grin.

"I was helping with the potatoes," Merlin blurted.

"Everything's fine," Arthur assured him. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Dinner? Really? With the three of you?"

"Yes, that's what I meant, Merlin."

"Yeah. Okay. That sounds like fun." Merlin didn't sound completely convinced of that, but Arthur wasn't going to let him flee. He might have reached a tentative peace with his father, but Arthur still needed Merlin there, still needed his smile and his support.

At least Merlin wasn't outnumbered. Both Arthur and Morgana seemed to be on his side, keeping the conversation rolling just enough to distract Uther from the stranger sitting at the table. The stranger who had been quite enthusiastically fucking his son over his desk in his study. Merlin wasn't sure how or why Arthur had allowed this to happen, but Merlin pretty much just wanted to die. He could barely taste the food he'd helped prepared and he wanted to go somewhere far, far away. Preferably somewhere he'd never see Uther Pendragon again.

It wasn't that Uther was being unpleasant. He wasn't. He was being rather charming and…warm. He laughed readily at Morgana's stories of college and the motley group of freaks and geeks she'd attracted, and shared a few of his own stories from college. Which were so completely insane that Merlin had a hard time reconciling this man with the same one Arthur viewed as nothing more than a distant jailer. Merlin laughed when appropriate, but mostly just tried to eat without choking, plotting out his revenge. At least when Merlin invited Arthur to dinner, they got to have a pleasant meal with Merlin's lovely mother who wasn't the least bit frightening or intimidating.

"Merlin," Uther said during a lull in the conversation.

Merlin froze, as frightened as a rabbit in the headlights. His throat ran dry, his tongue suddenly heavy and useless. "Yes?"

"Arthur mentioned you received acceptance letters today."

Merlin nodded.

"Where are they from?" Uther prompted patiently.

"UCLA. Berkeley. Brown. Uh…Harvard." His gaze darted to Arthur, who was smiling rather proudly, and some of the nerves in his stomach settled. "I tried to hedge my bets."

"That is quite impressive," Uther said with genuine warmth. "Have you made your selection yet?"

"No. I…well, my mother wants me to go to Harvard. But I would rather stay here and go to Berkeley."

"I don't think you could go wrong either way. Have you any scholarship offers?"

"He's probably got tons," Morgana cut in. "He's had a 4.0 since birth and he only takes AP courses."

"That's not true," Merlin protested.

"Yes it is. Always the smartest boy in the room. And teacher's pet," Arthur said.

"I wasn't a teacher's pet! They were just my friends…"

Arthur arched his brow. "See? Teacher's pet."

Morgana laughed. "He's right, Merlin. Normal people don't count their teachers as friends."

"I've applied for a number of scholarships," Merlin said, choosing to ignore Arthur and Morgana. "I should be hearing about them soon."

"Well, congratulations Merlin. That is very exciting news. I suppose an exuberant celebration was appropriate in these circumstances."

Merlin didn't know quite how red his cheeks suddenly were, but he felt at least as flushed as Arthur looked. Uther chuckled in a rather polite, understated way, but Morgana barely tried to hide her amusement. Arthur shot her a dirty look, perhaps because he didn't quite dare to shoot one at his father. Merlin just hoped that would be the end of it. And if it wasn't the end of it, maybe the floor could split open and demons could drag him to hell. Like in that movie.

Thankfully, Morgana took over the conversation from there, giving Merlin a chance to send a beseeching look Arthur's direction. Please please please get me out of here.

Eat your soup. At least, that's what Merlin thought the rather strange gestures at the bowl meant.

Please pleae please please.

Arthur shook his head. Cleary he wasn't going to be any help. Merlin fantasized about announcing he needed an early night and just booking it for the door, but he really wanted to know just what had happened behind the closed study door. He'd been pretty sure there would be bloodshed, despite Morgana's reassurances, and to see them step into the kitchen as, well…not friends, but certainly not enemies, had been enough to throw Merlin for a loop.

What was this insanity? Even more peculiar was that Arthur was being on his best behavior. Like, he was eating dinner with Hunith. Merlin hardly ever saw him like this—perfectly pleasant without a hint of surliness. Merlin liked Arthur's surliness. He didn't slouch in his chair or stare at the soup with barely contained irritation.

Merlin wasn't complaining about Arthur's good humor, but he just didn't quite know what to make of it. Perhaps Uther had mentioned Morgana's offer to him? No, no, that couldn't be it. If Arthur thought Uther or Morgana were trying to manipulate him out of his current plans, he would not be smiling about it. In fact, there was nothing more guaranteed to bring out Arthur's most disagreeable nature.

He kind of wished Morgana would bring it up, though. Now would be a perfect time. Merlin could barely stand to think about what she might say. His stomach twisted into painful knots, and it was difficult to resist the temptation of believing things were well and truly fixed. Mostly, he understood that Arthur was going to leave no matter what Merlin did, no matter what Morgana offered him. Arthur's mind was made up, and Merlin would just have to live with that. No matter how much it pained both of them.

But there were options besides the military for Arthur, and now that Morgana had one to put on the table, maybe Arthur would start believing it. Arthur could see reason when he wanted to. But he'd never have the chance to prove it if Morgana never mentioned it.

"I'll take care of cleanup," Arthur announced.

The other three at the table froze at the same time, looking at Arthur and then at each other in confusion.

"You'll what?" Morgana asked. "Did you just say you would clean up?"

"Yes."

"You mean the dirty dishes?" From Merlin.

"Yes."

Morgana laughed. "Do you even know how to load the dishwasher?"

"He doesn't. He tried to load the one at my house, and he put the plates on the top rack."

"That's a perfectly reasonable place to put them," Arthur protested. "Look, if you don't want me to…"

"No, of course you should do the dishes if you want to do them," Morgana said quickly.

"I'll help," Merlin said.

Arthur smirked. "Well of course you will, Merlin. As you've already pointed out, you're the one who knows how to load the dishwasher."

Morgana tossed her napkin on the table. "I'm in the mood for ice cream. Who's up for some Cold Stone? Uther?"

"Of course, my dear. I'll drive."

Merlin didn't breathe properly again until he heard Uther pull out of the garage. "Oh my god, Arthur, what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. We…talked."

"About what?"

"My mother."

"How…I thought…how did you get to that point?"

"I told him that I…" Arthur's face turned a strange shade, and Merlin thought that he wasn't going to finish the sentence and he'd never know the turning point. "I told him I understood why he hated me."

Merlin didn't think, didn't try to find the words to protest, just wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him close. He couldn't even insist that Uther didn't hate him, because what did he know of the older man's heart? Of course, by that same token, he couldn't understand any heart that knew Arthur and didn't love him completely. He didn't push, didn't give voice to his curiosity, just waited until the entire story fell from Arthur in halting fragments. Merlin's heart broke about a thousand times, and he wished so much he could meet Ygraine and thank her for the sacrifice she was willing to make.

"You'd think that he would have mentioned all of that sooner."

Arthur snorted, and then sniffed and wiped his cheek against Merlin's shoulder. "No shit."

"It must have been difficult for him to talk about."

"Yeah, I guess." Arthur tightened his arms around Merlin, pulling him closer. "I'm so tired."

"You've had a long day," Merlin murmured sympathetically.

"Let's go to bed."

"We can't right now."

"Why not?"

"Because you said you'd clean the kitchen."

"Oh. Fuck. I didn't mean it. I just wanted them to go away."

"Whether you meant it or not, you're pretty much stuck with it now." Merlin kissed him just above the ear, smelling the sweat and the day's weariness clinging to Arthur's hair. "But I can stay tonight."

"Thank you."

"And besides, Morgana wants to talk to you."

Arthur groaned softly. "About what?"

"I promised her I wouldn't say anything."

"You can't tell me that Morgana wants to talk to me, imply you know what it's about, and then say nothing. That's not fair, Merlin."

"I can't break my word."

"We shouldn't have any secrets between us." Arthur slid his hand around Merlin's hip and massaged his cock through his jeans. "We don't have any secrets, do we?"

"That's playing dirty."

"I'm trying to prove a point."

"And if you're not careful, Uther and Morgana are going to get another eyeful. I don't think we want that, do we?"

"You're right. We don't. So you'd just better tell me."

"She's going to kill me if I tell you, Arthur. Kill me."

"I'll protect you. I'll be your knight in shining armor."

Merlin sighed. He was always going to give in to Arthur. That was a plain fact, and it wasn't his fault if Morgana didn't realize it. Frankly, he was amazed that he'd held out for as long as he had.

"It's like this. Morgana is visiting because she wants Uther to fund a trip she's putting together."

"A trip? Like a vacation to Europe or something?" Arthur asked with a hint of irritation.

"No. Not like a vacation. Like a Peacecorps thing, except fully sponsored by the Pendragon Corp. Morgana has got plans to help animal conservationists. In Africa to start with, but I think in her mind she's already well on her way to saving all the endangered species."

"Why hasn't she told me about this?"

"She didn't exactly have a window to mention it yet. I'm not sure why she didn't bring it up at dinner. But…this could be an amazing opportunity for you, Arthur. Arthur?"

Arthur took a step back. "Africa?"

"It's not worse than Afghanistan."

"No, I know. It's just…where in Africa?"

"Uganda, I think."

"Is that dangerous?"

"Well, it's not more dangerous than Afghanistan."

"I don't want to go."

"With Morgana?"

"Away from you," Arthur admitted, his voice raw. For the first time, Merlin realized how truly exhausted Arthur probably was. Not just from the emotional toll of that evening, but from the tumult of the whole year.

"You don't have to."

"I'm either going to war or to Africa. You're going to Harvard."

Merlin cupped Arthur's face and pulled him back so he could look him in the eye. If he didn't, he might lose his nerve. And he didn't want to lose his nerve. "I won't go to Harvard. Or anywhere else."

"What? No. No, Merlin, that's simply not acceptable. We've already established that you're not going to throw your whole life away because of me. If you don't go to Harvard, everything we've done has been for nothing. And if you think I'll stand by and let you…"

Merlin silenced him with a hard kiss. "Will you listen to me for a second please?"

"I'll give you one second."

"I can defer enrollment. If they want me now, they'll want me next year."

Arthur's brow furrowed as he processed that information. "That won't fuck you over?"

"No, of course not. Listen, Morgana has a really good plan. She must, if Uther's willing to back it. You and I could make a real difference."

"We don't know anything about animal conservation."

"So we'll learn," Merlin said gently. "Look, you should talk to Morgana about this. She's very convincing."

"I can tell. You know she probably thinks she's going to go stop animal poachers? She'll get us all killed."

"You've enlisted in the Marines."

"I remember, Merlin, thank you. But at least the Marines would give me proper training. What do you think we're going to do against armed poachers?"

"Okay, look, nobody's said anything about armed poachers. Morgana didn't say anything about armed poachers. She's already been working on this for a year. This isn't just going to be a crazy safari to Africa."

Arthur looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you really want to do this?"

"I want to be with you. I want to see the world. I want to help Morgana and make a difference." Merlin touched his brow to Arthur's. "And did I mention I want to be with you?"

"How do I get out of the contract I signed? I think the US Government is pretty strict about these things."

Merlin smiled. "Tell them your boyfriend doesn't approve."

Arthur crooked his finger under Merlin's chin and kissed him slowly. Merlin followed his lead, holding himself back from the much harder caress he longed for, letting Arthur take what he needed. His tongue was probing but the reserved, almost shy, and Merlin felt something tremble in his chest. Going to Africa to stay by Arthur's side wouldn't be a hardship. Not when the alternative was to be completely without him. As long as he could wake up in Arthur's arms, he didn't care what continent they were on, or how dangerous it was.

"I love you," Arthur whispered.

"I love you, too. But…" Merlin forced himself to take a step back, out of the reach of Arthur's oh-so-tempting lips. "Your father is going to be home any minute and I do not want him to catch us going at it on his kitchen counter. Once in a lifetime is more than enough. So I guess he's not upset that you're…you know…"

"Gay? No, he doesn't seem to mind. He is annoyed about the desk."

Merlin blanched. "Is he?"

"Don't worry. I don't think he's going to call for your head or anything."

"You think you two are going to be okay?"

"Someday, I do."

Merlin thought, given the circumstances, someday was the best answer he could hope for.

"Oh, Merlin, it's perfect. It's like a dream in a fairytale."

"A dream in a fairytale?"

"Yes. A dream about unicorns in a fairytale. With princesses and brave knights and magic," Gwen said, her hands clasped in front of her in girlish glee. Merlin had marshaled every volunteer he could find, called in every favor, committed himself to owing about a hundred favors, begged, stole, borrowed, and sacrificed sleep and private time with Arthur for the past three days, but his vision of the perfect Senior Prom finally came together perfectly.

Well, almost perfectly.

Arthur had been absolutely critical in the whole process. He showed up that morning with Merlin, hours before even Gwen was expected to arrive, and he jumped to every task with affable eagerness. When he needed to take orders, he did so without complaint, and when he needed to bark out a few, he wasn't shy. It was such a far cry from his behavior for the Valentine's dance that Merlin had paused more than once just to watch him with a goofy grin on his face. The problem was, after the final light had been hung, the final table set up, the final instructions given to the DJ, Arthur had disappeared.

They never talked about Arthur actually accompanying Merlin to the dance. Merlin hadn't bothered asking, knowing Arthur's general aversion to school dances. After all, he'd survived every other dance without a date, what difference did this one make? He could still have fun with Gwen and Lance and Will. He could still dance, drink punch laced with booze, and tease Gwen about Lance until she blushed. He truly believed it would be fine and he wouldn't miss Arthur beyond the usual level of longing he felt any time Arthur wasn't right at his side.

About two minutes after the first song started, Merlin missed Arthur with a fierceness that almost took his breath. He declined three invitations to dance, one of them from Freya, and sat at the table he'd claimed for himself, watching Gwen step into Lance's arms like they were meant only to hold her. Watching the two of them was bittersweet, to say the least. He knew they were already committed to going to different universities—Gwen would be at Berkeley and Lance at Cal Poly. It would be difficult for them, the world would do its best to tear them apart, no doubt, but they got to have that night together. That dance, and that shy little smile that was meant for Lance alone.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked. "Look at what you've accomplished. This is amazing, Merlin. You should at least smile."

Merlin tried to smile, but it was just hard to muster any genuine happiness. He was happy that the whole event was perfect. He truly was. But it hurt a little that after four years of planning dances, he'd never even get to participate. It shouldn't have hurt at all, Merlin knew. School dances, the little ones and the big ones, were meaningless. Holdovers from tradition that nobody even cared about. But in their own small way, they did matter, the way all the high school traditions mattered when you were in the middle of it all.

"I guess I shouldn't be so down. It's not like Arthur would want to dance with me, even if he was here."

"I'll dance with you."

"No, thanks."

"I'll make Lance dance with you."

Merlin perked up a little. "Do you think he would?"

"Yes." Her eyes narrowed. "But how do I know you wouldn't try to get fresh with him?"

Merlin nodded at the large cluster of people on the floor who currently seemed to be involved in an orgy with clothes. "How could you even tell? I could take him out there and do all sort of vile things to him, you wouldn't be able to prove a thing."

"I leave for an hour and you're already planning to grope Lance?"

Merlin jumped up from his seat so fast he knocked it over. But once he turned around to face Arthur, he couldn't move at all. He'd seen Arthur dressed and undressed, rumpled, freshly showered, dirty, sweaty, dripping with water inside the shower, and in every other possible state. He remembered Arthur bloody and angry in schoolyard fights, and talking back to teachers, and openly defying every authority figure he'd ever met. He knew Arthur's deepest insecurities, his vulnerabilities, his blue eyes dark with fear and self-doubt. But he'd never, ever seen Arthur like this, and he wasn't sure he could even begin to process it.

The first obvious difference was the clothes. As far as Merlin knew, Arthur never saw any event as reason to dress up, even though he had the money to put together one hell of a wardrobe if he had the mind to. Morgana must have helped him pick out his suit, because even to Merlin's untrained and unknowing eye, it was absolutely exquisite. The collar was high with a wide, silver tie, which was tucked under a sharply cut vest. The jacket fit his shoulders perfectly, the cuffs held together with pearl links. His pants didn't bunch up around his ankles, like so many of the rented tuxedos in the room did, and even in the dim light, they were attractively shiny.

But it wasn't the clothes that left Merlin breathless. Or the fact that is hair was actually shining like gold. It was the set of his smile and the undeniable light in his eye. He looked good, no doubt about that. He looked better than anybody Merlin had ever seen. But he obviously felt good, too. Confidence seemed to roll off him in waves, and he didn't have that hint of doubt Merlin so often caught when Arthur was in a crowd of people. If he gave the impression of not belonging in that room, it was only because he looked like a Hollywood star who'd just stepped off the red carpet for his photo op.

Merlin kept staring until Arthur's eyebrow crawled into his hairline. "Merlin? Hello? Earth to Merlin? Anybody there?"

"You're here," Merlin squeaked.

"Yes. Where else would I be?"

"Not here."

"Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Because you never go to dances. You hate dancing. You never said. I didn't think."

"Oh, in that case I guess it's a good thing you didn't get yourself another date." He stepped forward and took Merlin's hand, pulling him against his body and wrapping his arm around Merlin's waist. "Of course I'd be here. This is my father's building after all, and my boyfriend made me work like a dog to get it ready in time. Do you think I'd go to all that effort and not see the fruits of my labor?"

"Can we dance?"

"That's usually what people do at these things, right?"

Merlin wasn't going to cry. Really. He wasn't. But he might have sniffed a little bit as he wrapped both arms around Arthur. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, but it was a good pain. The sort of pain that he wanted to feel every single day for the rest of his life.

"I'm so happy you came."

"Me, too. Come on. Our song will be starting soon."

"Our song? We don't have a song."

"We do now."

"What is it?"

Almost as soon as Merlin asked, the familiar guitar chords started. " Are you joking?"

"No. Why? Do you think it's funny?"

"It's a little funny, you big girl."

"Look, are you going to dance with me or not?"

And I'd give up forever to touch you

Cuz I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven

That I'll ever be…

"Can I ask why this is our song?" Merlin asked, once Arthur had him in the middle of the floor. In the middle of everybody. Every single member of the senior class, and a fair handful of juniors, were watching the two of them dance to one of the cheesiest songs ever recorded.

"Can't we just dance?"

"I really need to know."

"Because I used to…think about…maybe asking you to dance. And I always thought this would be a good song if I did."

"When did you think about asking me to dance? You've never been to a dance."

"That doesn't mean I didn't think about it. I used to fantasize about getting up the courage to show up, and ask you, but…I never thought you'd say yes."

"Oh, Arthur." He rested his cheek on Arthur's shoulder and closed his eyes, the scent of a new and unfamiliar cologne working deep into his brain and forever melding itself to the part that lit up when everything was just right. He'd never be able to smell the mellow, citrusy scent again without experiencing a wave of contentment, a faith in the natural order of the Universe. "I love this song."

"Do you really?"

"I do now."

"I'm sorry you thought I wouldn't be here."

"I should have had more faith in you."

"You've already had more faith in me than anybody else has in my life."

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how we promise each other everything's going to be okay, even though we don't really quite believe it?"

"Yes."

The music swelled up around them, the guitar and the orchestra building in a triumphant arc. "Tonight I believe it."

Arthur nodded his agreement, and neither of them spoke again for the rest of the song. Merlin kept his eyes tightly shut until the final notes bled into a new, faster paced song. When he looked up again, Gwen was staring at him with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, tucked into the curve of Lance's body. He flashed her a quick smile and she grinned in return. Years and years later, that was how he always thought of her, even when her hair turned gray and she had a dozen grandchildren.

Arthur tried to take advantage of Merlin's distraction to bolt from the floor, but Merlin caught him by the cuff.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To sit down."

"Nope. You're here to dance."

"I don't know how to dance, Merlin."

"You managed it when you had a cast on your leg."

"That was different."

"It's not so different." Merlin caught him by the tie with his other hand and pulled him close. "Actually, I know for a fact you're familiar with quite a number of moves."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Just move your hips like this." Merlin rolled his hips to the beat of the music, smiling as Arthur's cheeks turned pink and his cock hardened. "See? You love dancing."

Arthur's laugh was loud and vibrant, as golden as his hair, better than any music, and Merlin's heart twisted in a new, wonderful way. He promised himself then that he would never get tired of that sweet sound. People break promises every day, the ones they make to themselves and the ones they extend to other people. But Merlin kept this one every day. For the rest of his life.

And I'd give up forever to touch you

Cuz I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven

That I'll ever be…

"Can't we just dance?"

"I really need to know."

"Because I used to…think about…maybe asking you to dance. And I always thought this would be a good song if I did."

"When did you think about asking me to dance? You've never been to a dance."

"That doesn't mean I didn't think about it. I used to fantasize about getting up the courage to show up, and ask you, but…I never thought you'd say yes."

"Do you really?"

"I do now."

"I'm sorry you thought I wouldn't be here."

"I should have had more faith in you."

"You've already had more faith in me than anybody else has in my life."

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how we promise each other everything's going to be okay, even though we don't really quite believe it?"

"Yes."

The music swelled up around them, the guitar and the orchestra building in a triumphant arc. "Tonight I believe it."

Arthur tried to take advantage of Merlin's distraction to bolt from the floor, but Merlin caught him by the cuff.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To sit down."

"Nope. You're here to dance."

"I don't know how to dance, Merlin."

"You managed it when you had a cast on your leg."

"That was different."

"It's not so different." Merlin caught him by the tie with his other hand and pulled him close. "Actually, I know for a fact you're familiar with quite a number of moves."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Just move your hips like this." Merlin rolled his hips to the beat of the music, smiling as Arthur's cheeks turned pink and his cock hardened. "See? You love dancing."