Twenty Years Later (6/7)

[darkdeeplakes]

Part 6

On the way back to Merlin's car, they'd struck a bargain that Arthur would drive back to the Pendragon's, and they would both stay there.

'To sleep,' Arthur had added sternly, but Merlin could tell from the slow easy grin on his face that he was ridiculously pleased that they weren't parting just yet.

Merlin made an exhausted noise which he hoped would be interpreted as a reluctant yes, looped an arm around him and leaned back against his car, pulling Arthur with him.

This time the kiss was uninhibited, both confirming what they wanted, and promising what was to come. Before it had been careful and considered, but now all Merlin wanted to do was to lick and nip at Arthur until he had tested him to the limits and he knew every inch of his mouth and face and neck.

'Come on, you need to get back,' Arthur said, finally pulling away, though his fingers continued to grip Merlin's hips, retaining that intimate connection a few painfully charged moments longer. Merlin unlocked his car with some reluctance, but it was tempered by the anticipation of everything that lay before them.

Merlin dozed for most of the journey, reflecting happily on the evening's events; so much had happened that even yesterday seemed as if it was years ago.

When they got back, the lights were still on. 'Odd,' Arthur said. 'Uther's usually a total nut about conserving electricity.'

'Sure this is okay?' Merlin murmured to Arthur, hardly able to keep his eyes open as they crunched across the gravel drive.

'How old am I?' Arthur said, chuckling. 'And in any case, you're in the guest room.'

'No I'm bloody not,' Merlin said.

When they walked into the kitchen, at first everything looked completely normal, until Arthur walked over to the counter and gasped.

'Uther?' Arthur called and as his tone switched from curious to alarmed, Merlin was instantly fully awake. 'Dad?'

Uther was kneeling, almost doubled up, his hands clutching at his chest, struggling for breath.

As Merlin pushed Arthur out of the way to get to Uther, a fleeting impression of Freya went through his head. He magic flared, and he could tell that the man's heart was struggling; it was as obvious to him as the white of Uther's hair, and the heavy lines on his face.

Without thinking, he supported Uther, who had lost consciousness, with one arm, and placed his free hand over his chest. He focused his magic on that point, trying to draw out the irregularities and blockages in his heart and arteries and get things moving again. As Uther sagged against him, Merlin felt most of the damage flow into his own body. With the last of his strength, Merlin lowered him to the floor, noting distantly that though Uther was still pale, some colour had returned to his face, and he was breathing again.

Then everything slowed down. His chest was in agony. It had been a dull throb from the second he touched Uther; now it was almost unbearable. He wanted to scream, but wasn't sure if he could get the air into his lungs. He was peripherally aware that he had curled up into a ball, and that Arthur was shouting at him, but he wasn't able to do anything, react to anything, until the pain stopped. As he lay there twitching, his eyes tightly shut, he wondered if this was the end, and he tried not to feel too cheated about having everything he wanted snatched away just as it had come within his grasp again.

He forced his eyes open a crack and found himself looking into Arthur's pale, terrified face. He was speaking on the phone to the emergency services, eyes moving frantically back and forth between Merlin and Uther. Keeping his eyes on Arthur calmed him, and suddenly he felt lucky rather than resentful about the way things were turning out. He wasn't sure for how long he stayed like that, just looking into Arthur's eyes, but eventually the pain began, very gradually, to recede. Little by little he found he was able to take air in, and feeling began to return to his arms and legs, and only then, even though he still felt like he'd been hit by a truck, he knew he was going to get through this.

'I'm okay,' he whispered to Arthur, his voice almost inaudible. 'I'm going to be okay.'

The next few hours were a blur for Merlin. He remembered pulling himself up to sitting just as the ambulance arrived. He remembered Uther surrounded by paramedics, and how their hurried, subdued tones relaxed slowly into those of calm and relief, as they concluded that Uther appeared to be out of danger.

'You'd better stay here while I go to the hospital,' said Arthur, after he'd had a row with a paramedic after insisting Merlin was checked out too. 'They don't understand what happened,' he said, with one eyebrow raised, 'so they're going to keep him in for a while and do some tests.'

Arthur sounded deadly serious, but there was something else in there too. It didn't quite have the sharp edge of anger but it wasn't far off either. He still looked pale, and he wasn't quite meeting his eyes, but Merlin, who was hardly able to keep his own eyes open, decided that whatever it was would have to wait.

'Come on then,' said Arthur.

Merlin wanted to object and tell Arthur he was fine, even though he was far from it, but his body was in so much pain that it was all he could do to nod, let Arthur lead him the few agonising steps to the sofa and cover him with a blanket. As Arthur stood back up, Merlin tried to smile, and felt his face twist into a grimace.

'Do you need me to stay?' Arthur asked. 'You're not going to ....?'

Merlin shook his head, a big mistake, as the motion felt as if his face was being pulled apart by meat hooks. 'Sleep,' he managed, before he felt his eyes close and he drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

~~~

He wasn't sure how much later it was before he woke up again, but it was daylight, he was in a proper bed, and Arthur was sitting in the chair opposite him.

'Morning,' he tried to say, but it came out as a dry, stuttering rasp.

'Afternoon,' Arthur said. 'And it's Tuesday. Don't worry, I called your work for you; they think you have 'flu. Do you think you can sit up?'

Merlin wasn't entirely sure, but he certainly felt better than he had in the early hours of Sunday morning, so he tried to push himself up onto his elbows, and promptly fell back onto the pillows.

'Steady on,' said Arthur, rushing over to the bed to grab hold of him, and manoeuvre him carefully to a sitting position. 'I asked if you thought could sit, not for you to actually do it.'

'Well perhaps for once you were being too subtle,' Merlin mumbled at him, but there was no heat in it, and when he looked up he saw that Arthur was smiling at him.

'I see you're back to normal, then,' Arthur said, stroking the hair at Merlin's temples.

'Think so,' said Merlin, but he couldn't help wincing as he brought his hand up to meet Arthur's. 'Someone might want to let my body know that, though.'

'You need more rest,' Arthur said, and held up a glass so he could sip some water from it. 'I'll get some breakfast.'

'Thanks,' said Merlin, and was surprised by the soft press of Arthur's lips against his own.

'No,' Arthur said, 'I should be thanking you,' and he headed off to the kitchen.

'How's Uther?' Merlin asked five minutes later, nibbling at a piece of toast and jam.

'He'll be out of hospital by the end of the week,' Arthur said. 'They didn't find much wrong with him apart from a bit of high blood pressure.'

'Great,' said Merlin, and he saw Arthur tense in front of him. He'd looked like this just before he left with the paramedics, but he recognised the expression on Arthur's face this time: it was fear.

'Arthur,' Merlin said, reaching across for him. 'I didn't mean to worry you. I'm sorry.'

'That's all very well now,' Arthur said, smiling tightly, 'but if you pull a stunt like that again, I'll bloody well kill you myself.'

Unfortunately, the effect of Arthur's stern words was ruined by the tear that escaped from the corner of his eye, and the choked sound that escaped from his mouth, and how he looked away, blinking and wiping at his face.

'I'm grateful, really I am,' Arthur mumbled, staring at a point on the wall opposite to Merlin, 'but I thought I was going to lose you, and we'd just started working things out.'

'It all happened so quickly,' Merlin said, devastated by Arthur's reaction. 'I didn't want to think it through.'

'You didn't want to? That's a bit different from not being able to, isn't it?'

'I hesitated once before,' Merlin said, wanting to explain. 'I hesitated with Freya. I think ... maybe ... I could have done something for her but ...'

'Merlin, you can't know that -'

'I'll never be sure though, will I? She was alive when I got to her, but she'd lost so much blood, and I was selfish. I'd only tried healing a few times before, little things really. Sprains, headaches, cuts and bruises, that sort of thing. It was always agony afterwards, and looking at her, I thought attempting it might kill me too, so I froze.'

'You didn't know what to do, Merlin. You panicked. You can't blame yourself.'

'But I do blame myself,' Merlin said, and it was an odd relief to explain exactly why. 'Those few seconds I waited before I started to use my magic to absorb her injuries, if I hadn't been so selfish, so indecisive ...'

Arthur's expression softened, and he reached forward, still very careful not to hurt him, and enfolded him into a hug.

'I can't say I agree with you, he said, into Merlin's hair, 'but I think I can see why. Sort of. But would you have expected Freya to risk her life for you, if things were reversed?'

'Of course not,' Merlin mumbled into Arthur's shoulder. He was starting to feel exhausted again.

'There's a but, isn't there?' Arthur said, pulling back so they faced one another.

Merlin nodded. He couldn't deny Arthur's logic. He wanted to agree, really he did; his head was there already, it was just the rest of him that disagreed.

'It's different,' Merlin said. 'With me, I mean. I can help; I should have done more. And with Uther it wasn't like I wanted a chance to redeem myself. I'm not so crass that I thought this would cancel out what I didn't do for Freya, but all the same, I couldn't let myself hang back again.'

Merlin looked at Arthur. He had never once articulated to anyone the full story of why he had felt so responsible for Freya's death, yet in the last few days he'd revealed more to Arthur than he had to anyone in his entire life. He hoped that it hadn't been too much.

'I can't promise I won't do it again,' Merlin said, trying hard to hold a yawn back. 'What if it was you?'

'Well, I can't say I like it,' Arthur said with a rueful smile, 'but I understand. We'll just all have to be very careful from now on, I suppose.'

This time it was Merlin who kissed Arthur. This time they spent long, long minutes, just tasting each other, just feeling the pressure of one another's lips, and the texture and slide and heat of one another's tongues. Eventually, even though any sudden movement was agony for him, it was Merlin who started to unbutton Arthur's shirt, and despite Arthur's half-hearted, convalescence-related protests, he might even have managed it had an unstoppable wave of exhaustion not rolled over him, catching him unawares, and he dropped back sleepily onto the same expanse of Arthur's neck that he had been kissing and hungrily running his tongue over just moments before.

The next morning, they decided it was probably best if Merlin returned home, but with certain, Arthur-imposed conditions.

'I'll be keeping an eye on you,' Arthur announced. 'I'm not doing anything except going back and forth to the hospital for the next couple of days, anyway.'

'Arthur,' said Merlin. It wasn't that he didn't love the idea of Arthur being around him, or that he didn't want it very badly indeed, but he'd put him through a lot over the last couple of days. He'd made him accept and adjust to so much that it hardly seemed fair. 'You shouldn't be doing this,' he said. 'You don't have to.'

'Yes, I do,' said Arthur, and that, apparently was that.

Although Merlin had been worried on some levels about how it would be with Arthur in such close proximity, they both fitted into the apartment very well from the moment they got back there. Admittedly, Merlin was spending the best part of each day asleep while Arthur went about visiting Uther, making calls to the Dragonfly office about an imminent expedition and generally complaining about the mess everywhere, but all the same, it didn't feel bad.

He also, it soon transpired, excelled in resisting Merlin's advances, in as much as a person who could barely walk across the room could advance on anyone.

'Come on,' Merlin said, the first evening they'd got back. They'd been sitting up on Merlin's bed, eating chocolate, and watching Dr Who re-runs. 'I'm not an invalid, you know.'

'Yes, but you're not better yet, either,' said Arthur, popping another chocolate into his mouth, and compromising by pulling him closer. 'We should wait till you can at least stand upright for more than a minute.'

'That just makes me wonder about what you have in mind,' Merlin said, laughing, and to his approval, Arthur had to resort to kissing him to prevent further speculation.

After that, Merlin resorted to slightly more devious tactics, which yielded decidedly unsatisfactory results.

'I need a bath,' he announced, as soon as they woke up the following morning. Arthur looked across at him, and put his book - some sort of archaeological manual that he'd been reading with a distinctly scheming expression on his face - to the side.

'Yeah, that's probably a good idea,' Arthur said, waving his hand in front of his nose in mock-horror. Then he got out of bed, stretched, and walked to the larger bathroom across the landing. When Merlin heard the taps go on a couple of seconds later, he allowed himself a sneaky grin.

It didn't go quite according to plan. Getting to the bath was an operation all by itself, and by the time he got there, he felt so nauseous that jumping Arthur was the last thing on his mind. He started to recover himself when the smell of the hot, scented bath, hit him, and Arthur started to remove his clothes. He was warm, and Arthur was very, very close, and the brush of hands and cotton against his skin started to become unbearable. As he felt the waistband of his sleep shorts come loose and drop down to his ankles, he looked up at Arthur and saw that he wasn't the only one who was having trouble.

'Merlin,' Arthur said, his voice half-warning, half-groan, as Merlin's hand came to rest on his hip.

'Please?' Merlin said, ignoring how dizzy the steam and oil of the bath made him feel, and knowing exactly how hard it would be for Arthur to turn him down.

It was going so well. He'd even got Arthur sitting down on the chair, and was about to climb onto his lap when he looked down at Merlin's leg.

'What's that?' he said, standing back up.

'What's what?' Merlin said, looking down at the scar that ran nearly the entire length of his inner thigh to his knee. 'Oh, that. It's from when I tried to heal Freya.'

'It's fucking huge,' said Arthur. 'You got that from Freya?'

'She was hit by a car,' Merlin said. 'I told you her injuries were bad. I tried to absorb some of it ...'

'And you've just prevented Uther from - quite possibly - a fatal heart attack. No,' Arthur said, propelling Merlin back to the bath. 'This is a very bad idea. Can you imagine the damage you might have done to yourself?'

'I'm sorry,' Arthur murmured, a little later, as he rubbed a flannel carefully over Merlin's back. 'Soon, I promise, and you can do yourself all the damage you want.'

'You make no sense, Arthur Pendragon,' said Merlin, who didn't know when to give up. 'You're saying no on the basis that I'm in a bit of discomfort now, yet you're clearly planning on making it difficult for me to walk anyway. I don't see the difference.'

Arthur flicked him with some water, and started kneading his shoulders. 'It's not easy for me either,' he said, his voice shaky and only barely audible. 'But I'm not taking any risks. It's your own fault, you know.'

'I hate how sensible you are, sometimes,' Merlin grumbled, but he leaned into the reassuring touch of Arthur's fingers anyway, and reached back to stroke the line of Arthur's jaw, 'and I hate how you just bloody know that if you distract me for long enough I'll just go back to sleep anyway.'

'No fooling you is there,' Arthur choked out, and in the lightly steamed mirror opposite, Merlin caught the wildness in his eyes for a second and concluded that Arthur was maybe having an even harder time with this than he was.

~~~

On Friday, Merlin awoke feeling refreshed. He moved experimentally, and the fatigue and ache in his limbs, whilst still very much there, was considerably reduced. He sat up and stretched, and realised that he could hear Arthur talking on the phone in the next room.

' --- yes I know we were scheduled to fly tonight,' he said, 'but something's come up, and I've got other priorities now. Gareth can cover it; he's been working in consultant capacity for months now. He was accompanying me anyway.'

There was some babble on the end of the line and then a pause.

'No, really I can't,' Arthur said. 'My boyfriend -' Merlin took a deep breath '- is unwell and I can't leave right now.'

More babble.

'No,' said Arthur, sounding exasperated, 'I don't know when. I'll let you know. You've got Gareth.'

He must have ended the call then, because Merlin heard nothing else except some rapid pacing, and then Arthur burst back into the bedroom.

'Oh, you're awake,' he said, running a hand through his hair.

'Feel pretty good as well,' Merlin said. 'Look,' and he stood up with a deliberately overstated flourish, walked over to Arthur, and took his hands.

'Was that the dig in Spain you were talking about a few weeks back?' Merlin asked.

'You heard then?' Arthur said. 'Yes it was.'

'You should go.'

'You heard what I said; you're not well enough.'

Something flared up in Merlin's chest, and he wasn't sure if it was Arthur's concern or the fact that he'd referred to him as his boyfriend.

'I'm much better now,' Merlin said. 'In a few days I reckon I'll be back at work. Go.'

Arthur stared back at him, his mouth set. 'It's too risky,' he said.

Hating himself for what he was just about to resort to, but knowing that going on the trip would be good for Arthur in ways that he couldn't provide for him, he caught his gaze and smiled. 'Please?' he said. 'I'll be fine.'

Arthur glared, and then his face relaxed into an uncertain smile. 'You'd better be in full working order by the time I get back,' he said.

Merlin grinned. 'I can guarantee it,' he said.

'Just one more thing,' Merlin said, later that evening. Arthur had been out for most of the day. He'd picked Uther up from the hospital and taken him back to Morgana's, then stopped by the Pendragon house to pack but, to Merlin's private delight, had insisted he was picked up from Merlin's.

'What's that?' said Arthur, his face and neck red from where Merlin had pressed him against the doorframe minutes earlier.

'These,' said Merlin, jangling a set of keys in front of his face. 'I want to see you as soon as you get back. Come straight over. I don't want to waste any more time.'

Arthur still looked ridiculously pleased when, minutes later, he opened the door to let Gareth in, and Merlin was especially smug in the knowledge that the pinkness that was spreading across his face would more than likely last all the way to the airport.

~~~

With Arthur gone, Merlin was fully expecting two weeks of hell, and his appraisal of the situation was not far off the mark. He missed Arthur so much that sometimes it felt like a physical ache, and more than once he wished he hadn't insisting that Arthur go, especially when the alternative was that they might be busy discovering the joys of mid- or, indeed, post-coital bliss. Instead, when his heart wasn't making his entire body hurt, his imagination was making very specific parts of it throb and strain against his clothes, and after a couple of days, he had taken to wearing baggier clothes and, when things got really bad, making sure he had a bag, or folder, or something handy to position over himself.

Still, it was much easier than the time when they'd been fighting and hardly spoken at all, when Merlin had been caught between anger that had simmered, unexpressed, for years, and terror that they might lose each other again. At least now they could talk if they wanted to, and they wanted to very much.

Merlin had taken the first important steps towards trusting Arthur, and more specifically him and Arthur, and even though it was wrenchingly frustrating at times, he was relieved that Arthur's absence hadn't meant his vulnerability run wild in the way he feared it might. He even started to feel more at ease accepting how good things were between them, rather than pushing it to the back of his mind in case it went wrong. It seemed that it might be that way with Arthur too. Merlin felt warm at the memory of how unselfconsciously he'd introduced him to his assistant, Gareth, with a casual, but protective arm wrapped around his waist.

That was not to say that Merlin didn't worry about anything at all. Arthur wasn't freaking out about his magic, but those concerns had been quickly replaced with a growing conviction that he might freak out about Merlin's health. They had been speaking a lot over the phone, and he could tell from Arthur's utter lack of subtlety that he was still uneasy about having gone away.

After two days of I don't think you should risk too much exertion and I think you should start taking aspirin, just in case, Merlin had had enough. He hated that Arthur was so worried, especially as he felt fine. He was back at work, he was taking it easy, but more than anything, it was the silent, implied possibility that Arthur might still think that sex was too risky on his return that had done it. As far as Merlin was concerned, that was not an option, so he needed to figure out how to prove he really was okay.

It hadn't taken much to book a private appointment with a cardiologist. Having prepared an elaborate story, in the event it had taken only a few words about family members and misdiagnosed heart conditions - mostly true - and assurances that he was more than able to pay, he had an appointment booked for the coming Tuesday. Hopefully, after that, he would be able to set Arthur's mind at rest.

Late on Tuesday afternoon, Merlin walked down the steps outside the private hospital, pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Arthur.

'Merlin!' said Arthur, a few rings later, then, with an edge of worry to his voice, 'is everything okay?'

'Yeah, fine. Guess what?'

'What?'

'I just went and got my heart checked out and everything's fine. What do you have to say about that?'

'By a proper doctor?'

'No, Arthur, by a man at the market with magic beans and a fucking crystal ball. Of course by a proper doctor. A cardiologist. Honestly.'

'And they're sure?' Arthur said.

'Pretty much. I've always had a slightly iffy heartbeat, but that's been there since I was little. They're going to keep an eye on it now, though, just in case.'

There was a pause, and Merlin half-expected Arthur to come out with another half-arsed excuse to keep away from him, but instead all he heard was a soft, barely audible exhalation at the end of the line, which might have been exasperation or, equally, relief.

'So,' Merlin said, 'what do you think? And I should probably point out that anything other than 'I will no longer be refusing to put out' is an unacceptable response.'

'You went and saw a cardiologist just because of that?'

'No stupid, I went to see one because of you. You were worried, and I wanted to set your mind at rest,' said Merlin, starting to flounder, and attract stares from passersby, 'Arthur, I couldn't think of what else to do so ---'

'Merlin,' Arthur said, but he sounded less guarded, 'that's brilliant news. And,' his voice took on a far more mischievous tone, 'you know what it means don't you?'

'Um. Time to reinforce the bed frame?'

'That as well. I was mainly thinking you'd better get yourself to Boots and pick up some supplies.'

'Good thing I saved up my Advantage Card points.'

'Good thing you did. Looks like they're just about to take a hammering.'

'Play your cards right and it's not the only thing that'll be taking a ---'

' --- yes, Gareth,' said Arthur, who had been interrupted by some background talk, 'I'll be there in a second. Merlin, I'll call you back later. Remember: Boots.''

Once he got off the train, Merlin didn't waste any time following Arthur's advice, and headed into town.

It wasn't exactly sexy or glamorous, queuing up with grannies and school kids, with a shopping basket that advertised exactly what you thought you'd be getting up to that night, or in Merlin's case, in about a week and a half. He was, he decided, as he queued somewhat less than patiently, more of a fan of the conspiratorial winks from the grannies than the hastily hushed squawks of the kids, but mercifully he was distracted about half-way through by the sense that someone with magic was in the Mall. He'd described that feeling to Arthur before, and though part of him itched to get out of the shop and try to find them, he knew from past experience that they'd be long gone or if they were still there, they would be impossible to locate in amongst everyone else. He sighed, attracting a confused look from the elderly lady ahead of him in the queue.

'Cheer up love,' she said. 'At least you've got something lined up for tonight.'

Merlin forced a grin, and reminded himself that it would be worth it. When he finally got to the counter, he could still sense magic close by, and was just about to try and figure out the direction it was coming from, when he heard a familiar voice from the till beside him.

'Merlin?'

He turned and saw Morgana and Alice who were, by the looks of things, buying an assortment of haircare products and vitamin supplements. Morgana's eyes drifted to Merlin's basket, and raised an eyebrow.

'Well,' she said, fighting a grin. 'I hope you're going to respect my brother in the morning.'

He was pretty sure Arthur didn't have any control over the fact that the entire world wanted to scrutinise and comment on his purchases, but he was probably going to kill him anyway.

'Course I am,' he said, as they finished paying and headed out of the shop. 'I'm going to make him breakfast and everything.'

'Glad to hear it,' Morgana said. She was still smiling, but he caught a hint of protectiveness in her voice, and realised that she would most likely have been the one to pick up the pieces after he and Arthur had split before, pieces he had only recently found out had been broken.

'Got time for a coffee?' he asked.

'Cake too?' Alice chipped in.

'Why not?' Morgana said.

Merlin and Alice sat in the plastic seats while Morgana sorted out food and drinks. He hadn't spent much time with the little girl since the meal at Uther's house, but having her there in front of him reminded him of the strange business with the water fight.

'Alice,' he said, unsure of how to talk to a four year old, and equally unsure of what he was going to say, and there it was again, that unmistakeable flare of magic.

'Are you better now? After making Grandad better?' she asked, taking a couple of the carnations out of the vase in the middle of the table. Most had flowered, but a few hadn't opened yet.

'Erm.' Merlin said, not quite ready to acknowledge what he thought was happening. 'It was it was the paramedics and the doctors in the hospital that made him better.'

'But you made him better first,' she said, fixing him with a clear gaze that implied she knew far too much, 'and it made you sick. You're like me, aren't you?'

Merlin considered telling her he'd done nothing of the sort, but he remembered how alone he'd been when he was younger, and how having someone, even a little bit like him, might have made all the difference, and he found that he couldn't quite bring himself to lie to the little girl.

'I am,' he said, smiling, and keeping an eye on Morgana's place in the queue. 'And I'm much better now, thank you.'

Alice smiled back. She picked up the flower from the table and as she looked at it, Merlin felt the faint murmur of magic around Alice change in pitch almost to a roar, and the unopened buds began to flower.

Merlin started at her, speechless. He couldn't remember being capable of anything like this at her age, but then again, he had probably been too interested in trucks and trains to even consider trying.

'Very clever,' he managed, finally.

'I don't tell anyone. It scares them,' Alice said. 'I think it's scary too, sometimes.'

'I don't tell anyone either,' Merlin said, not willing to draw Arthur into it just yet. 'But you told me, and I'm not scared.'

Morgana arrived just as Alice put the flower back in the, and the little girl beamed up at them both. Merlin wasn't sure if her smiles were because of their conversation or the fact that the cake was finally there. Looking at the numerous and varied choices Morgana had made, he wasn't entirely sure what he was more pleased about himself.

~~~

Arthur was just finishing up for the day when he noticed he had a text from Merlin.

Miss you a stupid amount. When you coming back? X

Not soon enough. What you up to now?

Shopping. Just done.

Hope you've got supplies then

Whatever do you mean?

You know exactly what I mean, and you better have done

If you mean condoms and lube, I cleaned Boots out. But not before getting sprung by your sister at the fucking counter.

Tell me that's a joke.

Nope. You'd better be worth it after that.

I can assure you I am xxx

Arthur could hear Gareth calling him and, grinning to himself, he shut his phone. Flirting like this was easy, but Arthur had to admit that if Merlin hadn't been ill the week before he went away, he would have had a hard time psyching himself up to sex. It wasn't that he didn't want it. God no. It was that he really didn't want to fuck it up, and the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that he might.

He knew he was being slightly irrational. On the face of it, his track record was good, and even though he hadn't had many partners, there had been a pretty even split between men and women, so it wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing. Okay, he and Gwen had never really set the world alight - and that was where the bulk of his experience came from - but he was reasonably confident that she'd been well taken care of, until Lance had come along anyway, and he was pretty sure it had been that way with the others, too.

It had been different with Merlin; the little they'd managed to get up to had been more intense, certainly more passionate and, oddly, more personal, than anything that came after it, but he'd come to dismiss it as youthful exuberance. He'd assumed it was something that just wasn't available to him any more.

Taking into account everything that had happened since they'd found each other again, he had started to consider the possibility that sex could be more than a pleasant, though slightly impersonal, exchange. The time he'd nearly given into Merlin in the bathroom, it had taken so much effort to hold himself back that he'd been left shaking afterwards, and even though nothing much had happened, what little had, had so little in common with the well-planned, well-researched, but essentially distant way he'd played things in the past, that now he doubted that the lack of youthful exuberance had anything to do with it at all.

Which was why he was feeling a little nervous about the whole thing. The thought of seeing Merlin again, and being able to touch him, and taste him, and have everything that had been off limits for so long, was both exhilarating and frustrating. He wanted it to be as good as it possibly could be; he loved Merlin more than anything and he deserved nothing less, but it wasn't something he could plan for, or research, or prepare for, and that bothered him. And although he had too much faith in himself and Merlin to back away, it didn't mean that he didn't worry about just a little bit.

Arthur lasted three more days in Spain before anticipation won the war against nerves, and by Friday lunchtime he and Gareth were back in Heathrow, and thankfully through baggage reclaim.

He was relieved to get back onto British soil for two reasons, the main one being Merlin, and the other being the number of small, but distinctly unauthorised, archaeological items he'd brought back with him. He'd known, when he'd agreed to the trip, that he would be working on an ancient settlement and burial ground. What he hadn't known was that so many of the items there would be of a mystical or ritualistic nature. He'd been looking out for digs like these, of course, because of Merlin's interest, and it had become even more important after Arthur had found out exactly why Merlin's interest was more than a passing one, but what he'd found in Spain had taken him by surprise.

Taking items away was more than frowned upon. He had never dreamed of doing it before, so he didn't know exactly what the penalties were, but when he had seen that some of the discoveries were almost identical to what Merlin had shown him, in particular, the artefacts that he said did contain some magic, he hadn't thought twice about it. Merlin was less than upbeat at the best of times when it came to the possibility that he might, one day, be able to make sense of who he was, and though Arthur wasn't in a position to judge him about that, he could see how it set him apart, and he wanted to help in any way he could. Merlin may not have found another person like himself yet, but he had found bits and pieces of evidence here and there, and if the couple of examples Arthur had rolled up in the middle of his suitcase with his clothes might provide any sort of light at the end of the tunnel, then he wasn't going to let it go.

He called Merlin from the airport, and then several times from Gareth's car, but his phone kept going straight to voicemail. It wasn't too much of a cause for concern; he knew from their numerous exchanges over the last few days that Merlin was in an all day meeting somewhere near Warwick, which meant he wasn't likely to be back till the early evening.

By the time Arthur let himself into the apartment, he was grinning stupidly in anticipation at seeing Merlin, and also at the complete fucking state of the place.

'Useless,' he muttered to himself, and said it again, more affectionately, as he caught sight of Merlin's mobile lying on the table, his missed calls flashing up just, it seemed, to underline the point.

He had a few hours until Merlin was back, and since he had no way of getting in contact, he occupied himself with unpacking, putting his washing on, and sorting out the items he had sneaked back with him. Then he emptied the dishwasher, cleared up the apartment and put his clothes in the dryer, after which, he found that he had absolutely nothing left to do, and it was only four-thirty.

Oh well, he thought, making his way to the bathroom, might as well get cleaned up.

He heard the soft rain start just as he stepped into the shower.

Even though Merlin had been very clear that he wanted Arthur to come over immediately on his return, he felt a bit awkward about it, as he hadn't been able to get hold of him yet. He did, at least, know that Merlin was only about an hour's drive away, so it wouldn't be too long until he got home, and despite his nerves, Arthur felt a thrill of anticipation that they would be able to be with one another without anything else in their way.

He relaxed under the hot spray, and reached out for the shower gel without even having to look for it. Everything here was so familiar now. In the short time he had spent with Merlin after he had healed Uther, they had built up an easy sense of familiarity that had barely been there with Gwen. Back then, Arthur hadn't realised things could be different; although he and Merlin had shared the same ease when they had first known one another, Arthur had dismissed that as part and parcel of being a student, but he had been wrong. It had been part and parcel of being Arthur and Merlin, and it was exactly how he wanted things to be.

~~~

Arthur had just finished towelling himself off when he heard a key in the door.

'Merlin?' he said, pulling on a bathrobe, his heart already starting to pound in his chest.

Merlin was standing at the end of the hallway by the door frame, staring at him as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. Caught in the rain, tiny droplets of water clung to his hair and face and glasses, and entirely covered his suit which, in some distant part of his mind, Arthur noted was incredibly well-fitted. A half-delighted, half-demented grin spread slowly across Merlin's face, and he started to walk towards Arthur, his pace quickening the closer he got.

'Came back early. Couldn't get you on your phone ---'

Arthur's explanation was cut short as Merlin reached him, the momentum such that they both went crashing to the ground, only narrowly avoiding a collision with the wall.

Arthur grinned up at Merlin. 'Good evening,' he said.

'Good evening yourself,' said Merlin. The lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled; he moved in to kiss Arthur, gentle and so unhurried at first that he could feel each moist brush of their lips, and then the slightly rougher friction of Merlin's tongue as he licked tentatively into Arthur's mouth. Merlin, his hands buried in Arthur's hair, the confident, intuitive press of his hips; all of it had the immediate effect of obliterating Arthur's remaining self-control, and their reunion took a more desperate, wilder, almost savage turn.

Arthur pushed back, the sudden shift of his hips extracting a long, drawn-out moan from Merlin as he pressed them more tightly together. He didn't care that their teeth scraped and the frame of Merlin's glasses were digging into the side of his nose. The only coherent thought left in his mind was that right now, despite their awkward landing, lying on Merlin's hallway floor with the distinct possibility of his brains being fucked out in the near future, wasn't bad at all.

'Bedroom,' said Merlin, voicing the one improvement that could have been made to the existing scenario. He stood, hauled Arthur up by both hands and, not letting go, walked them backwards, kicking the door open as he went.

After their brief tussle on the floor, Merlin's hair was sticking up wildly at all angles, his glasses askew, cheeks flushed and still damp from the rain outside. Arthur thought he had never seen him look so bewitching.

'Thought you weren't back for another week,' said Merlin, guiding Arthur towards the bed, one hand tugging the belt of his bathrobe loose. 'When did you get here?'

'Couple of hours ago,' Arthur said, taking Merlin's glasses off and placing them on the bedside table, then moving onto his tie. 'I couldn't wait any longer.'

Merlin leaned forward and kissed him again, the pressure of his wet lips intoxicating. 'You missed me,' Merlin murmured into his mouth, and though he was teasing, there was a trace of vulnerability there that made it more question than statement.

'I couldn't stand it,' Arthur said, moving back so Merlin could look at him and see that he was telling the truth. He traced a reverent thumb over the arch of Merlin's eyebrow, and then dragged the backs of his fingers over the curve of his cheek, so he could feel the warm blush growing there. 'I hated being away from you.'

'Glad to hear it,' Merlin whispered, but instead of diving back in for another kiss, he stood and looked at Arthur, as if he was waiting for him to make the next move.

Arthur was only too happy to oblige him. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, helped him shrug it off, and slipped his arms around Merlin's warm, pale skin, one hand around his waist, the other drifting up to his neck, to tangle in his hair.

Maybe this was what he'd been avoiding, because when skin touched skin, when chests, and arms, and hips met, the sensation was almost beyond what he could bear. As they leaned into one another, Arthur was consumed by warmth, and taut skin and Merlin. A shock ran through him at this new way of touching. He heard his breathing become rapid, felt his heart race, his blood rising and rushing to the surface of his skin, and the unmistakeable sensation of goosebumps all over his already over-sensitised body, and he wanted more of it.

Arthur shrugged his bathrobe off and sat down on the edge of the bed. Merlin went to sit alongside him, but Arthur placed a hand on his hip to still him.

'What?' said Merlin.

'These,' Arthur said, his hands going to the front of his suit trousers, his eyes drawn immediately to the unmistakeable evidence of Merlin's arousal. As his final items of clothing dropped to the ground, the friction of cloth against skin, and the gentle brush of Arthur's fingers against Merlin's cock elicited a small, involuntary moan from them both.

'You have to touch me. Please,' said Merlin, moving closer.

Arthur leaned back and pulled Merlin with him, and they both tangled lazily together. Arthur was consumed by sensation: the weight of Merlin's body trembling over him was driving him close to the edge. He was mesmerised by each nuance: of skin touching skin; of how easily his hand slid between them; how Merlin's breath caught as Arthur started to stroke him; how he gasped and strained for more.

'Jesus fucking Christ I need you,' Merlin hissed as Arthur tightened his fingers. He sat up and reached over to his bedside table, opened the drawer and after a considerable amount of scrabbling around, pulled out condoms and lube, and presented them to Arthur with a mock-flourish.

'What’s the matter?’ he asked, seeing Arthur hesitate.

Arthur leaned up on his elbows, his embarrassment obvious in the flush of his cheeks. ‘Might be a bit nervous,’ he muttered. ‘I'm probably over-thinking it. It's not like I haven't done this before. A lot. Well, maybe not that much, but, well, you know what I mean. Enough.'

'So ----?' Merlin said.

'So ...' Arthur said. If he'd had time, he might have prepared a speech, a clever argument to articulate this strange combination of excitement and reticence, but all he had to fall back on right now was the truth. 'So this is different; I want you so badly I can hardly think.’

Merlin looked pressed a finger to his lips. He picked Arthur's hands up and cradled them in his. ‘Arthur,’ he said, ‘Sweetheart. Just lie down.’

'This isn't about getting it right,' Merlin said, as they lay side by side in the fading, late-afternoon light, thigh touching thigh, belly touching belly. 'It's about you and me. It's about learning.' He paused, and let his fingers sweep down the length of Arthur's body, and when he spoke again his voice was stronger and surer, and lent Arthur invincibility even as he was being laid completely open. 'I want to know everything,' Merlin said, letting his hand wrap loosely around Arthur's cock. 'I want how you like to be touched, I want to know how you like to kiss, how you like to fuck. I want to know how you like to be fucked.'

Arthur made a quiet, strangled noise, but Merlin was there to stroke his back, calming him, kissing his neck and collarbone, murmuring encouragements and whispering his name over and over.

This wasn't the last piece of the puzzle, Arthur realised, it wasn't the last of the points that would connect them, this slow-turning revolution from almost strangers to friends to soul mates and then, finally, lovers again, peeling back layer by layer as they went, but it had its own sense of alignment nonetheless.

There were mappings and remappings. Exclamations of surprise at new scars, new places and sensitivities, and pleasure in the rediscovery of old ones. Arthur found that the responsive spots behind Merlin's ankles and his knees were still fully functional, and was bordering on smug about it until Merlin started to run his tongue over his hip and then bite gently on the flesh there, leaving Arthur almost without a thought in his head.

‘Don't think you're getting away with this,’ he said, as Merlin finally relented and sat back with a serious, almost business-like expression on his face, foil wrapper in hand. ‘You are so fucked, Emrys.’

‘Well and truly,’ Merlin agreed, his eyes flashing as Arthur helped him roll a condom on. He pushed one of Arthur's legs up, and getting nothing but a growl of encouragement, slid a very wet finger inside him, 'and so are you.'

'Is this right?' Merlin asked, adding another finger, his voice barely a whisper. Arthur nodded as he stretched him slowly, moving deeper, increasing the pressure in tender, well-anticipated increments. When he twisted his fingers a fraction, Arthur groaned his assent and arched helplessly, reaching down with his own hand to guide Merlin to the right spot, over and over again.

'Merlin,' Arthur breathed, when it became too little and too much for both of them, and Merlin removed his fingers carefully. Arthur blinked up at him, and the openness and trust and need that he saw in Merlin's eyes was reflected his own, exactly. He nodded at Merlin, and hooked a leg around him, guiding him forward, shivering pleasantly as Merlin covered his body again, and then pushed inside him with one slow, smooth motion.

Merlin stilled. He looked down at Arthur, at how tightly he was stretched around his cock and, almost curiously, brought his hand down and stroked the taut, glistening skin with the pad of his thumb.

'Holy fuck, Merlin,' Arthur gasped, pushing himself up harder. When their eyes met again, the connection was almost too raw to bear, more intimate, even, than the feel of Merlin pushing through his tightly resisting flesh, or the sound of both their gasps as felt himself open up.

'You ... you feel ... you feel ...' Merlin hissed, and Arthur felt the first slow, measured thrust and the second and third.

'Merlin,' Arthur said, and pressed a hand to Merlin's chest to feel the frantic, hurried beating of his heart. 'Slower. Please. It's ... it's too ...'

Merlin stopped again. 'Too much?' he said, his breathing ragged. He stroked Arthur's face until they both regained a little control, and then rolled his hips very slightly again.

It was too much. Perhaps it shouldn't have been. It wasn’t as if they were young, as if it was their first time, as if they didn’t know what to do, or what to expect. But that was the problem, Arthur realised, with making predictions, with working to a set of rules, with trying to keep things safe. With him and Merlin it simply didn't work like that.

At first it was slow; maddening, agonising, but necessarily so. The newness replaced the familiarity that had built up between them in a way that they hadn't quite anticipated, but then Merlin slid his hand under the small of Arthur's back and, without thinking, Arthur placed a light, firm hand on Merlin's hip to steady him, and it was as if their bodies remembered one another, and after that, there was no holding back.

The pace moved from slow to demanding to almost brutal. Arthur found his legs pushed wider apart, one hooked over Merlin's shoulder; he tilted his hips to allow as much of Merlin to slam into him as the limits of his body would allow. Everything coalesced into sensation and instinct, into sound, smell, touch, the scrape of nails against skin, teeth against lips, the desperate flex of over-used muscles, exhausted, but needing more.

In the end it took a stuttering, uncontrolled twist of Merlin's hips, a sobbing, unsuppressed moan as Arthur tightened around him, their eyes to meet and widen and soften, for Arthur to let go. Merlin held him all the way through it, never breaking their gaze; he let Arthur buck his hips and tear at his back, whisper his name and all the other secret things he hadn't yet had a chance to say, and then with just a couple of long, almost painful thrusts, Arthur felt Merlin's whole body go rigid, and pulse deep, deep inside of him, and finally, Merlin was there too.

They lay forehead to forehead, eyes staring, blinking, fingers wrapped so tightly in each other's hair that it almost hurt, heartbeats mismatched and erratic, breathing open-mouthed, almost panting, whispering nonsense.

Kissing messily, they both began to come down and when, finally, they were both still, Arthur grinned and ruffled Merlin's hair. He pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, and rolled his hips a little, for no other reason than it just felt good. Merlin, sleepy-eyed, made an Mmmmm sound and, still inside Arthur, pushed back in return.

Arthur was dozing off when he felt the indistinct burn of Merlin carefully pulling out of him. Once he'd disposed of the condom, he settled back in Arthur's arms the way he used to do, years before, his back against Arthur's chest. Arthur took the opportunity to scatter kisses along the top of his spine and trace his fingers, and then his mouth, along the lines of Merlin's tattoo before pulling him back so they fitted together again.

'I can feel your heartbeat when we're like this,' Merlin said, a little later. 'I always could.'

Arthur tightened his arms around him, wanting to tell him that he could remember that too, but instead he pressed a kiss into the back of his neck and said: 'What's for dinner?'

'Hey,' said Merlin, too sleepy to fully protest. 'You're the one who cooks.'

'I'm a guest,' said Arthur, 'I shouldn't have to.'

Merlin rolled away so he lay on his back, and stretched out, a shameless invitation, in Arthur's opinion.

'Do you need an incentive?' he asked, arching an eyebrow, shortly before Arthur dived at him.

When they next thought about food, it was much, much later, and the best they could manage was toast, cups of tea and biscuits.

'Your kitchen is woefully inadequate,' Arthur remarked, settling back into bed and pulling the covers around them.

'You're complaining, but you're happy to get crumbs all over the sheets?' said Merlin, sipping his tea, his head resting against Arthur's shoulder. 'There's something wrong there.'

'Oh, clearly, ' said Arthur, resting his chin on Merlin's head, and breathing in the scent of his hair, spicy-sweet, with a lingering trace of rainwater. Merlin moved closer, settling in, and made a soft, blissful noise that was so like the sound he'd made a few hours earlier, when Arthur had pushed into him for the first time, that he had to close his eyes for a few seconds to compose himself.

They were both sleepy, but not ready to sleep, at ease, but not quite sated, so they sat, talking softly together, occasionally pausing to set cups and plates aside, but moving back quickly, never wanting to be more than a few inches apart for long.

'Don't go to sleep,' said Arthur, after one very elongated silence; he'd become distracted by the moonlight stretching through the windows and across Merlin's long, pale arms. 'I've got something to show you.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Not that sort of something,' Arthur said. 'I brought a few things back from the dig. They're supposed to have been used in magic rituals; I thought you might be interested.'

'Let's have a look then,' said Merlin, sitting up and hunting around for his glasses. Arthur pulled on his discarded bathrobe and found his backpack. He placed it on a small table next to two glass doors that opened out onto a tiny balcony, just large enough for a couple of chairs and a bird feeder.

Arthur took out a few pieces from his backpack, set them on the table and went to open the doors to let some air in.

'I can't remember this glass being cracked before,' he said, spying a couple of shards outside.

'Ah,' said Merlin. 'Yes. I might have got a bit carried away earlier. Your fault, really.'

They looked around the room, and on closer inspection, from the overturned chairs, slightly askew picture frames and clothes spilling out everywhere, it seemed quite a few other things had fallen victim to Merlin's momentary loss of control of his magic, too. Actually, Arthur wasn't entirely sure that the clothes hadn't been that way already, but he'd definitely straightened up the pictures when he'd been here last.

'So,' said Merlin, quickly changing the subject, 'I'm kind of assuming you shouldn't have taken these?' He sat down and peered at Arthur, who just that moment noticed how appealing Merlin looked when dressed in nothing but glasses and pyjama shorts.

'Not even slightly,' he admitted. 'But it's nothing important, to the dig anyway. And, well, I thought it might be, to you.'

'Arthur,' said Merlin, and took a closer look at a carved fragment of stone. 'What if someone caught you?'

Arthur shrugged. 'It's not fair you know hardly anything about your magic. I just thought, well, there's got to be something out there, some explanation. It's probably just a matter of keeping on looking until we find it.'

'We find it?' Merlin said. 'You and me?'

'Well, yeah,' Arthur said. 'I thought maybe ... we could ... unless you don't want to, of course.'

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, and Arthur couldn't tell if he was pleased or not.

'Have I done something wrong?' he asked. 'Should I back off?'

Merlin shook his head. 'No,' he said, sounding a little choked. 'This is great. Unexpected, but great.'

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back as Merlin continued to look thoughtfully at the fragment he held in his hand. He picked up two other pieces from the random collection in front of them and fitted them together in his hand to form an oval shape.

He turned to Arthur, smiling widely. 'I think we might have something here,' he said. 'It looks like an amulet.'

'Do you know if it's magical?'

'I definitely get a sense of ... something ... from it,' he said, his face lighting up with excitement.

Arthur leaned forward for a closer look. 'Those carvings are words,' he said, now that he could see the stone in its entirety. 'It's Latin.'

'Okay,' Merlin said, 'I'm not quite sure what this is going to do but ...'

Just as Arthur said, 'Merlin, careful, it says something about sleep,' the air pulsed around them, the stones glowed gold, and their aura extended through the crack in the glass doors to the balcony outside.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then a pigeon which had been hopping idly on top of the bird feeder squawked suddenly, and fell to the ground.

'Shit,' said Merlin. 'That'll be a sleep charm, then.'

'Good thing you didn't direct it at us, eh?' said Arthur, shaking his head, and wondering whether Merlin's instinct for self-preservation would ever kick in. They both peered through the glass to check if the bird was okay. It had started moving again, but as it hopped off in search of safer food sources, it didn't look particularly pleased.

'Um,' said Merlin, quickly putting the pieces back with the others. 'I might just leave this one for now. Well, until we know a bit more anyway,' he said, and reached over to cover Arthur's hands with his own. 'You and I, I mean.'

'Good idea,' said Arthur feeling something else slide into place. 'I was thinking about going back to bed anyway.'

~~~

The next morning Merlin woke first, but since he was still firmly pressed against Arthur and, he imagined, probably stuck to him as well, he was content to lie back and enjoy the closeness and warmth and how easily they fitted together.

Merlin had always assumed the fact that he loved Arthur to be something immovable, something he couldn't do anything about, that just was. Recently, though, he'd been learning more about why he loved him.

No one had ever dropped everything for him before, but when he'd been ill, Arthur had, without a second thought.

He hadn't needed to accept Merlin's magic, or the choices he'd made. In fact, Merlin had almost been prepared never to mention it again, if things had gone badly, but he'd underestimated Arthur there, too. He understood, and better than that, he wanted all of Merlin in the same way as Merlin wanted all of him, even the bossy, overbearing bits. He wanted Merlin to be no less than who he was. The funny thing was, Arthur was the only person that Merlin would have even considered changing for.

Merlin shifted slightly to get a better look at sleeping Arthur. He was snoring slightly, his lips were red and still slightly abraded, and his neck and chest and collarbone had taken a bit of a beating too. Merlin couldn't help grinning at the knowledge that he bore sole responsibility for each and every one of those marks.

Luckily, before Merlin's musings turned more sentimental, Arthur chose to open his eyes. He blinked at Merlin. 'You shouldn't be awake. It's against the fundamental laws of the universe, surely?'

Merlin burrowed back next to him. 'I didn't say anything about getting up,' he said.

Merlin did, finally, get up, but only after several hours, and substantial coercion to stay from Arthur, which was mostly successful. Leaving Arthur blissfully asleep, he moved off the bed, feeling a pleasant ache in his limbs and all the way up his back every time he moved.

He showered, and soon after that, was in the kitchen, wrapped up in warm, loose clothes, making pancakes and coffee, and pouring juice. He smiled to himself as he went back through selected highlights from the night before, becoming so lost in his recollections that he didn't notice Arthur walk up behind him, until he felt him slide his arms around his waist.

'You're awake then?' Merlin said, turning to study Arthur's face for traces of uncertainty. He had been wondering if he might clam up, that they'd been too intimate and he'd want to back off from it, but he found no such thing.

'Seems I am,' Arthur said. He'd showered and put on some pyjamas. 'Nice to see you're making sure we keep our strength up.'

They sat side by side on the sofa, eating pancakes and drinking coffee and chatting easily, leaning into one another as much as they could, without needing to acknowledge or justify why they were doing it. Merlin smiled at Arthur a little hesitantly.

'Everything okay?' Arthur asked. 'You look adorable in my shirt, by the way.'

'You are so soppy,' Merlin teased, and kissed him lightly on the lips before feeding him a sugary piece of pancake.

'You call me sweetheart all the time,' Arthur said. 'I should be allowed an adorable now and again.'

'That's completely different, and it's not all the time,' said Merlin. Overcome, unexpectedly, with something that was too huge to put a name to, he looked away, blinking rapidly.

'So what is it then?' Arthur asked.

'Sometimes I wish there hadn't been all those years in between,' Merlin said, after a long pause.

'I feel that too, sometimes,' Arthur said. He set his coffee down and placed his hands over Merlin's, 'but we're different now; maybe we needed to be.'

Merlin nodded. If last night was anything to go by, it was more than likely that they would be catching up in full anyway. 'Probably,' he said, thinking about how much they'd shared, and how much they still had to share, and learn, and discover about each other. 'It's not like I ever stopped loving you, but maybe we like each other better now.'

When Arthur grinned back at him and leant in to kiss a few grains of sugar away from the corner of his mouth, Merlin knew, without asking, that he was in complete agreement.

Part Seven