Archive of Our Own

He started playing World of Warcraft after a girlfriend, long since turned ex, had gotten it for him as a Christmas present. The man at the electronics store had assured her that any red-blooded male would enjoy this game and she'd gone along with that assumption.

They were broken up, unsurprisingly, long before the game even made it to his computer.

He'd signed up after the free trial run on a lark, finding it to be a fun distraction some days when he couldn't go out for a trip out to the pub with old university mates or a date with whatever soul sucking gold digger Morgana foisted off on him that time around.

It was after he'd taken over managing a division of the company that the game started to hold more of his attention. After he found out his new 'loving' employees seemed to think he wasn't qualified to manage a basket of fruit, let alone a company - never mind the years spent slaving away at uni for the degree or all time spent trying to gain his father's approval for anything. So filial piety was hardly on the radar with Uther Pendragon. It got to the point where some days he mentally equated some of his employees with Murlocs so he wouldn't snap and fire them for gossiping about him.

Plus it was fun to think of them running about the office making Murloc noises.

To relieve stress after long days or weeks at the office was the best thing imaginable. It was only a hobby, though. Never mind that he'd occasionally find himself searching WoWhead at work to find better plate armor for his level 72 Draeni paladin. Or that he'd slowly started to decorate his computer room with WoW statues and expanded lore books. They were collectors items, after all. A good investment to make.

...really, he was just glad that Morgana had never gone in there in all the times she'd popped over to see if he was still alive. She'd never let him live it down. It would be like Space Camp all over again.

Never again. Never again.

It was 3 am that night, after possibly the worst date he'd even been on. Her name had been Sophia and it was best to just say 'clingy' was an understatement. He was going to just take this time to dick around Northrend and a farm for cobalt. Riding around looking for that little yellow dot on his mini-map was far too relaxing.

This late at night, on the server he was, finding someone else out here was actually a bit of a surprise. Enough so that he brought his Elekk to a stop, pausing near the pert and curvy form of a female Night Elf firing arrows at a bear as her pet played tank. Okay, it was time to admit he was in desperate need of getting laid, if someone's avatar seemed appealing.

A scroll of his mouse over her opponent revealed that she was in no way in need of his help. But, since he really had nothing better to do, he stuck by to buff her and her pet with Blessing of Might. Because it was good game karma or some other load of crap. She was standing still and it wasn't really a mana burn to do.

Once the bear was downed, looted and skinned she turned to him and offered a bowing emote.

[Cerridwyn] says: thanks!
[Rashiran] says: no prob

Arthur hit enter again and stared at the open dialogue box for a minute as she didn't exactly seem in a rush to summon up a mount and take off for the next quest. He vehemently would deny that there was just a bit of anxiety over continuing the conversation with something more than the common courtesies. It was probably some pimply teenager behind Cerridwyn anyway.

[Rashiran] says: quests?
[Cerridwyn] says: yeah. grocery lists, ugh. ^-^;;

...right. The emoticon ruled out the teenage boy bit. But it did serve to relax Arthur enough to continue.

[Rashiran] says: want some help?

He paused, giving the screen a careful look to see if it seemed like he was overly desperate for something to do.

[Rashiran] says: i'm just mining and fishing
[Cerridwyn] says: lol
[Cerridwyn] says: at 3 in the morning?

They were in the same timezone then. Good. Hopefully they were even a Brit.

...why on earth did he think that would be a good thing?

[Rashiran] says: no competition for the ore!
[Cerridwyn] says: lol wouldn't turn down help, no

Arthur grinned (far too widely for the hour) and clicked accept. How sad was it that this of all things was making his night less of a failure?

[Cerridwyn]: we... might have to depopulate this region of bears at the rate they drop
[Rashiran]: hahahaha! no joke, that quest was horrible

That was how Arthur's foray into internet madness began, after staying up past dawn, just chatting and completing a chain of quests together. He passed out on the couch, too lazy to even make it to the other side of the loft where his nice, comfortable bed was. In his defense, it had seemed worth it at the time. The odds of finding someone who got his sense of humor and gave as good as they got from him had gone down since he graduated uni.

Dear god, he'd gone and made an internet friend. If only just for the night.

The week after, things continued on as per usual. Even if they seemed just a bit more bearable at work. He'd had to downgrade a few subordinates from Murlocs to Oozes, though. He had a feeling that a good kick would produce an old boot.

Dinner with Morgana and his father managed to remain civil for a change. Perhaps because the only topic of discussion had been the Mercia acquisition. It was how they functioned as a family. If you could call it 'functioning'.

Once he returned home, he flopped into the ergonomic chair in front of his computer and stared at the log in screen. How he'd managed to skip over his wild twenties and into middle age at 25 was beyond him. He sincerely hoped that playing this game wasn't his version of buying an over-priced car that he'd never have time to drive.

The solution to these existential woes seemed to be going to grab a beer before logging in.

He was in Exodar, catching up on his auctions and checking to see if he was up for more spells from the Paladin Trainer there. It was a slightly less busy capitol city compared to the ones with flightpaths connecting them to other places. No one seemed to come out here unless they needed a trainer, had a quest, or were a Draeni like him.

Having to take a boat from Darkshore tended to put people off a quick jaunt over. Especially with Darnassus being on the flightpath.

So, imagine his surprise when there was a whisper directed at him.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: fancy seeing you here ;)

The jolt of pleasure that that was both sad and thoroughly unnecessary.

To [Cerridwyn]: stalking me now?
[Cerridwyn] whispers: you wish
To [Cerridwyn]: it's fine. I know I'm irresistible.

There was a small, festive explosion around his character on the screen a moment after he hit enter. When it cleared, he was graced with the mohawked head of a Nelf. He spun the view around to spot a familiar female Nelf, laughing at him. Damn emotes.

To [Cerridwyn]: ...you did not just turn me into a deranged Mr. T
[Cerridwyn] whispers: afraid I did.
To [Cerridwyn]: see if I help you on any quests again
[Cerridwyn] whispers: baby. :p
[Cerridwyn] whispers: just remove the effect
To [Cerridwyn]: but will that repair my wounded psyche?

Dear god, he was flirting.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: lolololol
[Cerridwyn] whispers: will helping you with your quests heal the pain?
To [Cerridwyn]: it would start the process, yes.

And it was working most importantly.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: then lead the way
[Cerridwyn] whispers: unless the emotional scarring it too much for you to go on
To [Cerridwyn]: it could take YEARS of therapy
[Cerridwyn] whispers: lol
[Cerridwyn] whispers: what else can I do to heal the trauma, my lord? ;)

'My lord'. Oh, Arthur could get used to that one. He smirked as he started on his response. That was just the ego boost Morgana would say he really didn't need.

To [Cerridwyn]: I wouldn't object to one of those chainmail bikinis Nelfs tend to go for
[Cerridwyn] whispers: lol. you're too easy
To [Cerridwyn]: I'm a simple man
[Cerridwyn] whispers: yeah yeah. hot Nelf ass.
[Cerridwyn] whispers: reason why I picked her!

Because this was not a television show, Arthur did not do a spit-take. Instead he just choked on his beer and had to spent the next five minutes trying to remember how to breathe while having a coughing fit.

His cursor blinked ominously at him. It was just daring him to have a bad reaction to this and be that close-minded moron.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: no joke about playing a girl?

So, maybe he'd been flirting with a guy. And said guy had flirted back.

Yes.

Arthur continued to ignore the accusations from the blinking cursor as he tried to formulate a response that wasn't 'I'm not gay!' and a bit of manly flailing.

He found himself typing a response by sheer force of his bravado.

To [Cerridwyn]: there are just so many to make. I don't know where to start

That was nice and neutral, right? Not the flirtatiousness of before or the wee bit of gay panic that threatened to claw it's way up his throat and lecture him in a voice that, he imagined, would sound an awful lot like his father's.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: hahaha. ass.

Arthur relaxed minutely, taking a very long sip of his beer before typing anything back.

To [Cerridwyn]: they ARE avatars, you know.
To [Cerridwyn]: they're supposed to represent you in the game. and if you see yourself as a buxom woman...
To [Cerridwyn]: who am I to judge?
[Cerridwyn] whispers: I'm going to keep turning you into Mr. T now
To [Cerridwyn]: I support your lifestyle choices, Cerr!

Thank god for his ability to bullshit his way through tense moments in which feelings came up. One of best things about coming from an emotionally stunted family.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: support and mock?
To [Cerridwyn]: is there any other way?
[Cerridwyn] whispers: lololol
[Cerridwyn] whispers: get a move on with the quests. I haven't got all night to pander to prats
To [Cerridwyn]: oh please
To [Cerridwyn]: you can't get enough of me

...Why the hell was he still flirting?

Arthur looked around the room as if his father might jump out of the closet--ha!--and call him on enjoying flirting with some anonymous man online. The odds were slim, but the fear was still there.

[Cerridwyn] whispers: you've figured me out. i just want to see your Draeni shake his tail
[Cerridwyn] whispers: oh baby oh baby
To [Cerridwyn]: I'd offer to dance, but bollywood isn't the height of sexy.
[Cerridwyn] whispers: You could do that race transfer and be a Belf. now there's a sexy dance ;)
To [Cerridwyn]: hahahaha!

Dear lord he was going to give himself an ulcer doing this. He was one hundred percent straight, after all. It was just... nice to talk to someone who didn't want to be his pal just because of his last name.

And it wasn't as if he'd ever meet the bloke. Just some harmless fun, right?

To [Cerridwyn]: come on, Romeo. I need to build rep with the Sons of Hodir.

After a few weeks of finding themselves logged on at the same time on the weekends, Arthur managed to suppress the knee-jerk panic that he was disappointing his father by just talking to someone. And it turned out to be far more enjoyable than he thought it might be.

They didn't just talk about the game, though. He learned that Cerridwyn's real name was Merlin and that he was a perpetual grad student, working for peanuts at the University of London. And that he'd been dragged into this game by his former roommate who had very recently abandoned him to an empty, dingy little flat by getting married.

Merlin had, in turn, learned that his name was Arthur and that he loathed his coworkers--he neglected to mention that he was, in fact, the boss--and had a tendency to make Murloc noises under his breath when some of them talked on the phone. Also that Arthur thought his step-sister was possibly the spawn of Satan and had a... business relationship with his father.

Somehow talking online most days turned into every day. From there, it went to exchanging e-mails to keep in touch while they were at work or out and needed to pester each other. And then, after one particularly horrid dinner with his father, they even went so far as to exchange mobile numbers.

Because texting a fellow you met online was completely normal, right?

Arthur liked to think so, if only to remain sane.

It certainly helped make the work days go by faster to have someone to give a running commentary of his subordinates' stuidity. Today was one such of those days.

(no subject)

-A
Message sent via Blackberry

And he really was, mind. One of the man's main accounts was having a fit over the lack of an invite to the latest company to-dos and had left him around twenty angry voicemails to inform him of their displeasure. Well, it had really only been one very long rant that took up the time allotted to nineteen voicemail messages.

Arthur had already asked Morgana to make nice and they were out at some ritzy little restaurant that took months on the waiting list to get in and therefore incommunicado. Hence the man, Valiant if he recalled correctly, running around in a panic.

Look, Arthur made his own fun sometimes.

His Blackberry buzzed from it's spot on his desk, alerting him to a text message from Merlin.

Didn't HR lecture you about that sort of thing?

Grinning to himself, Arthur was quick to type back a response. Probably. I didn't pay much attention during those lectures

He put the phone back down so he could at least pretend to be working in case his secretary peeked in to see if he needed anything. Not that it happened very often. For some reason she was utterly terrified of him.

Buzz buzz.

You're going to get fired for that, you know

Arthur rolled his eyes far too dramatically and typed back: Don't be ridiculous. I know the boss.

He put the phone down and turned back to his computer screen to look over a few numbers. It wouldn't really do to get no work done, just because he had a slow day. But, halfway into that he started to get a little antsy for a response.

What are you doing?

Because he'd turned into a thirteen year old girl, it seemed.

Grading papers. students get dumber as time goes by :(

Snorting in amusement, Arthur was quick to text back. We can kill Kael'thas tonight if that will cheer you up

As soon as he placed the phone back down on his desk, the spawn of all that was unholy burst into his office like she owned the place.

"You are going to kiss my feet for what I just did for you," Morgana declared, eying the tasteful and completely impersonal decorations on the wall.

His secretary was left trailing after her, having clearly forgotten all about the warning system Arthur had briefed her extensively about on her first day. "Miss LeFay is here to see you," she said weakly, trying to blend into the walls, but failing because in Arthur's experience the walls rarely looked quite that nervous.

"Yes, thank you, Freya," he said with a resigned sigh. Reprimanding her was just too much like kicking a puppy. "I can see that."

She took that as her chance to flee what would probably become the kind of shouting match that would keep the office buzzing for weeks. Because she was nervous, not dumb.

"Do you physically abuse your secretary?" Morgana asked, watching her go as she took a seat across from Arthur. She was showing enough leg and cleavage to cause anyone to give her more than just a second glance, so she must have come straight from the luncheon. How she managed to combine that with a certain level of tasteful was a mystery that Arthur could never quite figure out.

"You make her nervous," Arthur replied, having been immune to his step-sister's... plentiful charms since he was fifteen and realized that she was far too terrifying to think of as a real woman. "It went well, then?"

"Knitting would make her nervous," Morgana countered, buttoning up her top to a more professional level. "It went well. All the damage is repaired, so commence kissing my feet. But don't get the shoes dirty, they're new."

Arthur rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair in relief. "Never going to happen."

There was a pause before he, very grudgingly, had to surrender a "Thank you."

Now Arthur was sure that smug look was completely unnecessary considering it was her job to play nice with clients. "Uther is having dinner this Saturday. You're coming."

And he did so love it when the price of her help was on par with the consequences had she not played PR wizard for him.

"Still asking when you're going to get married?" Arthur asked, with the spiteful glee of a sibling in the same boat.

Morgana scowled at him, ruining all that work at being professional with a response of, "Oh, shut up, Arthur."

She opened her mouth to say more when his phone buzzed with an incoming text message. They both looked at the Blackberry as it lay almost exactly between them. "Morgana--"

They might have been business professionals sometimes around each other, but they were fulltime siblings. So, it really shouldn't have come as a surprise when she snatched it away before he could finish his of lecture about privacy.

"Who is Merlin," Morgana asked, raising an eyebrow at him over the phone. "And why do you say the sweetest things to him?"

"It's a private joke," Arthur replied, lunging over the desk to try and snatch the phone away before she got any ideas. "You do know what private means, right?"

Morgana was already up and typing in a response to Merlin before Arthur could lay a finger on her. Much to his horror. "Of course I do, Arthur. But we all know that doesn't apply when it comes to your loving sister."

Arthur shot her an incredulous look. "Who?"

"Ha ha," She replied dryly. The phone buzzed again as Merlin replied to whatever it is she said. Oh good god this could only end badly.

He needed that phone back. Now.

"He says that you made his day more bearable," Morgana continued with that evil grin of hers. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

Hurrying out from behind his desk, Arthur once again tried to take his phone back. Morgana, however, was a master at the keep-away game. "Just give me my phone, Morgana."

She made sure to get one last response typed in and sent before handing it back over to him. "When will I be meeting this little boyfriend of yours?"

"Never!" Arthur snapped automatically. He clutched the phone to his chest like a lifeline before realizing what had just been said. "I mean--he's not my boyfriend, Morgana. He's just a friend."

There we go. Masculinity reaffirmed.

"Mmhmm," Morgana replied, smiling in a way that made him very, very nervous.

"Don't you have a job to do?" he asked peevishly. "In your own office?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell him any embarrassing childhood stories," Morgana promised sweetly. "I have photo albums for that."

"Out!" Arthur replied, pointing at the door. "I'm sure there's something toxic you should be injecting into your skin."

Morgana just waved his insult off, heading for the door without a fuss. "Don't forget about dinner this Saturday."

...oh god, he'd forgotten all about that in the light of the phone theft. "Don't tell father anything!"

"Goodbye, Arthur," Morgana replied, slipping out the door before he could demand a promise of silence.

He was just going to be here. Having a nice panic attack while his phone buzzed to let him know about the text message coming in.

I will

...what? Arthur frowned and went to check sent messages, only to find that woman had erased them all already.

He ventured forward cautiously: Will what?

And prayed that it wasn't something horrible. It probably was, but there was always hoping.

Arthur?

Arthur sucked it up and... let bravado respond while the rest of him panicked. Yes, the spawn of Sargeras is gone

He could avoid emotional responses like normal people avoided spam mail.

You are such a dork for saying that ;)

Something uncoiled in the pit of Arthur's stomach at the ridiculous emoticon. Count on Merlin to be an utter girl about them.

Regardless! The beast is gone.

And he was dying to know what on earth she'd said to him. But, of course, asking would mean he cared. Which he didn't.

At all.

He was just running his thumbs over the keyboard keys that would spell that question out for no particular reason.

Did you get the BlizzCon tickets yet?, he typed instead. Like the emotional retard he was.

He should really have expected the overly happy response of, :D Xroommate got them yesterday!

Ah, yes. The roommate Merlin spoke of occasionally.

There was a pause before the phone buzzed again.

you going?

I'll see if I can take the days, he replied lamely. Which was already done. Now it was a matter of manning up and going.

great! how weird is it we live in the same country, but will travel to US for meetup? ;P

Yes, that wasn't terrifying at all for Arthur.

I know, right? he texted back before looking at his calender and the marked days in August. He was 95% certain Merlin wasn't some serial killer who wanted to wear his skin. Just as he was 95% certain that this utterly ridiculous, grammar school crush would go away upon seeing him in person.

And not get worse.

Because it wasn't like he could buy him a tiered armor set at the con in some horrible attempt to be told he was the best. (Daddy issues made for interesting social interactions, sometimes)

He was broken out of this brooding fit as his Blackberry buzzed once again.

shit. boss coming. ttyl!

Right then. Arthur stared long and hard at his phone, wondering if he ought to ask Morgana and face her worst. It might be better than having to sit here and wonder what on earth she told him.

He shook his head, very carefully putting the phone away in his desk drawer so he wouldn't be tempted to text Merlin repeatedly like some cow eyed girl. Which he wasn't anything like, for your information. As manly as they come, Arthur Pendragon.

Right.

By the time the convention rolled around, Arthur had bought plane tickets to California one very late, very drunk night when he couldn't reason himself out of going to finally meet this Merlin fellow. And his friends.

But there he was. In the land of American sitcoms and perpetual sun. His 'casual' outfit had been meticulously planned out over the course of a month in order to find the right way to look: not rich, not entirely unapproachable, sexy without painting his pants on. And no, he wasn't going to explain the need to look sexy to himself, let alone anyone else.

He'd arranged to meet Merlin by the Kerrigan statue. Now he just needed to find the man in a t-shirt that proclaimed him a 'Level ?? Humanoid' standing by the statue at 10:00 am. That... hopefully wouldn't go wrong. Surely there couldn't be more than one with those specific criteria, right?

Arthur pulled out his phone to text Merlin, just to be on the safe side. Where are you?

He looked left and right form his spot in front of the statue, trying to figure out who looked more Merlin-esque. Not that he had a mental image of what the man looked like or anything. That would be silly.

by the statue

Pursing his lips, Arthur turned left to do a quick circle around it, finding only one man sticking close, but only paying attention to his phone rather than the detail work of the piece. And he was also wearing the aforementioned shirt, so this was a very strong Merlin contender.

Arthur's first impression of the man was ears. Bloody massive ears. Following that was some nonsense about cheekbones that he wasn't about to think into at all. "Merlin?" He asked cautiously.

The maybe Merlin looked up, squinting for a moment before distressingly blue eyes went wide. "...wow. You're not at all what I expected."

"Pardon?" Arthur's first inclination was to take offense to that statement. Mostly because it was better than noticing how lovely Merlin's lips were.

"I mean--" Merlin went red, ducking his head to shove the phone into his messenger bag. "--you're not exactly the average gamer. Appearance-wise. I was expecting someone a bit less..."

He chewed on his cheek, watching Arthur out of the corner of his eye as he failed to come up with a word for Arthur.

"Blond," Arthur supplied dryly, before he could stop himself from his usual response when uncomfortable or facing an emotional situation: being a prick.

That managed to break Merlin out of whatever he'd been thinking about as he rolled his eyes. "You look like a rockstar, not exactly a gamer."

"You say that the day we're supposed to be expecting a concert from Ozzy Osbourne, you know," Arthur replied, lips quirking up in a grin despite himself.

"Oh, shut it," Merlin shot back, managing an answering grin. "I have to introduce you to Gwen, you know. She was utterly convinced you were some serial killer, out to eat my spleen or something."

Arthur held up a hand to his chest, giving Merlin a wounded look. "I'd never have such poor taste. Your liver would be far better."

Laughing, Merlin adjusted his bag before nodding past Arthur. "Come on, then. Can't let you go hungry now, can we?"

Breathing a sigh of relief that he would deny to his dying day, Arthur moved to the side to allow Merlin to lead the way. This had gone far better than he'd originally thought it would! "Only if they have onions. Otherwise you're safe from my cannibalistic ways."

Merlin shot him a look that made Arthur's heart beat just a bit faster; it seemed flirtatious. As long as he wasn't just reading into it because of things he did not want at all. He didn't think he was reading into things. Because they were just friends. Yes.

There was a moment before Arthur realized he'd been standing still as Merlin hurried on through the crowd to find this former roommate of his. He frowned and hurried on after him, dodging through the crowd as best he could without knocking people over in his rush.

"You could have waited," Arthur grumbled, bumping into Merlin's shoulder once he finally got up by him again.

Merlin shot him another of those damned looks out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "I could have. But you caught up admirably well." He grinned again, this time wide and guileless. "She's around here somewhere. Her husband helped her make this wicked warrior armor. You need to see how much detail they put in--"

He stopped and waved over through the crowd at someone, clearly trying to get them to come over to where he and Arthur stood.

Arthur craned his neck, trying to see just who he was waving at, finding some man making his way over to Merlin. A man who was smiling in a way that made Arthur think he should possibly go jump off a bridge rather than smile at Merlin in that manner. Oh, he'd already decided he hated this--this GQ cover reject.

"Lance!" Merlin said excitedly, grabbing the man's arm with far too much familiarity. "This is Arthur, the fellow I met online. Arthur, this is Lancelot. He's Gwen's husband."

...so perhaps he was a bit quick to wish a messy death on the man. But it was hardly his fault.

Arthur held out a hand for him. "A pleasure to meet you," he said stiffly.

Grabbing the offered hand, Lancelot pulled him in for a hug that caused Arthur more than just a minor bit of flailing internally. He was good enough that the only outward reaction was a widening of his eyes at the suddenness of this. "Always good to meet a friend of Merlin's," he said once he pulled away from Arthur, smiling wide and friendly.

"Is Gwen around then?" Merlin asked, not at all seeming shocked by the attack of inappropriate affection Lancelot had unleashed upon Arthur.

Lancelot smiled in that sickeningly newly-wed manner at the mention of her name. "She just went to grab a few of the fliers for today's panels."

"How nice of her," Arthur managed before he was very rudely interrupted by an armor clad Dwarven warrior assaulting Merlin with a hug. They were a couple of huggers, it seemed. That was... good to know.

Arthur would now be busy coming up with ways to avoid those hugs should they get the urge to do that to him ever again.

And she was rambling too, it seemed.

"--did you find your Arthur?" she asked Merlin, squeezing him tightly and fretting. "Was he an utter creepo? Do you need me to threaten him with my sword?"

"Gwen," Merlin replied, trying not to laugh. "Gwen."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to look like a 'creepo'. Mostly my looking far too amused to be threatened by a petite woman in a suit of armor that--if he looked closely--was the Onslaught Armor. Very nice work, he had to admit.

Gwen pulled back quickly, smoothing Merlin's shirt. "I know. I'm not allowed to unsheathe it here."

"No, you're not," Merlin replied, biting his lip in amusement as he gently turned her in Arthur's direction. "Gwen, I'd like you to meet Arthur."

She turned out to be a rather attractive woman behind the armor, even if that was marred by a look of horror and complete and utter embarrassment. "You didn't say he was Arthur Pendragon," Gwen said, turning toward Merlin frantically.

"What?" Merlin asked, looking from her to him and back again.

Arthur was just going to try and disappear now, thank you.

"I work for your company," Gwen said, trying to explain her reaction in a way that made any sense at all. What it really was happened to be a bit more of a ramble. "I mean. Not your company, your father's. I mean. Your sister, actually. I saw you at a Christmas party once, though. You were with some tart and I hadn't thought anything of you and--"

She covered her face with her hands. "Oh fuck, I'm going to be fired for insulting my boss."

Lance was a good, kind husband and very gently put an arm around her shoulders to lead her away. "I'm going to get her a drink," He told Merlin, patting her arm soothingly.

"That might be for the best," Merlin suggested, still shooting her concerned looks. Which was just unnecessary. Arthur was the one vaguely traumatized here. "Well."

Merlin shot him a nervous look that made his stomach do strange things. It was... the dubious breakfast concoction he'd gotten at the hotel buffet this morning. It had to be that.

"I'm not going to get her fired," Arthur said abruptly. Because that would make the situation less of an awkward clusterfuck.

"That's... good," Merlin replied, fiddling with the strap on his bag. "So, your coworkers--?"

Arthur took a breath, holding his shoulders back stiffly. "Are my subordinates."

"Oh." Merlin looked around, scratching the side of his neck before continuing. It was far too long a pause for Arthur's taste. "Did you want to go see the tournament matches?"

"Yes!" Arthur answered a bit too quickly for his ego to not take a hit. "That might be interesting."

He was one smooth operator.

Merlin nodded, shouldering the bag again before gesturing the correct way for Arthur to go. "Were you--I don't think any different of you now, you know."

That got Arthur to pause for a moment as they walked. "Is that so?" It was a nice, neutral answer. He was fond of those in situations he couldn't control.

"I mean, you're still the same guy who stayed up to three in the morning for us to finish off Kael'thas in order to get me armor," Merlin replied with a wide grin. That in no way made Arthur relax just a bit more.

He shrugged, trying not to grin too much. "It was better than whatever rags you insisted on equipping."

Merlin laughed and shoved at his shoulder lightly. "They were not rags, you prat!"

"Oh please, I could find beginners in better armor than that."

The day was, nicely enough, looking to turn out far better than he could have hoped. There were people to mock with Merlin as they watched tournaments and... Merlin. There in person. Constantly bumping his shoulder against Arthur's.

It might have been on accident, so Arthur neglected to mention the blatant invasion of his personal space.

Further into the day, evening really, they managed to meet up with Merlin's friends again before taking him out for dinner. Gwen hadn't quite managed to look Arthur in the eye yet, but it was progress! Because he'd hate for--some reason Merlin's friends didn't approve of him. As another friend.

Of Merlin's. Because they were all friends now or something.

Never mind how Arthur found himself noticing those damned cheekbones at random points of the day and had to tell Merlin he had a pen mark on his cheek to avoid answering why he was staring. It was perfectly normal.

And now he was adding the self control killing affects of alcohol to the mix. This was just bound to turn out well.

The quest for dinner had brought them to Arthur's hotel after a few attempts at finding a fast food resturant had only proven unhelpful. There was no way in hell Arthur was going to squeeze into an enclosed space with that many unwashed fanboys without booze being part of the equation.

They'd taken a spot at the bar as they waited for a table to become available. One too many con goers ahead of then, it seemed.

"I can't even remember the last time I was in a bar," Merlin informed him with an unnecessary amount of cheer. He was sticking to water so far. He was a lightweight, he'd confided in Arthur when they first arrived.

Arthur, on the other hand, went for the most expensive scotch the bar carried. A little liquid courage for something he hadn't even acknowledged to himself yet. "Two months for me," he replied after taking a healthy swig of his drink. "An old mate from uni's stag party. Most depressing thing I'd been to all year."

"Depressing?" Merlin asked, shooting him a confused look that was--to Arthur's distress--rather adorable.

He took another swig to finish the drink before responding. "Everyone I know is marrying off and rushing to start their two dot five."

Because Arthur had only socialized with the 'right people' from birth until... well, until about now, really. At a certain age, it was expected that you found someone from the same proper background to settle down and continue the illustrious family legacy. It was starting to feel like he was the only single man left in London.

...and Merlin had lovely lips from this angle, he noted as he waggled his empty glass at the bartender.

"Not interested in that sort of thing?" Merlin ventured, fiddling with his coaster nervously.

Arthur watched the bartender refill his glass as he tried to come up with a suitable response. "Most of the people--" Women! What was wrong with him? "--I've dated see me as a walking checkbook when they hear my last name."

It never helped that Arthur's taste and judgment when it came to dating was sub-par.

Merlin snorted. "You're still managing better than me. I'm pretty sure the last time I was in a bar was also the last time I had a date."

Arthur wasn't interested in hearing that. At all. "That so?"

"Well, you know," Merlin replied sheepishly. "School seems to take up all the time not spent on interacting with Dwarves and Draeni."

"I hear that," Arthur said, clinking his glass against Merlin's before downing the scotch in one go. He hardly even coughed.

Merlin made a distressed noise in the back of his throat as he watched. "You're going to be nursing one hell of a hang over, you know."

And Arthur found himself unable to stop the sappy grin that came at hearing Merlin was concerned about his well being. "I'll be fine," He insisted, reaching for the drink menu.

He was just pissed enough to think that cocktails that no self respecting heterosexual man would touch seemed like a brilliant idea.

"But I'd be better if you let me buy you a drink," Arthur added, giving Merlin his most charming smile.

Merlin seemed to resist for all of five seconds before caving in like a poorly handled souffle. "I suppose one couldn't hurt, right?"

Arthur beamed at him before flagging down the bartender again. "Two blow jobs, please."

The flush spreading over Merlin's face and neck made the public embarrassment for ordering them more than worth it.

Just one drink had the nasty habit of turning into three or four once the first one ended up tasting more like candy than alcohol. Especially when one of the people involved was halfway drunk and the other couldn't hold their liquor to save their life.

So, it made for an interesting time all around.

"I don't understand why they all have to have lewd names," Merlin said, taking a sip of the newest drink. It was fruity!

"What?" Arthur drawled, taking a bit too much care with each word he said. "Didn't you know that it's only in good taste to have a little butt sex before dinner?"

Merlin did the graceful thing and snorted half the drink out his nose. Choking and coughing, he shot Arthur an utterly foul look.

"If you don't like it, you could just say so, Merlin. No need to waste a perfectly good drink."

Oh, Arthur was a smug bastard.

"You prat!" Merlin said once he was able to talk without coughing. He was spending a lot of time trying to mop up the mess with the undersized bar napkins. It was an exercise in futility, sadly. "You did that on purpose!"

Arthur sipped his own drink and continued to look too smug to exist. "It's not my fault you have the delicate sensibilities of a woman."

Merlin rolled his eyes, tossing the wad of damp napkins at his head before finding the bartender had kindly refilled his drink without him noticing. Like a ninja, that bartender. "How much longer until we get a table? I think I might need to eat something soon before I get pissed."

Though, actually, that point had passed about two drinks ago.

"Not soon enough," Arthur said, squaring his shoulders as he tried to catch the maître d's eye. They certainly couldn't be getting any repeat business from the Pendragons if Arthur had any say in the matter

Turning his head to inform Merlin of this, Arthur had to stare for just a moment or two. Merlin wasn't even doing anything interesting. He was just trying to dry his shirt with more of those ridiculous napkins, but it was giving Arthur thoughts that a man of his standing did not have.

Except when they did. Such as now.

"We should get room service," Arthur blurted before he could do any of that thinking business.

Merlin stopped his work in order to eye Arthur for the suddenness of that suggestion. "What?"

"Room service," Arthur replied, going to the comforting and familiar mockery to cover up his internal panic. "Where they bring food to your room. Try to keep up, Merlin."

The look Merlin gave him was uncalled for and made Arthur wish he could run off somewhere safe and not here. He really couldn't handle a rejection of something that-- that was only friendship. "I suppose that would be faster," Merlin granted him after too long a pause.

"Of course it will be. Now let's go before you end up spilling more all over the bar," Arthur said, snagging Merlin by the arm as he got off the bar stool. It was only by some miracle that neither of them brained themselves in the process.

Merlin stumbled after him, letting go of the napkins in his hands quickly as he found himself dragged out of the bar and toward the lift. "That was your bloody fault!"

"Really, Merlin. You need to stop placing the blame on others for you own actions," Arthur replied. He squinted at the wall for a moment before finally locating the up button for the lift. Repeatedly jabbing it proved to be one hell of a distraction from the fact that he was still holding onto Merlin. As though he might wander off or something.

"See if I ever help you in a dungeon again," Merlin grumbled.

There was a soft 'ding!' to alert them to the lift's arrival before the doors opened. Arthur once again dragged Merlin on after him into it as he rolled his eyes. "Oh please, you can't wait for the expansion to be released so we can try the new ones."

"Shut up," Merlin replied, showing that he was at the height of maturity by following that up with giving Arthur the two-fingered salute. As the elevator jolted slightly, he leaned against the nearest bit of support. That just so happened to be Arthur thanks to the hand on his arm. "Where is your room anyway?"

"Somewhere near the top," Arthur said, keeping it as vague as possible, because letting Merlin know just how rich he really was didn't seem like a bright idea. That fear and the sudden closeness of Merlin kept him still for a few floors as he tried to repress as best he could with a warm body pressed against him. No one built like a damned twig had any right to be that warm.

Before Merlin could clue in to his vast inter-personal failures, Arthur let the alcohol in his system guide his next move. He pushed Merlin against the wall of the lift, kissing him desperately. There was no finesse involved, but when Merlin started to kiss back... it released the odd pressure in his chest.

It was truly a wonder that neither of them ended up with a split lip or broken nose in their clumsy enthusiasm.

Merlin's hands somehow found there way to clutching Arthur's shirt during this as before he pushed just enough to break the kiss. "I thought--" he started, licking his lips in a way that prompted a pathetic noise from Arthur.

He kissed Merlin again, less desperate, but only just barely. This time, he had the time to notice that Merlin tasted like that last unfortunately named drink they'd had at the bar, and that he opened his mouth for him easily at the first hint of pressure.

It was the ding of the lift that broke them apart this time. Merlin stared owlishly back at him, the blue of his eyes almost eclipsed by his dark pupils as his focus seemed to be solely on Arthur's lips.

Arthur just stared back at him, only moving when the doors tried to shut before they could leave. "C'mon," he managed hoarsely, dragging Merlin along after him.

"I'm coming," Merlin replied, stumbling after him and shooting the hand on his arm a sulky look. "You don't have to take my arm off."

The bit of banter was almost enough to reestablish the status quo after... what happened. It would've worked even better had Merlin not been crowding his personal space at the door to his room, though.

Arthur was having just a bit of trouble pulling the card key from his pocket and putting it into the slot in order to open the door. It was so much easier when you were sober.

"I can help--" Merlin offered, reaching for the card. Again with the leaning. Not helping at all, thank you.

"Oh, please," Arthur's ego replied for him. "You'd lose it somehow."

He shoved it at the slot one last time and only by sheer chance did it actually go in and produce the click that unlocked the door. "See? I had it perfectly in hand."

Merlin rolled his eyes, backing off just enough for Arthur to open the door for them both. "Alright, alright." The room was still just as embarrassingly large and opulent as it had been the morning Arthur checked in. It even managed to garner a "Wow," from Merlin before Arthur dragged him in.

"Stop gawking like some street urchin," Arthur said, shutting the door behind them.

"I wasn't gawking," Merlin countered, only stumbling twice on his way to the couch in the sitting room. It was large enough to warrant a sitting room, yes. The couch probably cost more than two months of Merlin's rent at that.

"Like Oliver Twist, you gawked," Arthur replied, plopping down on the couch next to him. Just... to keep an eye on things.

Merlin snorted in amusement, turning slightly to face him better once he was seated. And Arthur... Arthur was utterly helpless to do anything other than kiss him again. This time, it was lazy, at least compared to the lift. He was able to wrap a hand around the back of Merlin's neck to keep them from having any sort of unfortunate accidents.

It was a bit like being a teenager again. Necking on the couch and being all sorts of worried about what he was doing. Not that Arthur had ever worried before. He was above that kind of thing.

Merlin took the opportunity to run his fingers through Arthur's hair, shifting closer and closer until he was damn near in Arthur's lap. This response was so much more than Arthur could even admit he'd hoped for.

Arthur put his hands around Merlin's waist as he moved, in order to keep him from toppling over to the other side of the couch. He was just... being helpful.

Never mind that he didn't remove them once Merlin was settled on his lap and no longer in any danger of concussing himself. Instead, he moved one hand up and down the curve of Merlin's spine, rucking up that ridiculous t-shirt around his chest as he exposed blindingly pale skin. He didn't break away from the kiss in order to help remove the shirt, no. They both seemed to be satisfied with just this for now.

Arthur shifted beneath him, using his other hand to take a firm grip of one spectacularly bony ass in order to haul him as close as the position allowed. The obvious bulge in Merlin's trousers as he pressed against Arthur's stomach was both a confidence boost and source of internal panic. He was doing very well to repress the panic at the moment, though.

It was Merlin who broke the kiss finally, staying close enough still that their noses bumped when he spoke. Well, rambled actually. "I never thought--I mean--You're a bit far out of my league--"

Consider Arthur's ego stroked at that. He was just drunk enough that his response was a genuine smile and pulling Merlin in for another kiss, instead of the knee-jerk mockery that would have happened were he sober. The thought that Merlin was worth far more than anyone who was 'in his league' passed through his mind-- he didn't say it, of course. That would take a lot more alcohol to admit. But he thought it without any qualifiers attached.

It was... progress of a sort.

And it probably didn't hurt that Merlin was looking at him like he was something special. But that was something he really wouldn't admit.

"I think--" Merlin started and then stopped in order to kiss Arthur again. "I think we ought to find the bed. Now."

He wriggled in a way that made Arthur forget all about what he'd said.

"Alright," Arthur replied, tugging up on Merlin's shirt instead of getting up to find the bedroom, because he was a Pendragon and Pendragons didn't do anything halfway.

Merlin scooted back on his lap, lifting his arms up to make it easier to remove his shirt. "You're not helping," he informed Arthur with a snicker.

"We'll get there eventually," Arthur replied, skimming his hands up Merlin's sides and taking in the newly exposed skin. He wasn't supposed to find it nearly as appealing as he did. Someone more like that Lance fellow should be his type.

...if he were so inclined.

Right. He ignored the last scream of his heterosexuality in favour of leaning in to lick Merlin's collar bone.

Merlin chuckled again, running his hands down Arthur's neck and shoulders before tugging on his shirt. "Come on, then. Your turn."

Arthur found himself smiling like an utter moron again. It'd been... probably a very long time since he found the lead up to sex to be enjoyable. "I took care of yours," he pointed out. "I believe it's your turn now."

He fiddled idly with the buttons on Merlin's trousers, not doing much with them as the scope of the situation caught up with him all at once and he was some simpering virgin all of a sudden.

There was a large difference between having sex with a man and the wank fantasies you try very hard to repress once you finished.

Snickering again, Merlin placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders and pushed him back against the couch. He looked far too at ease, in Arthur's opinion. "Alright then."

He kissed Arthur again before reaching between them to unfasten Arthur's jeans in a few deft movements. Some had a bit of practice there, it seemed.

It took a few tugs and Merlin scooting back for Arthur to realize that wearing pants as tight as he'd chose for today perhaps wasn't the best idea.

"Hold on," Merlin grumbled, scooting back until he was perched on Arthur's knees as he tried again.

"I've got it," Arthur replied, slouching down and lifting his hips to see if that gave better leverage.

This move also had the unfortunate side affect of knocking Merlin back onto the coffee table.

Yeah, Arthur didn't even want to look right now. He covered his face with his hand, wondering just what else could go wrong here.

"I'm alright!" Merlin chimed in, waving as he tried to sit back upright on the edge of the table. "Everything's fine."

Arthur pulled his hand away just enough to shoot him an incredulous look. "Are you serious?"

Frowning, Merlin pointed an accusatory finger at him. "It wasn't my fault. You pushed me."

"I did nothing of the sort!" Arthur replied, frown only going away as he watched Merlin slip off the coffee table to kneel between his legs. From that position it seemed he could tug down on the jeans to about mid-thigh. "Er--"

"You're not wearing underwear," Merlin informed him needlessly. "What sort of convention did you think this was?"

He appeared to be trying very, very hard not to laugh as he spoke-- something Arthur found completely unnecessary, considering how close to his dick the man was.

"There would have been lines," Arthur replied stiffly. Then wondered why exactly he felt the need to explain himself when that did cause Merlin to laugh.

"Oh, shut up!"

Merlin just continued to snicker, resting his forehead on Arthur's thigh. "I'll stop, I'll stop. I swear."

As the laughter trailed off, Arthur gave the ceiling a foul look for the heap of indignities he was being forced to suffer. It did, however, prove to be a very effective distraction from the looming threat of gay sex in his future.

That would be why he was taken by surprise when Merlin reached over to take him in hand. It was a nice surprise, all things considered.

Arthur peered down, watching Merlin stroke his hand up and down as he tried to find the proper amount of friction or something of that sort. Arthur wasn't really considering motivations at the moment. Especially not when Merlin leaned his head down to take the head of his prick in his mouth.

He dug his fingers into the couch cushion, panting just slightly as he watched Merlin bob his head up and down shallowly. He kept his hand around the base of Arthur's dick, slowly moving it in time with his mouth. It made for a picture that Arthur certainly wouldn't have thought of as sexy before this whole... online gaming thing. World of Warcraft made him gay.

Dear god.

Those thoughts only lasted for a short time as Merlin furrowed his brow in concentration, making his ridiculous cheekbones even more prominent as he added more suction each time he pulled back.

Arthur was finding himself dangerously close to completion at this rate. It was just embarrassing how much this was affecting him.

"Merlin," he managed to croak in an attempted warning. He had manners, after all. "I'm not--"

Whatever else he planned to say was very rudely cut off when the man hummed in response. It wasn't as though that was something new, he was just... a bit more primed for the main event than he'd been in a very long time.

The little bastard was even starting to add a swirl of his tongue every other bob of his head. Really, that was supposed to just stay ridiculous advice, given to desperate women in those silly little fashion magazines Morgana was so fond of. It wasn't supposed to be applied to the task of driving him insane.

It certainly didn't help that Merlin seemed so enthusiastic about what he was doing either. It was impossible for Arthur to even attempt to think about the Nasdaq in order to stave off orgasm just a little longer.

One of his hands detached from the couch to brush through Merlin's hair in some sort of girlish manner that Arthur would never normally allow. "Merlin--" he tried again, a bit more desperation in his voice this time.

Merlin pulled off with a ridiculously pornographic 'pop'. That affect was ruined when he grinned dopily up at Arthur. "I know."

"...you know?" Arthur echoed, swallowing a few times before Merlin grinned again and that glorious fucking suction returned.

He was moving faster now, keeping his mouth on the head of Arthur's dick as his hand worked the rest. Arthur groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch as he rocked his hips up just once before Merlin's free hand was pushing them back down to keep from getting surprised again.

But he didn't stop what he was doing, of course. Arthur bit his lip to keep the noises to a minimum. How well that worked was debatable, really.

"Merlin--" Arthur's breathing went shallow and he tensed in anticipation as he could see the proverbial finish line just ahead.

And once again, Merlin's only response was a happy little hum, clearly designed to push Arthur right over the edge. Obviously illegal.

Obliging Merlin's evil plan, he came. With a groan that could have been some mangled form of Merlin's name, no less. Like the sort of teenage girl that he'd somehow become in the midst of all this.

To his surprise Merlin didn't pull away immediately. He stayed where he was, still moving his hand, but at a slower pace. Once Arthur slumped back bonelessly on the couch, he pulled away to grope around behind himself for the box of tissues on the coffee table.

Blame it on the afterglow that Arthur found that more than a little hot. Even as Merlin grabbed a second tissue to wipe off his tongue. "Bleh."

"That was--" Arthur waved his hand about lazily, demonstrating how articulate he was post-coitus.

Merlin just shot him an amused look before standing back up and working on his own trousers. His amusement seemed to turn a bit nervous as Arthur stared at him a bit blankly.

"I should--go take care of this," he said quickly, swallowing back something Arthur couldn't identify.

Oh. Right.

He could manage this just fine, thank you. Just ignore those nerves.

Arthur grabbed his arm before he could go, pulling him back to the couch. "Come on then."

"You don't have to," Merlin said quickly, perhaps looking for an escape route. That only made Arthur more determined to do this, though. He was a Pendragon. They didn't do things halfway.

"Shut up," Arthur replied, glad all that bravado was still there to carry him through emotionally charged conversations. He pulled Merlin closer, trying to get them both back into their earlier position. It was only after Merlin got a clue and moved in a helpful way that it ended up roughly as he'd envisioned.

Arthur took a quick breath before taking hold of Merlin's prick. Like this, it wasn't too terribly different from just having a wank-- if you simply ignored how it really wasn't a damn thing like having a wank with Merlin wrapping his arms around his neck and making all those damned noises in his ear each time he moved his hand.

A bit sensitive, it seemed. Or Arthur was a sex god. He might be willing to go with the latter.

Or, just maybe, Merlin was as eager for this as he'd been, but that really wasn't what Arthur was thinking about. He was mostly trying to see just what produced more of those noises Merlin was so keen on making. Taking a page from what he liked, Arthur made sure to brush his thumb over the head of Merlin's prick on each up-stroke, smirking a bit when that produced a stuttery jerk of Merlin's hips.

Merlin pulled back a little, just enough to cup Arthur's jaw and kiss him, hard and needy. He gasped half formed words of praise against Arthur's lips, sticking close even though he wasn't kissing him at the moment.

This was something, Arthur thought fuzzily, that he could get used to. That sort of thinking would no doubt cause more than just a few panic attacks once he sobered up, but for now this all seemed to be exactly what he wanted.

"Arthur." Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur's, eyes shut tight as if to try and hold off just a little longer. "God, Arthur--"

Arthur swallowed back some silly emotion that cropped up in his chest, threatening to force him to come completely undone. He just nodded instead of giving into the girlish urge to tell Merlin he looked beautiful. "Yes."

And now he wouldn't have to be on the only person who came quicker than expected as Merlin clutched him tightly for a moment, spilling over Arthur's hand and t-shirt with a gasp. "Oh god."

Once Merlin went limp and pliant against him, Arthur pulled his hand away to wipe it... on the couch. The hotel could bill him for the cleaner.

"I am, I know," he just had to inform Merlin dryly. It was a matter of retaining his masculine credibility.

Merlin snickered again before kissing him, soft and lazy this time around. "One hell of an ego on you."

"You're the one who used the word," Arthur replied, running his hand up and down Merlin's back for reasons beyond him. "Several times, in fact."

That just garnered another laugh as Merlin sat up without needing Arthur's support. "Can we find that bed now?"

Keeping his hands on Merlin's hips--maybe a bit possessively so--Arthur nodded. "I suppose we could. If you're done praising my celestial qualities."

There was that feeling of this being just what he wanted again. It was just... something to worry about after they found the bed. Yes.

Later.

When Arthur woke up the next morning, the first thing that should have given away how terribly wrong things were should've been how comfortable he was with someone snuggling him. It took a few seconds for 'Oh, this is nice' to give way to 'Oh dear god what did I do last night?' He stared over at the tasteful alarm clock on the bedside stand, watching its accusing little numbers tick back slowly as he attempted to formulate a plan to escape.

Because he remembered how much he'd enjoyed things last night. That just would not do for a Pendragon. He was supposed to marry some insipid woman like Morgana and be emotionally distant from his children. Not--be gay for some scrawny bookworm whom he met online.

Arthur very slowly and carefully unpeeled Merlin's arm from its spot wrapped around his waist. At the slightest hint of him waking up, Arthur froze up and waited before ever so carefully replacing himself with a pillow to keep Merlin happy and asleep.

It was just a strategic retreat, he told himself. Not at all a cowardly escape.

Right.

Once free he scrambled around the room in a desperate bid to put some freaking clothing on. Nudity wasn't normally such a vulnerable thing for Arthur, but on this occasion it equated about as high as emotional honesty.

He managed to wriggle back into the too tight jeans and throw on whatever shirt he found nearest to them before rushing to grab his overnight bag. It--had his wallet in it. That was the only reason he was grabbing it.

He needed air before this horrible panic crawled its way up his chest and escaped into some rant that would only make him sound like his father. Air outside the damn hotel preferably.

Shoving his feet--without socks, too much work right now-- into his shoes, he made the mistake of glancing over toward the bed. Very big mistake.

That panic bubbling in his chest suddenly got competition from shame and self-loathing, mixing together to form a lovely cocktail of emotions. It wasn't--he just needed air.

Tearing his eyes away from Merlin, he turned tail and fled out the door before he crawled back into that bed and never left.

The air he needed came in the form of getting a taxi to the airport. From there, it took the form of the first flight back to England with a few lovely lay overs in Chicago and Buffalo. The whole while, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest that wasn't coming from the fact that he'd accidentally taken Merlin's too-small t-shirt.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

So, after sleeping for maybe four hours total before the next Monday morning of work, he'd managed to come up with a plan to set things right after his less than brave retreat from California.

It started with a very professional e-mail to his secretary, telling her to donate a more than sizeable lump of money to Merlin's department at University of London. This was the Pendragon way, after all. Throw money at it and pretend everything was alright. A tried and true method.

You could imagine his surprise when, at the end of the work day, he was paid a visit by Morgana on the warpath.

"And just what did you do this weekend?" she asked, smiling like a shark as she barged into his office without so much as a knock.

Arthur focused firmly on the numbers on his computer screen, not going to allow himself to be baited on this. "I traveled, as you already know."

"Really?" Morgana asked, taking a seat in the chair across from his desk, smile going far too cruel. "Would you happen to know why the lovely young woman who brings me my coffee is devising plans to cut off your balls? Not that I can blame her."

Arthur froze. He'd managed to forget about Merlin's roommate somewhere along the way. "...haven't a clue."

Morgana leaned back in the chair, quirking an eyebrow in a way that said 'Oh really?'. But he was far too practiced to break at just that. He shot her a look right on back.

She sighed and rested her chin in her hand, elbow on the arm of the chair. "Really, Arthur. Couldn't you have done your experimentations in university like the rest of us?"

Something broke in Arthur's brain at the thought of Morgana doing anything ever. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"You look terrible," she said, instead of pushing on that front. Giving him a closer look, Morgana was forced to raise an eyebrow once more. "Have you even slept since you got back?"

Right, that was just what he needed right now. "I slept fine. Just a bit of jet lag."

And a lot of guilt.

Morgana snorted in amusement. "You really care about this Merlin fellow, don't you?"

"What?" Arthur's head shot up and there was no way to pretend to be engrossed in work now. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Just because he'd checked his phone every ten minutes for a text or e-mail since he'd landed in London didn't mean anything. He just wanted to make sure he hadn't left anything in California. Like his pride. And shirt.

"I've never seen you this upset about a fling before," Morgana pointed out with her completely unwanted logic.

"I'm not upset!" Arthur snapped, standing up in hopes that would give her ideas about leaving the office before this got even more uncomfortable. "And don't worry about your coffee needs. I've already fixed it."

Morgana shot him a dubious look, like she was simply forced to ask, "You talked to him, then?"

That was where it got a bit tricky to answer in a way that would get her to leave. It was never fair that she could tell when he lied. "Not as such..."

And that look impugned his ability to feed and clothe himself, let alone fix something messy involving emotions. "What did you do then?"

"I made a small donation to his department at the university," Arthur replied stiffly. The staring and amount spent doing so was wholly unnecessary. "What?"

"You're like a miniature Uther," she said finally, shaking her head.

Arthur straightened up, shoulders back and tense. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Talk to Merlin or I will," Morgana replied, ignoring his question entirely. "You know I will."

"I've taken care of it," Arthur said through gritted teeth. "There's no need for you to poke your newest acquisition from the plastic surgeon into my business."

Normally that sort of insult would send her into a tizzy, but not when he needed it the most, it seemed. "I could've let Gwen castrate you, you know."

Arthur sat back down in his chair with a little too much force. It had the unfortunate side effect of making him look a bit like a child in a sulk. "Why are you still in my office again?"

Standing up gracefully, Morgana shot him one last look before turning for the door at her own pace. "Talk to him, Arthur."

Once the evil Naga queen was gone, Arthur sat back in his chair and stared at the computer screen for a little while longer. Nothing on it was important at this point, but it was better than staring at his phone, willing it to ring. He glanced over at where it was on his desk, hoping to god she wasn't right about this. That Merlin would understand the gesture for what it was. It had to work, right?

Right?

It was late into the evening when he finally got a text from Merlin. Joy didn't even begin to cover the feeling he got at seeing that name on his mobile. That quickly turned to confusion as it seemed Merlin hadn't heard about the donation just yet.

what the hell is wrong with you??

Because that didn't sound like the 'I forgive you, let's go on a raid!' he had been hoping for deep down.

Pardon? he typed back, eying the phone for a moment before deciding against calling his secretary at home to make sure she made the donation early enough in the day that he'd have heard of it.

His phone buzzed again before he could finish punching in her number anyway.

dont worry i wasnt going to tell anyone about blizzcon

A few seconds later another one came through.

so stop trying to buy me off

Buy him off? Well, that might have meant he heard about the donation and got the wrong impression. That was an easy fix, at least. Arthur gave the screen a firm look before typing back a response. I wasn't buying you off

That was a good, solid answer that didn't mean he had to explain it was an apology.

what was it then?? payment for services?

That... stung more than Arthur was willing to admit. He put the phone down, rubbing his eyes to relieve the stress building. This wasn't going according to plan.

The phone buzzed again and he forced himself to pick it back up and read the text. i thought we were friends at least. i was wrong

A brand new form of panic cropped up at that, leaving him unable to do much more than reread the message about ten more times for just a glimmer of hope.

Nothing so far.

He could probably manage to keep this from ending now with just two small words. But that would mean leaving himself open for a sort of rejection that he couldn't deal with, oh... ever. If he actually did apologize and Merlin didn't accept it he really didn't know what he'd do. So, he just put the phone down before this situation could get any worse.

And that was how his internet madness ended. With a pathetic whimper and a dollop of cowardice.

So, life continued on as per usual the weeks after his disastrous conversation with Merlin. Work still needed to be done, he had his... social life. Or lack there of. God help him when he started to look forward to dinner with his father and Morgana if only to have something to do.

It was a Friday night, somewhere around three weeks after everything, when he'd been forced to leave the office by Morgana who claimed he was going to turn into some sort of hermit. Which was ridiculous, but she had refused to leave him alone until he went home. She was a witch of some sort, he was sure of it. And not even the good Jaina kind.

Considering the Indian place he ordered his dinner from didn't even have to let him finish giving his order anymore, it was possible he was... in a bit of a rut. It wasn't like he cooked, though. That was why they had take away.

When there was a knock at his door in the middle of watch Britain's Got Talent--something he'd sooner die than admit to liking--it was a bit of a surprise, but not enough to cause any real alarm. Arthur just sighed and grabbed his money, counting it out as he opened the door. "Doorman let you up then?"

"Your sister, actually," came the vaguely Irish sounding response that sounded nothing like his usual delivery man.

Arthur looked up quickly, swallowing back an emotion he'd rather not categorize at the moment. "Hi," he tried dumbly. Because that was a good response to seeing Merlin again. Merlin at his apartment. Merlin talking to him again.

"Hi." Merlin chewed on his lower lip, peeking around the hallway. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Arthur replied, remembering how he once had these things called manners. Stepping back to let Merlin in, he craned his head out into the hallway to make sure no madwoman with a sword was lurking there as well.

Once Merlin was inside, the door safely closed behind him, they were left standing in the hallway. Not talking. Merlin looked around, looking more than just a bit out of place. Arthur struggled for something to say that wasn't another repeat of 'You're in my loft' or 'Hi'. It was a good thing that manners really had been drilled into him from a young age. He could defer to them when he had to.

Arthur gestured toward the living room, trying not to stare at Merlin's face again. "Would you like something to drink?" There, that was a good thing to ask a guest, right?

"I'm fine," Merlin replied, going where directed and taking a seat on the edge of a plush leather chair. "I--your sister and I have been talking a lot."

That feeling he could identify easily. That would be panic. "Step-sister," he corrected automatically.

Merlin shot him a look before continuing. "Mostly about you."

Yeah, nothing about that was soothing the panic that was bubbling up in his mind. "Whatever she told you about Space Camp was a lie," he blurted out before he could get everything back under control.

"...Space Camp?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "I'll go get you your drink." Despite Merlin, you know, declining the offer. With that, he fled for the kitchen before Merlin could even begin to question him any further on the matter.

Dear god, when did he turn into some stuttering teenage girl?

Once safely ensconced in the kitchen, he was dialing Morgana's number to yell at her as quietly as humanly possible. This was just a new level of evil on her part. She was going to pay for this--this--this. He didn't even have words in all his panic--rage! It was rage. And, of course, it went straight to bloody voicemail instead of to her.

"Morgana, I swear to god I will murder you in your sleep. What on earth were you thinking bringing Merlin to my loft? Are you insane?" he hissed into the phone, peering out of the kitchen to see if Merlin was listening in. No, he was still in the living room, giving Arthur's TV viewing choices an amused look. Oh God. "And what's this about you talking to him? Can't you mind your own business for once? I will set your entire wardrobe on fire. Is that understood? All of your ridiculous clothing will be gone."

It was a good threat, you know.

Arthur covered the mouthpiece and peered out again to find Merlin wasn't where he left him anymore. Oh god. "This isn't over," he said into the phone one last time before shutting it and going to hunt Merlin down before he--okay, Arthur wasn't sure. Left, perhaps.

"Merlin?" Arthur whispered. Then promptly wondered why he was whispering in his own apartment. "Merlin?"

No answer. So Arthur was left still clutching his Blackberry and moving past the living room and down the hall. Perhaps he needed to use the restroom? That only left him with a dark and open room with no Merlin in it. Which was odd since the only thing left on this half of the house was the linen closest and his computer room--

Arthur took off for the computer room, not at all looking like a madman as he pushed the already open door to find Merlin looking at his collection of figures. He held on to a faint hope that the other man wouldn't at all notice how he'd placed the Draeni Paladin and Nelf Hunter on the most prominent shelf together, while the others were just scattered about. It had been an utterly stupid move on his part, but he hadn't expected Merlin to come to his loft, oh ever.

"I--" Arthur started, trying to get Merlin's attention somewhere less embarrassing.

It only worked in that Merlin was now looking entirely at him. That appraising sort of look he was more used to from Morgana or his father that made him feel like he was found lacking before he'd even had a chance to defend himself. "Do you want me to leave?" he finally asked.

"No!" Arthur immediately regretted blurting that out, trying for calm and collected on the second attempt. "You came all this way, after all."

Merlin bit his lip and looked down at a Murloc plushie, picking it up and squeezing it once. "It was Morgana's idea, you know. I told her it was stupid. You--made your decision in California."

Swallowing back that emotion he wasn't about to think about, Arthur also turned his focus on the stuffed doll. It was safer that way, after all. "I--"

He was afraid of wanting this so badly it almost hurt. Afraid that his father would disapprove. Afraid that Merlin didn't feel the same way about him.

Twitching the corner of his mouth in a failed attempt at a smile, Merlin handed over the toy. "Can we at least be friends again? I--I missed you."

That horrible pressure in his chest seemed to increase the closer to him Merlin got. He accepted the Murloc numbly, staring at Merlin for a moment before he could man up to saying something. He hadn't ever had to come up with an automatic response to this sort of thing before and he couldn't get himself to try and bluster his way through it.

"I missed you too," Arthur admitted, ignoring how his voice cracked a bit. "I didn't--"

Just say it, Arthur. It was just more emotional vulnerability than he'd ever had to engage in before. Be a man and just say it!

"I want you to stay," he said, getting as close as he could. "Please."

He was rewarded with the faintest of smiles from Merlin and the pressure eased just a bit, thank god. Merlin nodded before turning back to the statues. "You have quite the collection."

"Well," Arthur replied, clearing his throat and relaxing just a bit as the conversation was back on something easy as he gently placed the Murloc doll on his desk. "They'll be worth money one day."

Merlin snorted in amusement, picking up the Thrall one, looking over the details. "Only reason, eh?"

And there was that pressure in his gut again. Only this time it was because of the way Merlin looked almost happy to be around him again. This wasn't fair: for everything to pop up like this at something utterly stupid. It was just a smile, nothing special about it.

Arthur took a step closer before he could stop himself, putting his hand on the side of Merlin's face. It was more than just a touch painful to see Merlin giving him a wary look as he got this close. He never wanted to see that aimed at him.

"Arthur...?"

"I want you to stay," Arthur tried again, leaning in closer until he was almost kissing Merlin. Just a bit more courage and he could do this. "With me."

Merlin brought his hand up to cover Arthur's, the wariness giving way to something close to hopeful. It was enough to spur Arthur on to kissing him properly, not caring when Merlin dropped Thrall to kiss him back.

The only thing that broke them apart was the buzz of the intercom alerting Arthur to what he hoped was really the food delivery and not that friend of Merlin's there to cut off his vitals. He was hoping he'd use those a little further down the line. "I've got Indian takeaway if you'd like," Arthur said, looking at Merlin in a way he was utterly certain was just disgustingly sappy. Like a romance novel, it seemed.

Grinning wide and open, Merlin nodded. "I think I'd like that very much."

Arthur cleared his throat, pulling back and--almost tripping on Thrall. "Bugger," he hissed, hopping back on one foot. Sharp plastic angles weren't his friend in an attempt at playing it utterly cool, it seemed.

"Sorry about that," Merlin said, picking the statue up and trying very hard not to laugh at him. "My fault."

"Damn right it is!" Arthur replied sulkily, rubbing his foot before more insistent buzzing got him moving again. "I hope you like chicken tikka masala."

Merlin rolled his eyes and put the statue up in its proper place before rushing Arthur down the hallway. "You're lucky that I do."

And that was how Arthur's internet madness started all over again. Which was good, as he'd hated to have missed out on the expansion.