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Merlin wakes up cozy and warm, as he does most mornings.
After all, Leon’s bed is very cozy, and Leon himself is very warm. He’s draped along Merlin’s back, his arm loose around Merlin’s waist. Merlin snuggles back into him, trying to make his movements as small and unnoticeable as possible.
In three months of dating and almost as long of bedsharing, he has not once managed to get Leon to skive off work and sleep in with him, but maybe today will finally be the day.
“Nice try. I’m already awake.” Leon’s amused voice isn’t much louder than a whisper, but he’s close enough to Merlin’s ear that Merlin hears him perfectly.
“What if we just went back to sleep, though?” Merlin mumbles.
“Then I’d miss getting to start my day with you.” Leon easily rolls Merlin over to kiss him, and even though the movement lets cool fall air into their warm nest of blankets, Merlin can’t be too grumpy when he’s being kissed into proper wakefulness.
With a last peck on Merlin’s lips, Leon pushes himself out of bed. Merlin sighs mournfully, but follows.
Although staying in bed with Leon would be preferable, starting the day with him is also pretty good. Merlin gets his clothes out of his drawer in Leon's dresser. In some ways it seems fast, already having a drawer and spending almost all his nights at Leon's. But they'd figured out pretty quickly that, with both of them having minimal free time, this was the only way they'd make sure to see each other regularly. And once that was decided, Merlin obviously needed storage space.
Once they’re dressed, they sit down to breakfast. As usual, it's a simple porridge made in Leon's hearth, because if they got food from the servants, the gossip about their private relationship would be all over the castle in a matter of minutes.
Over breakfast, Merlin asks about Leon’s plans for the day, and has to remind himself to eat and not just stare heart-eyed at Leon as he answers. (Merlin does not have any especial interest in training regimes for Camelot’s newest batch of knights-to-be, but training the youngsters is one of Leon’s favourite parts of his work, and Merlin loves the way he lights up when he talks about it.)
Leon nudges him. “What about you? Any plans?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” Merlin says, vaguely waving a hand.
"Your ‘usual’ ranges from intentionally being the worst manservant Camelot has ever seen, to saving Arthur's life by committing treason in front of him and hoping he doesn't notice,” Leon says. “Please be more specific.”
Merlin beams at him. It’s so nice that Leon knows his biggest secret and doesn’t care. Well, to be more accurate, obviously he cares. He’d had a lot of questions when Merlin had healed an almost-fatal knife wound and brought him back from the brink of death. But he’d believed Merlin’s promises that he would never, ever betray Arthur, and he’d kept Merlin’s secret. And while Merlin still has nightmares about watching that dagger go into Leon’s chest, he’s also weirdly grateful for it, because it means he doesn’t have to hide anything from Leon.
Leon's eyebrows are raised, reminding Merlin that he’s waiting for a response.
“Today, I’m planning to just be a mediocre manservant,” Merlin says. “Unless Arthur manages to provoke the wrong person, which is unfortunately always a possibility.”
*
Merlin whistles as he puts Arthur’s breakfast down on his table. He throws open the curtains; it’s rainy and gray outside, which does not dampen his mood in the slightest. He turns to beam at Arthur, who narrows his eyes.
Or, Merlin wonders optimistically, maybe he’s squinting because he’s just woken up?
No, that’s definitely his suspicious look.
“Out with it,” Arthur says. “What’s gotten into you lately? You’re all… smiley.”
“Should I not be smiley?” Merlin asks, smiling.
Arthur sits up in bed. “It has been raining for a week. Normally at this point you’re whinging about how leaky your room is and how all the old people for miles are coming to complain to Gaius about how their old bones hurt.”
“Oh, right,” Merlin says, guiltily. Gaius is probably getting overwhelmed, now that Merlin has all but moved out and is no longer around to pitch in. He’d mentioned hiring a proper apprentice, but Merlin doesn’t think he’s gotten around to it yet. “Maybe I should go ask Gaius if he needs a hand.”
Arthur’s eyes narrow further. “Why didn’t you ask him this morning, when you must have seen him on your way out?”
“Ah, must have just missed him.”
“Missed him every day this week?” Arthur swings himself out of bed and stalks over to Merlin. “Where have you been sleeping, Merlin?”
“Er,” Merlin says.
Arthur crosses his arms and looms.
“I might be, um, dating someone?” Merlin squeaks out. “Only we aren’t telling people about it yet.”
“Why not?” Arthur asks. Then he groans. “Merlin, are you sleeping with a noble? Because I am not going to be happy if I have to defend you from some lady’s father when he comes after you for deflowering his daughter.”
“Er,” Merlin says, which isn’t quite a no.
“Are you actually?” Arthur demands, sounding half-impressed and half-horrified.
“I mean, yes, sort of? That is, I’m dating a noble, but he’s nobody’s daughter.”
“Ah,” Arthur says. “Well, that’s better, then. At least, you’re less likely to start some sort of incident that way. Although I’m sure you could still manage it. Spill, then, who is he?”
“We’re really not telling people,” Merlin tries desperately.
Arthur rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to care, Merlin.”
Merlin rolls his eyes back, because firstly, Arthur very clearly does care; in fact, their entire morning has been derailed because of how much he cares. And secondly, if he knew it was Leon, Arthur would definitely have opinions.
Merlin’s not sure what they would be. But he’d have them.
Arthur tilts his head. “What’s that face for? Would I care? Is it someone I know?”
Merlin refuses to answer, but Arthur can tell that he’s hit on something, and he’s not giving up.
“Are you dating one of my knights? Wait, is that why I found you and Leon in the stables together last week, covered in hay?”
Merlin’s blush has already given him away, he knows, so he admits, “Yes, that may have had something to do with it.”
Arthur gapes at him. Despite having made the guess, he apparently did not expect Merlin to confirm it. “Leon?” he repeats, disbelievingly.
Merlin’s not sure on whose behalf he’s insulted, his own or his boyfriend’s, but Arthur’s incredulity definitely seems like an insult to someone.
“Yes,” he says, crossing his arms. “So?”
“Huh,” Arthur says. “You and Leon! Leon and… you. How did that even happen?”
“Well, we’ve always spent plenty of time together, thanks to you and your training and your quests and your hunting trips. And he’s…” Merlin smiles, sappily, thinking back to the time they’d spent getting close: first quiet conversations as Merlin cooked dinner on hunting trips or as Leon waited his turn on the training grounds, and later (once they’d realized how much they enjoyed each other’s company) grabbing dinner together or just strolling through the streets of Camelot. And then, the sudden realization that Leon’s smile made Merlin’s heart beat faster, and that Merlin could no longer look at his floppy curly hair without wanting to run his fingers through it and push it away from his face and lean up for a kiss, and—
He realizes Arthur’s still waiting for him to finish his sentence. He clears his throat.
“Er. He’s kind, and we understand each other, and I know he’s a good man,” Merlin says. “And I really, really like him.”
“Huh,” Arthur repeats. “And he likes you?”
Arthur’s lucky there’s nothing nearby that Merlin could throw at him. “You don’t have to sound so surprised about it!”
“You can’t keep your relationship a secret and then act like it shouldn’t be a surprise!”
Merlin pauses to consider that, then allows, “Okay, fair.”
“You and Leon,” Arthur repeats. “Huh.”
Merlin’s pretty sure he’s going to be saying that over and over again, all day. He sighs.
*
Merlin, fortunately, manages to find Leon before Arthur does. Barely.
“Arthur knows about us,” he hisses.
“I thought we’d gotten away with the stable thing.”
“We did. Only he just sort of started asking questions, and…” Merlin shrugs, helplessly.
“And you’re terrible at keeping secrets.” Leon nods. “Well, mostly. How did he take it, then?”
“Very surprised,” Merlin says. “Insultingly surprised. I haven’t figured out which one of us should be insulted yet, but I’ll keep you posted.”
Arthur comes around the corner, then, calling out, “Merlin, where have you—oh.”
He freezes in his tracks, his mouth falling open in surprise. His eyes are comically wide, looking between the two of them. “...Leon.”
“Sire,” Leon says, respectfully, even as he gives Merlin a look that says, I see what you mean.
There’s a long, awkward silence as Arthur just stares at them. Leon’s face morphs into something that asks, Oh, he’s going to be fun to deal with today, isn’t he?
“I’d better head down to the training grounds,” Leon says finally. (Aloud, not just with his face.) “I’ll see you there,” he tells Arthur, and makes his escape, ruffling Merlin’s hair affectionately on the way by.
Arthur keeps gaping.
*
Arthur continues to be incredibly weird with Merlin all day.
“It wasn’t just you,” Leon confirms, as they’re getting ready for bed that night. “He was being odd.”
(Normally, Merlin wants to note, their bedtime conversations are much more romantic, or at least much less focused on Arthur. But today Arthur was just too weird.)
“He kept giving me the most perplexed looks. Like I’m beyond all comprehension,” Merlin complains.
“Precisely. And he kept starting to ask me questions and then stopping.” Leon frowns. “I’m not sure I want to know what they were, honestly.”
“I don’t see why it’s such a surprise,” Merlin says. “I mean, I know we kept it a secret, but he has to know we like each other, right? Does he not remember the time we forgot to wake up the next watch, because we were talking all night long?”
Leon nods. “Or the months I spent teaching you to fight, so you would stop getting hurt?”
“Yes, he’s pretty dense if he missed how that was just an excuse for you to touch me all the time.” Merlin grins at Leon when he splutters. “And if he’s missed the way you blush when I make fun of you.”
Leon raises his eyebrows. “Or the way you can’t keep your eyes off me when I’m training?”
Merlin, admittedly, has been making a bit more of an effort to be around for the knights’ training lately. Especially the wrestling. “Guilty.”
“And he was definitely there when you fell in a river and then slept in my bedroll so you wouldn’t die of cold,” Leon adds. “Does he think I’d cuddle just anyone?”
“You’d better not,” Merlin says.
“To be fair, even if he is oblivious, he is doing right by you. He did warn me that if I ever hurt you, I’d have to answer to him.”
“I guess that’s nice.”
“Although entirely unnecessary, of course.”
“Yeah,” Merlin says, grinning. “I could take you easily myself.”
Leon gently swats his shoulder. “I meant, because I’d never hurt you. You could not.”
“Oh?” Merlin asks. “Watch me.”
Leon laughs as Merlin tackles him onto the bed. Thanks to a combination of Merlin’s momentum and the fact that Leon actually knows how to wrestle, this almost immediately ends with Leon on top of him, raising his eyebrows and teasing, “You were saying?”
Merlin calls forth his magic and flips them over with supernatural strength. He looks down at Leon with eyes he knows are glowing gold. “Like I said, easy.”
“I can see that.” Leon doesn’t look at all bothered by the fact that he lost their brief tussle; in fact, more the opposite. “Well. Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?”
*
The next morning, Merlin is—for obvious reasons—once again in an excellent mood. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Arthur.
Arthur seems to have gotten over his initial shock, but the surprise appears to have morphed into something new: he started scowling when Merlin woke him up and hasn’t stopped since. He barely grunts monosyllabic responses when Merlin tries to start a conversation. He’s less than impressed with his breakfast and expresses this by pelting the apparently subpar berries at Merlin, which doesn’t hurt but is still extremely rude and a mess that Merlin’s going to have to clean up later.
Merlin tries to let Arthur’s moodiness bounce off of him just like the berries, until he goes to help Arthur get dressed and Arthur swats him away and tries to dress himself instead. Which he knows never goes well.
“What’s gotten into you?” Merlin asks, as Arthur fights a frustrated, losing battle against his own clothes.
“I don’t like it,” Arthur says. He accompanies this statement with either an emphatic gesture or a desperate attempt to get into his shirt; either way, there’s a ripping noise. Merlin winces, and Arthur continues, “You and Leon, I mean. You don’t have time to be dating Leon, and he doesn’t have time to be dating you.”
“What, because we both have to spend all day focused on you?” he asks.
“Well…,” Arthur says, like Merlin’s not wrong.
Merlin isn’t exactly diplomatic at the best of times, and today he’s already had slightly mouldy berries thrown at him. So, it just comes out: “You enormous, self-centred baby.”
“Excuse me.” Arthur’s deeply affronted voice emerges from the prison of clothes he’s still trapped in.
“If you don’t want to be called a baby, stop acting like one!”
“I will have your boyfriend put you in the stocks.”
Well, that is just beyond the pale.
“I’m not dealing with you until you’re done being unreasonable.” Merlin stalks up to Arthur, yanks his shirt on properly over his head, and then turns on his heel and leaves.
*
Merlin decides to find himself work to do in the armoury, which should be far away from Arthur and his extreme annoyingness. Also, Leon may have mentioned something about needing to spend some time in the armoury, and Merlin needs some cheering up.
Leon is indeed there, sitting on a bench and polishing some daggers. He lets Merlin flop down on the bench next to him and lean on him, and then listens patiently to Merlin’s summary of Arthur’s new, self-centred outlook on their relationship.
“I am going to kill him this time, I swear,” Merlin concludes. “You wouldn’t believe what else he said to me.”
“Try me.”
“He had the audacity to threaten to have you put me in the stocks. Like you would!”
Leon pauses his work. Apologetically, he says, “I wouldn’t disobey my king, Merlin.”
Merlin makes a face at him. Not that he really minds; he knows who Leon is, and Leon’s shown him he’s willing to bend certain rules for Merlin’s sake. But still, Leon could express a little more sympathy when Merlin has just had to deal with Arthur being all Arthur.
“But what about when your king is being a prat?” Merlin tries.
Leon raises his eyebrows. “Then I’d be disobeying half his orders.”
Merlin snorts out a laugh. Leon smiles affectionately, clearly pleased his joke has landed and cheered Merlin up.
Leon sighs and runs his fingers through Merlin’s hair, presumably to soften the blow when he says, “Honestly, though, I kind of see where he’s coming from.”
Merlin makes a deeply indignant noise.
“Not that he’s right,” Leon clarifies. “But you’re his best friend. His first friend—he didn’t have any real friends before you showed up.”
“He had you,” Merlin says, because Leon is an amazing friend and definitely deserves to be counted.
Leon shrugs. “Yes, but we’re different enough in age that we weren’t as close then as we are now. And now he’s probably worried about losing both of us because we’re too busy with each other to pay any attention to him anymore.”
Merlin considers this and, after thinking it over, can’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for Arthur. It is true that out of all the knights, Arthur’s closest to Leon. And even if he rarely admits it, Merlin is his best friend. And Merlin knows how hard it is for Arthur to trust people and make new friends, so Arthur’s probably terrified by the possibility that he’s going to lose two of the few friends he has.
“Ohhh,” he says.
“I mean, he is also being a prat,” Leon says.
Merlin sighs. “Yes, but we can hardly blame him for being himself.”
They share a grin at Arthur’s expense.
“So,” Leon says. “Are you going to go back and make up with him?”
Merlin considers. “Does it make me a terrible friend if I say in a little bit and then spend the rest of the day with you?”
Leon smiles. “He deserves it, if he was threatening you with the stocks.”
*
Merlin waits until dinnertime to return to Arthur’s room.
He finds Arthur staring morosely into his fireplace, and feels another pang of sympathy for him.
“Just leave it on the table,” Arthur says without turning to look, in a tone that makes it clear he hasn't realized it's Merlin and thinks he's being served by someone who will respect his moping and his privacy and politely leave.
Merlin lets the plate clatter onto the table, like someone who isn't respecting Arthur's moods and doesn't care about any of the niceties of being a servant like being polite or unobtrusive.
“Oh, you're back.” Arthur doesn't quite manage to sound as indifferent about this as Merlin imagines he meant to. Leon was definitely on the right track about this. Even if Arthur's reaction is incredibly childish.
“I want you to know that I considered bringing you baby food, but I didn't.”
Arthur raises his eyebrows as he comes over for his dinner. “Do you want praise for that?”
“Well, that level of restraint took a lot of effort. So, yes.” Merlin steps back and watches Arthur expectantly.
Arthur makes a face that suggests praise will not be forthcoming.
“I didn't just come back because you'd starve without me,” Merlin says.
“No? Did it also occur to you that it's your job?”
“No,” Merlin says, because frankly it hadn't, not even for a second. “No, I came back to tell you that just because I have a boyfriend now doesn't change anything with us. I'll still have time for you. I’ll always have time for you.”
“Yes, because as previously noted, it's your job,” Arthur says pointedly, although when he meets Merlin's eyes, Merlin can see he's heard what Merlin was actually saying: they're still friends. They're always going to be friends.
Merlin hopes it sinks in.
*
The next morning, Merlin pauses dramatically at Leon’s threshold as he’s about to leave. “Let’s both take a moment and hope that Arthur’s not being a prat today.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Leon says drily.
Merlin opens the door and promptly stumbles back a step in surprise, because Arthur’s lurking ominously just outside. (He's dressed, Merlin is impressed to note, although his jacket is slightly too warm for the weather and Merlin suspects he's wearing it to cover up whatever awful thing he's done to his shirt. If he's even wearing a shirt.)
“Good morning,” Arthur says, pushing his way inside and closing the door behind him.
Merlins sighs. “You were right,” he tells Leon. “He’s still being a prat.”
“Hey!” Arthur says, scowling at Merlin. “And hey,” he adds, directing that one at Leon, as he clues in that Leon must’ve also called him a prat.
“My apologies, sire,” Leon begins.
“But are we wrong?” Merlin finishes for him.
(Merlin doesn’t actually think that’s what Leon was going to say. But he thinks it’s what needs to be said.)
Arthur glares at him, like maybe Merlin should reconsider speaking to his king this way. Merlin glares back, like if he is going to reconsider anything it will be his choice of employer, unless Arthur stops being so much of a prat.
Merlin's not sure how well he communicated this nonverbal message, but Arthur does stop glaring and look a bit shamefacedly at the floor as he admits, “All right, I was being a bit of a baby.”
Finally.
“A huge baby,” Merlin corrects him. Ignoring Leon’s attempts to hush him, he continues, “No, an enormous baby.”
Despite looking affronted, Arthur doesn’t even try to object; he knows he deserves it. “Look, I know I was being weird. I’m getting over it. You have my blessing to date, or whatever. Not that you need it. But I’ll stop being a baby.”
“Thank you,” Merlin says.
“I’m glad to have your blessing, sire,” Leon adds. He does look genuinely pleased, which is the only reason Merlin’s not complaining about Arthur doling out blessings like he gets any say who Merlin dates.
“Right. Good,” Arthur says. “Now, Merlin, you’re late for work. You’re supposed to be bringing my breakfast right now.”
“That’s where I was going when you got in my way, you giant baby,” Merlin says, and pushes past Arthur to head to the kitchen.
“That’s the last time you get to call me that without consequences!” Arthur shouts after him.
“Well then, you better actually stop being one!” Merlin shouts back.
*
Arthur does actually stop being a baby, and a week later, things with Arthur are back to normal… almost. He’s still giving Merlin and Leon looks once in a while, but now instead of bemused and/or grumpy, they’re pleased.
They’re on a hunting trip when Merlin finally asks him about it. Arthur, Leon, and Merlin have fallen back a little from the other knights. Merlin stumbles as they’re crossing a stream, and Leon catches him around the waist and draws him in close.
“All right?” Leon asks.
“Yes,” Merlin says doubtfully, as he eyes the small expanse of very slippery rocks he’s about to have to make his way across.
There’s no way he’s getting through this dry, is there?
Leon offers his arm with a joking bow. “May I?”
Merlin smiles back. “You may,” he says, taking the offered arm. He’s about to brave the rocks when he catches Arthur watching them and looking all pleased again.
“Why do you look so happy?” he grumbles.
Arthur flushes at being caught out, but says, “I’m really glad you two are together. You’re good together. It’s sweet. A bit nauseating, but sweet.”
Merlin’s saved from coming up with a response to that by Gwaine, who pops out of the woods on the streambank in front of them.
“What’s sweet?” he asks cheerfully, before Merlin can worry that he’s overheard more than he should have.
“We were just talking about Merlin’s awful choices in snacks,” Arthur says. “This dried fruit? Ugh.”
Merlin’s grateful for Arthur covering for them, and for his quick thinking. Until…
“Right?” Gwaine says. “Leon’s the only one who even likes it. I’m beginning to suspect he bribed Merlin to pack his favourite snacks and no one else’s.”
Busted.
Arthur gives Merlin an outraged look. Merlin is pretty sure it's mock outrage, though. At least, mostly. “I think you may be on to something there.”
“Hey, watch who you’re accusing.” Merlin grins. “I mean, I’d absolutely do that, but Leon? Bribe someone?”
“True, he’s far too noble to stoop to bribing the likes of you.” Gwaine frowns. “Wait, if it’s not bribery, why does he get his favourite snacks? Do you like him the best?”
“Maaaybe,” Merlin says.
Gwaine huffs. “Fine. Arthur can be my best friend, then. Come on, best friend.”
Arthur—who of course has made it across the evil stream already—follows after Gwaine. Though not before assuring Merlin, “I’m not going to forget this snack business.”
Once they’re out of sight, Leon asks smugly, “So, you like me best?”
“You know I do,” Merlin says. “And I’ll like you even better if you carry me out of this stream.”
Leon looks around. “Elyan and Percival are probably nearby, too, since they were hunting with Gwaine. In case you don’t want them to see that.”
Merlin considers. “I mean, they couldn’t possibly react worse to us than Arthur, could they?”
“Definitely not.” Leon smiles. “And we’re going to have to tell them eventually.”
Merlin knew they were serious and long-term, but hearing Leon imply it makes him smile. And he’s glad they’re on the same page about maybe, sometime soon, letting their secret relationship become a little less secret.
“So we agree that you can carry me out of this awful stream?” he asks.
In answer, Leon scoops him off his feet and carries him, laughing, towards the shore.