Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Where’s Merlin?”

Gwaine laughed. “You know, Arthur, that's always the first thing you say if he isn’t here when you get here. How about trying something new, like, ‘Hey guys, good to see you?’”

“You want me to lie and say it’s good to see you, Gwaine?” Arthur retorted, as he looked around and saw that almost all of the gang was in attendance for their weekly pub night. Arthur mentally checked off the familiar faces as he quickly scanned the table. Leon and Morgana were there, wrapped up in each other the way they always were after one of their many breakups and reconciliations. Lance and Gwen were cuddled together, almost sharing a chair, Percival and Elyan were squabbling over the menu, and Mithian and Elena had their heads together, smiling at him in a way he knew meant they had been talking about him.

But Merlin was missing.

“Maybe I should run over to his flat, make sure he hasn’t forgotten,” Arthur said, but Mithian pulled him into an empty chair and said, “Relax, mother hen. We texted him twenty minutes ago, he said he got involved with a project and lost track of the time. He’ll be here in a little while.”

Arthur took off his coat and Percival poured him a beer from one of the pitchers they had already ordered. He loosened his tie and lifted his glass, saying, “Here’s to Friday.”

The others joined him in the toast, and Elena answered excitedly, “Not just Friday, but three weeks until Christmas! And we all get to be on holiday!”

“Together!” Lance pointed out.

“Except for Merlin,” Arthur said. He realized he must have sounded sad, because all of the women were looking at him sympathetically, and Mithian and Elena exchanged a significant look.

He had no idea what they were on about, and it wasn’t worth trying to figure out. When they wanted him to know, they would tell him.

They had all met at university, and become fast friends, notwithstanding the couplings and uncouplings that had inevitably taken place. In fact, it almost required a spread sheet to figure out all of the permutations of their relationships.

Gwen had been Arthur’s first love, until Lance came along. Leon and Mithian had had a brief fling, as had Gwaine and Percival. And Gwaine and Morgana had hooked up, as had Gwaine and Arthur. Arthur still shuddered when he remembered that he and his half-sister had slept with the same man, but they were both very fond of Gwaine, and all three of them had the sense to never bring it up.

The only one who had never crossed the line into romance within their close- knit group was Merlin. Merlin kept very quiet about his love life, but Arthur was absolutely certain that no one in the group had slept with Merlin.

Although he was pretty sure Gwaine had given it a try.

Arthur tried to push away the annoyance he always felt when he thought about the way Gwaine flirted with Merlin, and brought his mind back to the holidays.

Ever since their second year at uni, everyone but Merlin had been assembling at Arthur’s family estate in Scotland for the holidays. Merlin was a beloved part of their group, but he always refused to come, on the grounds that his mother and his aunt and uncle needed him to spend Christmas day with them.He could not be budged from his position.

Arthur had cajoled and bargained, to no avail. He had offered to have Merlin’s family come along, but Merlin said spending Christmas on an estate that adjoined Balmoral Castle was far too grand for them and they wouldn’t enjoy it. He had asked if Merlin could come up on his own after Boxing Day, but Merlin always had some reason he couldn’t do that.

Arthur had really hoped this would be the year he weakened Merlin’s defenses, but sadly, Uncle Gaius had passed away in September, and Merlin could not be persuaded to do anything other than spend Christmas with his mum in the cozy little house where he had grown up.

So Arthur had tried to reconcile himself to another Christmas without his best friend.

Just as Arthur was working himself into another good sulk about this unhappy state of events, Merlin showed up at the pub. He shuffled through the door looking wet and even more bedraggled than usual, and stood by their table, his wet clothes dripping on the floor.

Arthur gave Merlin a quick once-over and saw that something was amiss. For one thing, the idiot had come out without a decent overcoat, wearing just a thin cloth jacket with one of his ratty scarves looped around his neck. He was shivering from the cold and his jacket was soaked through. His ears were bright red, but his face was very pale, and despite his attempt at a smile it looked like he had been crying.

Arthur took charge, as he often did with Merlin. Within a couple of minutes, he had manhandled Merlin out of the wet jacket, pushed him into a chair, wrapped his own warm overcoat around Merlin’s thin shoulders, and ordered him tea with honey and whiskey.

A couple of people started to ask Merlin what was wrong, but Arthur silenced them with a glare and said, “Let him drink his tea for a bit before you all cross-examine him, hmm?”

So they all watched with concerned expressions as Merlin sipped the tea and the shivering eased, and Leon gave him his handkerchief when it was clear that Merlin was trying to knuckle away tears.

Once Merlin finally seemed more composed, he looked down at his knee, where Arthur’s hand was resting. Arthur pulled the hand away, but really, it was nothing for Merlin to be self-conscious about, he was just offering comfort.

“Finish your tea,” Arthur said gruffly, and Merlin gave him a small smile and murmured, “So bossy.” A sigh of relief went around the table at this small sign that Merlin was rallying, and Gwen said, “Merlin, love, what’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing, really,” Merlin said, looking around the table. “I didn’t mean to worry you all, I just had a surprise today, and it’s a good thing, really….” Merlin’s voice trailed off.

“Oh, for the love of God, man, spit it out,” Gwaine said impatiently.

Arthur said, “Gwaine!” in a warning tone, before turning to Merlin and saying, “Yes, just spit it out. It can’t be that bad.”

Merlin took a deep trembling breath and let it out slowly, then launched into his story. “Well, you all know my Uncle Gaius died a few months ago, and my Mom was devastated, but she was putting a good face on it, you know how she is. But then she was talking to my Aunt Alice and they felt like they just couldn’t face a proper British Christmas without Gaius, and the long and short of it is, the two of them are going on a Senior Singles cruise to the Caribbean, and they offered to buy me a ticket so I could come with them, but I don’t want to be on a cruise with a bunch of women my mother’s age, and I can’t take the time off from my thesis anyway, and….”

Merlin’s words were tumbling after each other almost too quickly to follow.

“Merlin, slow down,” Lance advised kindly.

Merlin took another deep breath and wrapped up tragically, “And I’m happy for them and I think they are doing the right thing but we always had Christmas together and it won’t be the same and now I have nowhere to go for Christmas, and I’m mad at myself because I’m a grown person and it shouldn’t matter so much but it does.”

There was a long silence, and then Elyan said slowly, “Wow, that story was so convoluted it sounded like Gwen was telling it.”

Gwen started to protest, but Arthur held up a hand to silence her. He wasn’t going to be distracted from the main point. Merlin needed a place to go for Christmas.

Arthur was a man of action, and he stepped into the breach, knowing the others would follow him.

“No need to be so dramatic, Merlin! As if you have nowhere to go, when I have been asking you for years to spend the holidays with the rest of us. You’ll come to Scotland with us, of course.”

Merlin blushed and started to protest, getting flustered and stammering out “Your... your father!”

Everyone knew that Merlin was in awe of Uther, and became even more awkward and clumsy than usual in his presence, but Arthur steamrolled over the objection, saying, “My father and stepmother are only going to be there until the 26th, then they are flying off to the Canary Islands, and we’ll have a whole five days with just us.”

“I don’t want to impose….” Merlin continued, but the others chimed in, saying, “It will be perfect!” and “Oh, you must come, Merlin, we’ll have so much fun.”

Merlin considered the pleading for a minute, then smiled shyly and said, “All right, then.”

“So that’s settled,” Arthur said, and summoned the waiter to order another round. As Merlin and Arthur started talking about logistics, Morgana smiled at them like the cat in the cream pot.

They had a lot of fun that night, and Arthur was glad to see that Merlin had cheered up enough to play a game of darts with Percival and to beat Mithian and Morgana at Scrabble. At some point in the evening every one of the friends had a quiet word with Merlin, telling him how happy they were that he would be joining them for the holidays.

It seemed like all of the conversations ended with a hug, and that gave Arthur an odd possessive feeling. But he shrugged it off and turned to talk to Elena, who seemed to find everything he said extremely funny.

No matter the state of their current love lives, he and Elena knew that they were destined to be nothing but very good friends. So they tended to flirt outrageously when they wanted to make a third party jealous or when they didn’t have anything better to do.

The gathering broke up about midnight, and as they all said goodnight outside the pub doors Leon offered Merlin a ride home, since it was still raining hard. Arthur interrupted Merlin’s acceptance by saying, “Don’t be silly, Leon, it’s right on my way.”

They all knew that wasn’t precisely true, and that Merlin’s flat was more on Leon’s way home than Arthur’s, but no one said anything. Arthur liked to drive Merlin home; it was one of the facts of life in their group. And if some of them had theories about why it was so important to Arthur to see Merlin safely home, they kept their thoughts to themselves.

“See you next week,” Arthur called, as he grabbed Merlin’s elbow and pulled him in the direction of his car.

They ended up sprinting through the rain, but it was only a block and they didn’t get too wet. Arthur unlocked the car as they ran up to it, and opened the door for Merlin to get in and slammed it shut, running around to the driver’s side.

“You don’t need to get the door for me, Arthur,” Merlin chided once Arthur slid behind the wheel. “You just got wetter, and it’s not like we’re on a date or something.”

“I always get the door for you,” Arthur said simply, and Merlin realized that this was true. He wondered why he had never noticed before.

After that moment of sincerity, Arthur returned to form and teased Merlin. “Besides, if I didn’t open the door for you, you’d have some sort of weird accident.” Merlin didn’t say anything to that, since they both knew that he could be remarkably clumsy, particularly around cars and machinery.

They didn’t say much on the way to Merlin’s, and Merlin almost dozed off in the warmth and luxury of Arthur’s expensive car. Arthur was a banker, and made a generous salary, while Merlin was still a struggling graduate student. And Merlin was well aware that Arthur came from money, while his own background was solidly working class.

Merlin had made it to university on scholarship, and was on his way to being a brilliant archaeological scholar. His specialty was Anglo-Saxon Britain, and he was writing his doctoral thesis about the famed Staffordshire Hoard discovered in 2009.

Pursuing graduate studies had kept Merlin short of money. He had a grant, but after paying for tuition and books he only had enough funds to live modestly.

Arthur had learned early on that Merlin was independent and got somewhat prickly any time Arthur suggested that he help Merlin with some of his expenses. He respected Merlin’s position, but he had plenty of income to spare, and hated seeing Merlin barely scraping by.

At one time Arthur had even suggested that Merlin move into his flat, pointing out that there was plenty of room and a guest room and bath that were almost never used, but Merlin had recoiled from the idea with a look of sheer panic on his face, and Arthur never brought it up again.

Much as he would have liked to help Merlin more, Arthur contented himself with buying more than his fair share of rounds at the pub, and driving Merlin home to save him the tube fare. If Merlin was looking particularly pale and skinny, Arthur would cook for him at his flat and send him home with the leftovers.

As he drove, Arthur realized that he was counting the days until Merlin finished school and wouldn’t have to live like an impoverished waif. But he was also aware that when Merlin finished school he might be leaving London.

At least his specialty would keep him in the British Isles. Unless he did a post-doc in the states.

That didn’t bear thinking about, so Arthur turned to Merlin and said, “You awake? We’re almost there.”

Merlin gave him a genuine grin, the bright smile that had first caught Arthur’s attention across the dining hall at their college, and said, “Yeah, although all this upper-crust luxury is spoiling me for my drafty little bed-sit.”

Arthur had to keep his lips clamped firmly together to avoid saying, “Come stay at mine.” They’d had that discussion too often, and Merlin never said yes.

Merlin seemed not to notice, and said hesitantly, “Speaking of luxury, do I have to wear black tie to dinner at your father’s place in Scotland? I still have my kit from school, but I think I may be a bit broader in the shoulders than I was then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” Arthur answered, cuffing his head lightly. “We live near the Queen, but we don’t mimic her old-fashioned rules. You can wear jeans the whole week if you want, except maybe for Christmas dinner. Just try to bring some warm clothes, we’ll be cutting a tree and going for long walks, maybe doing some tracking.”

“As long as I don’t have to kill anything.”

“We only shoot with cameras, Mer-lin.”

“Okay, then.”

Merlin still sounded doubtful, and Arthur remembered a lecture Morgana had once given him about not overbearing Merlin’s will. “He likes you so much, Arthur, that he’ll do what you want, even if he may not want it himself.”

Morgana had been doing her all-knowing big sister thing, and Arthur had blown it off, but he had to admit their might be some truth in what she said.

So he cleared his throat, and said, “You know, Merlin, I really want you to come to Scotland for the holidays, and so does everyone else, but if it isn’t what you want, just say so. I want you to have a good Christmas, wherever you are.”

Merlin turned to him with an arrested look in his eyes. “Am I speaking to Arthur Pendragon, the man who always knows what is best for everyone?”

“Not everyone, Merlin, just you.” Arthur listened to that replay in his head, and thought it sounded kind of strange, so he quickly added, “So what do you think, really? Neither duress nor deception, my lad. Are you coming or not?”

“I’ll come,” Merlin said. “I think spending ten days in a place that amounts to a castle with my friends sounds way better than being alone for Christmas.”

By this time they were at Merlin’s flat, and as Merlin exited the car Arthur said, “Hardly a castle, there are only nine bedrooms. And I promise I won’t rope you into any activities you aren’t interested in, you can sit by the fire and read the whole time if you want.”

Merlin laughed. “Yeah, you won’t be dancing around saying “Merlin, Merlin, come and play with me. I’m so bored.”

Arthur laughed too, and watched until Merlin got into the inner door of his building.

Arthur drove home with a smile on his face. For once, he was getting to spend the holidays with his best friend.

Over the many years they had been making the trek to Scotland, the group had developed a rough plan for approaching the house party. The Pendragon estate, Dragonshead, was the principal residence for Uther and Arthur’s stepmother, Catrina. They also had a flat in London, and spent the coldest months traveling, but Catrina enjoyed the country life in Scotland more than any other location. And Uther was so besotted with her that he was happy to live wherever made her happiest.

Uther kept a well-stocked wine cellar, and had a cook and several other employees to maintain the house, as well as groundskeepers and stablehands. But the Pendragon’s tradition was to let the staff have the week off after they got their Boxing Day gifts, and since Uther and Catrina were leaving on the 26th, Arthur and his friends were responsible for grocery shopping and cooking meals.

Morgana was an excellent administrator, in addition to being naturally authoritative, so every year she made a list of what needed to be done and handed out assignments. She gave Gwen and Lance the task of bringing gift wrap and ribbon, and Gwaine was in charge of choosing DVDs for them to watch in the evening, since their location was too remote for reliable Internet. She put Mithian and Elyan, the two best cooks, in charge of making up a schedule for cooking and cleanup, and Elena was in charge of bringing any groceries that they wouldn’t be able to get in the village. Percival and Leon were tasked with getting the Christmas crackers and making up the gag gifts for Christmas morning.

Arthur was happy to let Morgana do the planning, but he drew the line at their next pub night when Morgana started organizing car travel. “Let’s see, Leon’s car seats five, so Merlin can come with us, and there will be plenty of room for Lance and Gwen…”

Arthur interrupted her, saying, “Oh come on, Morgana, nobody would want to be smashed into the back seat for nine hours between one of you two pairs of lovebirds. Merlin will come with me. You can organize the rest of the rides, but leave us out of it, okay?”

Morgana looked at him with a wicked gleam in her eye, and said, “Wouldn’t it be more environmentally sensitive if you took another two people? It’s 500 miles, and if the two of you go alone we’ll need more cars.”

“Maybe you can all take the train, that would be the greenest of all,” Arthur answered sweetly, and that was the end of that discussion.

The plan was for them to all arrive in the evening of the 23rd, so Arthur arranged to pick Merlin up first thing in the morning. It was about nine hours going north on the M6, and his plan was to drive about five hours, then stop for lunch, arriving in time for a late dinner at Dragonshead. It was cold but sunny, and Arthur was really looking forward to getting out of town and to the holiday.

Arthur had always loved Christmas. He’d grown up without a mother, since Ygraine Pendragon had died of a brain aneurysm just a week after his birth, but he’d had a loving mother figure in his nanny, Helen. She had always made sure that Arthur had a wonderful Christmas, full of special treats and fun things like tromping around the grounds to pick the perfect Christmas tree. Even Uther had thawed out at Christmastime, and some of Arthur’s happiest memories of time spent with his father came from those days.

Helen was long gone, of course, married and with her own family in Glasgow. And Uther had remarried while Arthur was away at university. Catrina was not Arthur’s favorite person in the world, but she made his father happy, and that was enough.

His musings ended when he pulled up in front of Merlin’s building and texted him, “Get down here!”

The answer came back moments later. “Need five minutes.” Arthur texted back, “Of course you do.” But he wasn’t concerned about it. He’d allowed plenty of time, and he had long ago learned to make allowances for Merlin’s morning ineptitude.

Just as Arthur was about to get out of his car to go haul Merlin out of his flat, he appeared, a red and white striped scarf wrapped around his neck and a disreputable beanie hat on his head. He had an overstuffed duffel bag over his shoulder, a thermal mug of tea in one hand and a wrapped gift in another, and a radiant smile on his face.

Arthur’s heart did a small lurch when he saw that smile, but that wasn’t unusual. It happened a lot these days, and Arthur refused to examine it. Instead, he quickly got out of the car to help Merlin before he dropped something. “Good morning, Waldo.”

“Hey!” Merlin said. “This is my Christmas scarf. My mum made it for me.”

Arthur opened up the boot and said, “You do know that we’re only supposed to be doing gag gifts, right? And that Percival and Leon are doing them?” He took the duffel from Merlin as he spoke and wedged it in next to his own bag.

“This one is special,” Merlin answered.

“Is it for me?”

Merlin got a bit flustered and nearly dropped his tea. “It’s a surprise. I can’t say who it’s for.”

Arthur took the mug from Merlin before he tried to drop it again. He hoped the gift was for him.

After all, he had one for Merlin in his suitcase.

Walking around to the passenger side of the car, he opened the door for Merlin and waited until Merlin had his seat belt buckled before he got in himself.

The holidays had officially started.

Getting out of London was a bit of a nightmare, but after that the first few hours of the trip went smoothly. They squabbled over the radio, with Arthur wanting to play his usual indie fare and Merlin wanting classic holiday choral music. They actually tussled a bit over the radio buttons until Arthur called a halt, saying it was distracting him from the road.

Merlin had his tea, and Arthur had stopped by his favorite coffee shop for a coffee and a couple of breakfast sandwiches. Merlin grabbed one out of the bag and tore the wrapping off, saying, “Cheers, mate. I didn’t have time to eat anything this morning.”

“That comes as no surprise. I knew you would be too busy with last-minute packing to have a proper breakfast. Honestly, I don’t know what you’d do without me to look after you.”

Merlin looked down, and Arthur noticed how long and thick his eyelashes were. “I don’t either,” he said softly.

This was making Arthur feel a bit strange, so he reached over and grabbed the bag from Merlin’s hand, saying, “Hey, one of those is for me.”

By one o’clock they were hungry for lunch, so they stopped in a small town and parked on the main street, thinking they would stretch their legs a bit while they checked out the lunch options.

Unfortunately, there were only two restaurants offering lunch, and one of them looked pretty grubby. So they went to a tidy little lunch room, and Arthur ordered a burger and Merlin ordered a tuna sandwich. They shared an order of chips with lots of vinegar, and ate quickly, wanting to get back on the road.

Everything seemed to be going along fine, until about an hour after their stop Arthur noticed that Merlin had gotten quiet. He looked over and saw that Merlin had gone very pale. He was about to ask him if everything was okay when Merlin said in a very tight clipped voice, “Arthur, pull over. Now.”

Arthur knew that urgent tone from many raucous party nights in uni, and immediately put his turn signal on and pulled over on the shoulder of the busy motorway. Merlin had the car door open almost before they came to a stop, and bolted a couple of feet from the car before bending over and becoming violently ill.

Arthur got out of the car and placed one hand firmly on Merlin’s upper back for comfort, and watched helplessly as Merlin retched. When it was finally over he offered Merlin his handkerchief to wipe his face and said, “I’ve got some water in the car, just hold on one minute.”

Merlin was slumped over with his hands on his knees, looking perfectly miserable. Arthur quickly got the bottle of water and opened it, handing it to Merlin, and warning, “Don’t try to drink yet, just rinse the taste out of your mouth.”

Merlin did as Arthur asked, and Arthur supported him back to the car, helping him in. Arthur got in himself and looked at Merlin with concern. Merlin had his head leaning against the window, and looked truly awful. He was as pale as death, and his breathing was shallow.

“Do you think it’s the flu?” Arthur asked, his voice full of concern. Merlin shook his head, then winced at the movement. “No, I think it was that damned tuna sandwich. It tasted a bit odd, but I thought I was imagining things.”

“Oh Christ, food poisoning? We need to get you to an A & E, right now.”

Merlin was smart enough not to try to shake his head again, but he protested weakly. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m sure that now it’s out of my system, I’ll be fine in a little while. Could I have some water now?”

“Not too much,” Arthur cautioned, and Merlin dutifully took just two sips. Arthur helped Merlin with his seat belt again, and as he carefully pulled back onto the highway, Merlin said, “I think the worst of it is over.”

Unfortunately, Merlin was wrong. Five minutes later they had to pull over so Merlin could throw up again, and this time Arthur was adamant that Merlin had to see a doctor. Arthur used his Bluetooth to Google the nearest A & E, and drove there as fast as was safe.

The hospital registration was efficient, possibly spurred on by the fact that Merlin had to ask for a basin midway through the process. Within a short time Merlin was lying on a bed in a treatment room, his skin the exact same color as the sheets. Merlin gave the history about a dozen times, and they established that the only thing Merlin had eaten that day that Arthur had not also eaten was the tuna.

The nurses took Merlin’s vital signs and started an IV to restore Merlin’s fluids and electrolytes, and the examining doctor said that the absence of a fever and the violence of the vomiting were more indicative of food poisoning than a stomach bug. She assured Arthur and Merlin that the health department would close down the restaurant and do a sanitary inspection, and told Merlin she would be back to check on him in an hour or so.

Right after she left, Merlin had another episode of vomiting, and unfortunately there was almost nothing left in his stomach to sick up, so he had a wretched ten minutes of dry heaves and severe stomach cramps. Arthur rang for the nurse as soon as it started, and when it was finally over she pushed him toward the door, saying, “He needs a Compazine suppository, and we need some room to clean him up and make him more comfortable. Go get a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, and come back in twenty minutes. Your partner will be feeling much better by then.”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but she gave him a truly quelling look, and he decided the wisest course was to do as he was told.

It was only when he was sitting in the cafeteria drinking a cup of blistering-hot, tasteless coffee that he realized that she thought Merlin was his partner.

At that point it hardly seemed to matter. All that mattered was for Merlin to get better.

Arthur finished his coffee and sent texts to Morgana and Lance informing them of Merlin' s illness. He asked them to fill in the others.

By the time he got back from the cafeteria, Merlin was asleep. He was lying in the center of the bed and had the sheets pulled up to his armpits, with his arms lying limply outside the covers. He had a tinge of pinkness on his cheeks, and Arthur had to admit that the nurse had been right, he did look like he was doing better.

Merlin was sleeping, but even though Arthur moved to the chair by his bedside as quietly as he could, Merlin half woke up. He gave Arthur a somewhat goofy smile, and Arthur made a mental note to find out exactly what medications he had been given.

“Feeling better?” Arthur asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, they stuck something up my arse to stop the puking, and it worked like a charm. They said if I rested and didn’t get any worse in the next few hours, they’ll let me out of here.”

“That’s good,” Arthur said in the same quiet voice. Merlin didn’t seem terribly awake, and sleeping was surely the best thing for him. “Try to go back to sleep, okay?”

Merlin was fading out even as Arthur spoke, and Arthur scooted the chair a bit closer so he could take Merlin’s hand. He stroked his thumb over the soft skin at the inside of Merlin’s wrist, and watched him sleep.

As usually happened with emergency treatment, it was somewhat more than a few hours before Merlin was given the okay to leave. He slept for most of it, and looked much more like he belonged in the land of the living when he woke up, although he was still pale, and he seemed a little shaky when he got out of bed to get dressed.

The discharge instructions said that he would need rest and lots of clear fluids, and he was told to follow up with a physician in two or three days.

“Yeah, like I’ll be able to see a doctor on the 25th or 26th,” Merlin grumbled, and Arthur was happy to hear him sounding more like himself, even as he made a mental note to take Merlin to their family doctor in Scotland as soon as he could.

Once he had his shoes and jacket on, Merlin looked at the clock on the wall, which showed that it was eight p.m. “I guess if we don’t make any stops we can be in Aberdeenshire by 1 a.m. or so. Did you text Morgana and tell her we’ll be late?”

“Could you be any more ridiculous, Merlin?” Arthur huffed. “As if I would make you ride in a car all night when you just got up from a hospital bed! While you were doing your Sleeping Beauty routine, I found us a good place to spend the night.”

Merlin got indignant at that reference. “Please. I’m hardly a beautiful princess waiting to be awakened by true love’s kiss.”

“Could have fooled me,” Arthur parried.

But the truth was, sick as he had been, Merlin really had been beautiful, even in the eerie light of the hospital monitors. Arthur hadn’t had much to do while Merlin slept, except for making the call to find them a place to stay and texting Morgana to tell her about the delay. He’d scrolled idly through his phone, reading news articles and checking on Facebook, but mostly he’d just watched Merlin. With Merlin’s face in perfect repose, it was hard not to notice his clear skin, his thick dark hair curling around his face, and the sweet curves of his mouth. His hands, resting on the sheets, had looked tempting, with long elegant fingers that looked like they could do amazing things.

Sometime during his vigil, Arthur had realized that he was sexually attracted to Merlin. In fact, he felt like an idiot for not noticing it before. He considered himself bi, since he enjoyed sex with both men and women, but he had to admit that lately his taste had turned to skinny dark-haired men.

He probably should have realized before this trip that most of his latest hookups had been of a particular type, and the type was that of his best friend of eight years. He’d always known he cared deeply about his friend, but now he knew his feelings were of a romantic, sexual nature.

It felt like it had been a long day, and he was exhausted from worrying about Merlin. And besides, he had a job to do, and that was to get Merlin tucked up in a real bed so he could sleep off the last effects of his illness. He needed to sort all this out in his own mind before approaching Merlin.

He didn’t even know if Merlin was into guys, although Gwaine seemed to think so.

Arthur realized that he had been lost in his thoughts when Merlin tapped him on the shoulder and said, “So, can we get out of here, or what?”

Arthur put his coat on and said, “Your carriage awaits, princess,” just to see Merlin blush.

Merlin seemed okay walking to the car, although Arthur kept a hand on his elbow just in case. Once they were in the car and Arthur was starting the engine, Merlin reopened the subject of pushing on to Scotland.

“I really don’t mind, you know. I can probably sleep in your car just as well as in some hotel, and then we would be there in the morning to see everyone else.”

“Nope,” Arthur said firmly. “I’ve got it all figured out. You can sleep this off, and if we leave at a decent hour we can be at Dragonshead for a late lunch.” Merlin seemed like he wanted to argue some more, so Arthur put an end to it by saying, “I got a last minute deal on the room, it’s nonrefundable, and I could use some time to chill out myself. It wasn’t exactly a piece of cake seeing you so sick, you know. You scared me.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, sounding chastened. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you did. So can you for once in your life do what you’re told and just let me take care of you?”

Merlin didn’t smile. He searched Arthur’s face for a moment, and said quietly, “Okay.”

The woman who owned the bed and breakfast had been charming on the phone, and very sympathetic when Arthur had told her about Merlin’s situation. She assured him that she had a room that would be perfect for them.

Arthur had been quite certain that he had told her he wanted a double room. He’d even considered asking for two rooms, but he really didn’t want to sleep apart from Merlin in case he got sick again in the night. So he thought a room with two beds would be ideal.

The proprietor, Mrs. Monmouth, had been all hospitality as she showed them to their room, promising to bring up tea and a hot water bottle for Merlin as soon as they were settled. She unlocked the door to their room and opened it with a flourish, saying proudly, “It’s my best room, I call it the Bridal Suite.”

Merlin and Arthur looked into the room, eyes wide. It was certainly very pretty, with pale grey walls and lacy white curtains. It didn’t have a lot of the frou-frou and over-accessorizing that plagued a lot of country inns, and it looked clean and bright.

It was dominated by a large four-poster bed, hung with red velvet curtains. That was the problem. It was a bed, not two beds.

Mrs. Monmouth was chattering on, “The door to the loo is just there in the corner, and there’s a gas log, that will make it cheerful in here. We just changed the bed hangings to the red ones, very Christmas-y, don’t you think? And-”

Arthur interrupted the gentle flow of words. “Ma’am, I thought I asked for a double room?”

“Oh, no worries, love, it’s a king-sized bed, plenty of room for both of you even if your young man isn’t feeling well.”

Arthur tried again. “The thing is, Mrs. Monmouth, we aren’t actually a couple.”

“You’re not?” She was astounded. “But when you talked about him on the phone, you sounded so concerned, and wanting the best for him and everything, I was so sure that you loved him….”

She broke off and looked at the two men before her. Arthur was slowly turning red, and Merlin was looking down and shifting his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly.

“Right, then,” she said cheerily. “Apparently we had a failure to communicate, and that’s on me. Unfortunately all my other rooms are booked, and I doubt you’d find anything else in town. And this poor lamb really looks like he needs to lie down. But there’s still plenty of room in here for the two of you, the bed is huge, and you’re just skin and bones,” she said, turning to Merlin. “It’s just the one night, after all, and clearly the two of you are good friends who trust each other.” She ended, in a voice that brooked no dissent, “Everything is going to be fine.”

There wasn’t much to do except say “Yes, ma’am.” Arthur didn’t relish the prospect of getting back in the car and trying to find a place in the next village, and Merlin looked dead on his feet.

Arthur had been carrying both of their bags, and he set them down with a thump and sighed. “We’ll probably be making an early night of it. If you could bring the tea up here, he takes sugar in his, probably best to leave out the milk this time, and maybe some saltines or dry toast?”

She rushed off to prepare the tea, but before she left she turned back and said, “Remember, no harm in sharing a big bed when you’re young and in a pinch. Nothing will happen.”

But just before she closed the door she added a parting shot, “Unless you both want it to.”

Her matchmaking was so ridiculous that they both burst out laughing as soon as the door closed behind her, and that eased the tension of the situation they found themselves in.

Merlin gasped out between chortles, “I can see why you would want to seduce me, I look really good with my hair all flat and sweaty and various bodily fluids splashed all over my clothes.”

“Yeah, all part of my master plan, get you all turned on by needles stuck in your arm and beeping machines and then have my wicked way with you.”

By this time, Merlin was doubling over with laughter. Arthur thought the situation wasn’t really that funny, and wondered if Merlin was getting a bit hysterical as a delayed reaction to the pain and anxiety of the day. At that point Merlin seemed to realize that his stomach was still sore, and he doubled over, clutching at his middle and saying, “Stop it, it hurts to laugh!”

Arthur didn’t like the idea of Merlin hurting again, so he took charge. “Get in bed now, that’s an order.” He reviewed the sentence in his mind and decided it hadn’t quite come out right, but fortunately Merlin didn’t seem to notice anything. In a softer tone, he said, “If I were you, I’d be under the covers before she comes back. She looks like the type who might want to help you get undressed.”

“Good point,” Merlin grinned, and sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes and socks before he stood up and unself-consciously started stripping off his clothes.

It was no big deal, they’d changed in front of each other dozens of times over the years, and even fallen asleep in the same room several times, although they had never actually shared a bed.

Still, Arthur couldn’t help but notice the long lean lines of Merlin’s torso as he pulled his hoodie and t-shirt over his head.

Arthur had put Merlin’s duffle bag on the luggage rack in the corner, and Merlin walked toward it, unbuttoning his jeans as he went. Merlin pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants and kept his back to Arthur as he shucked out of his jeans and underwear in one smooth move.

Arthur’s mouth went dry as he saw the flash of smooth white skin, but before he could get embarrassed about it there was a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” he called, as Merlin dived into the bed and leaned against the pillows, clutching the covers almost up to his chin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect your virtue,” Arthur joked as he opened the door.

Mrs. Monmouth was as good as her word, bringing a hot water bottle that she insisted on tucking in at Merlin’s feet while he mouthed “Help me” at Arthur.

She also brought a tea tray with piping hot Earl Grey and toast soldiers, as well as a ham sandwich and a packet of crisps for Arthur. Arthur realized that he was hungry, since he’d been too tense to eat anything at the hospital.

Once Mrs. Monmouth was gone, Arthur brought the tea tray to the bed and poured out a cup for Merlin, adding extra sugar because he figured Merlin needed some calories despite the IV fluids he’d received. He changed his own clothes while Merlin sipped at the tea, calling, “Gotta pee,” as he carried his nightclothes into the bathroom.

He didn’t need Merlin to see that he was still hard from the brief glimpse of lovely arse he’d seen while Merlin was changing.

Arthur was back a few minutes later, having willed his erection down while he splashed cold water on his face. They had a little picnic on the bed, and even though Merlin had nothing but a couple of strips of toast and the tea, it seemed to do him good.

Arthur put the tray outside the door and made sure it was locked. Mrs. Monmouth was friendly, but seemed a bit over-interested in them, and they didn’t want her walking in to check on Merlin in the middle of the night.

Arthur texted Morgana again, telling her that Merlin was feeling much better and giving her an estimated arrival time for the next day. She wanted to call, but Arthur told her Merlin was too tired, and promised he would call her in the morning.

He and Merlin talked quietly for a while after they ate, but when Merlin’s eyes started drooping, Arthur turned out the light.

The bed was plenty big enough for the two of them, and very comfortable, but it took a while for Arthur to fall asleep. Merlin went out like a light, and Arthur lay listening to the even sounds of his breath and thinking that he was totally screwed.

Arthur was awakened in the middle of the night by a sound from Merlin. He sat bolt upright, about to ask Merlin if he was okay, when his brain caught up with his hearing and he realized that it was his own name that had brought him to consciousness.

He had left the bathroom light on in case Merlin needed to get up in the night or got sick again, and in the dim light he could see that Merlin was still asleep. He had flipped the blankets off his body and was lying in a lovely display for Arthur, flat on his back with his chest bare and his legs open.

As he watched, Merlin stirred, and again said, “Arthur” in a slightly louder voice. And as Arthur observed him with mingled horror and delight, Merlin reached for his own crotch, where his erect prick was clearly outlined.

Arthur froze, unsure what to do. He really didn’t want to watch Merlin wank, but he didn’t want to wake him up, either.

Fortunately for Arthur’s sanity, Merlin seemed to be having some sort of erotic dream and was not really awake enough to act on it. As Arthur watched, Merlin contented himself with a quick squeeze of his package, and with a moan rolled over on his side and conked out.

Arthur waited a good five minutes to make sure Merlin was really deeply asleep, then gently placed the covers back over him.

Arthur didn’t sleep much after that.

To Arthur’s immense relief, Merlin didn’t seem to remember waking up the night before.

Mrs. Monmouth brought coffee to their room, and Arthur was happy when Merlin reached for it, saying, “Gimme!” If he craved coffee, he must be feeling better.

The bathroom was tiny, so they had to take turns. Arthur let Merlin go first, telling him that he had to answer Morgana’s text demanding to know how Merlin was.

He called her, and patiently answered all of her worried questions, assuring her that Merlin was pretty much recovered and that they would be on their way soon. He could tell that several people were hovering in the background at her end, demanding more information. Finally there were so many voices that he could barely hear her and he said, “Look, he’s fine, we should be getting underway. You can all fuss over him when we get there, okay?”

Morgana finally let him go after he promised that he would have Merlin call her once they were on the road. He rung off just as Merlin stepped out of the bathroom, his skin pink from the hot water and a towel knotted precariously around his slender hips. He was scrubbing at his wet hair with another towel. With his arm up Arthur got a nice view of the dark curly hair in his armpit.

Arthur grabbed his things and beat a hasty retreat into the bathroom before Merlin’s towel lost its battle with gravity.

There was only so much a man could endure.

Mrs. Monmouth served a Full English, and Arthur observed that Merlin didn’t seem to have any issue with eating, although he ate lightly. His color was much better today, although he still looked somewhat peaked, and Arthur made a mental note to make Merlin rest once they got to the estate.

Once they were in the car, Merlin was almost as chatty as he had been the previous morning, and when they got off the motorway onto the country roads, he was enchanted by everything he saw.

Arthur smiled at him indulgently, remembering that Merlin had never been to Scotland and had been cooped up in London since late summer. Merlin loved open green spaces.

The time flew by because they were both in good moods, and Arthur enjoyed seeing the familiar landmarks through Merlin’s eyes. They only had to stop once for a herd of curly sheep crossing the road, and while Merlin watched the sheep Arthur watched him, delighted by his enthusiasm.

The day had been clear and sunny, but then a sudden rainstorm came up. Merlin worried aloud that they might have bad weather for the holidays, but Arthur laughed at him and quoted a local saying. “In Scotland, there is no such thing as bad weather- only the wrong clothes.”

True to form, the rain stopped as suddenly as it started, and they had pale December sunshine as they reached the town of Ballater, where both Balmoral and Dragonshead were located. Merlin wanted to stop and explore the village, but Arthur said no.

“We can come tomorrow, the shops will be open until noon. Morgana and the other women would kill me if I delayed getting you into their loving hands.”

Merlin grimaced at that, so Arthur added, “Besides, they’re waiting on us for lunch.”

Merlin cheered up at the idea of lunch, and they kept driving.

When they passed the forest at the beginning of the Balmoral Estates, Arthur said, “Wave at the Queen.” Merlin raised his hand obediently, but then dropped it with a horrified look on his face.

“Arthur, you don’t actually know the Queen, do you?”

“You mean in the Biblical sense? No, she’s a lovely lady, but a bit old for me, don’t you think?”

“You do know her, don’t you? And by the way, thanks for that image. I’ll use it next time I have an inconvenient stiffy.”

Arthur really didn’t want to think about Merlin having a stiffy, inconvenient or not, so he answered casually, “Well, I’ve met her. She is our neighbor, after all. Uther and Catrina sometimes spend the day with her and Philip in the summertime.”

By this time Merlin was looking like he was about to have a panic attack, so Arthur mockingly reassured him. “Relax, you won’t run into her. The royal family always spends Christmas at Sandringham, every British schoolchild knows that!”

“I guess I was out that day,” Merlin muttered, but he did look less scared.

As they talked, they arrived at the gates of Dragonshead, which were already open for them.

Arthur turned into the massive circular drive, and Merlin looked totally awed. Dragonshead was no palace, but it was a big country estate on the order of Highclere Castle, where Downton Abbey was filmed.

Arthur had just kindly advised Merlin that he should close his mouth because he looked like a total numpty when the big front doors opened and all of their friends came rushing out.

Morgana and Gwen and Elena and Mithian had Merlin in a group hug as soon as he got out of the car, and Uther and Catrina were acting like grown-ups and waving from the door. The guys shook Arthur’s hand and thumped him on the back, saying things like, “Glad you finally got here!” and “We drank all the good wine while you were gone.”

When the girls finally let go of Merlin, still cooing at him about how awful it was that he’d been so sick and how brave he must have been, Gwaine looped his arm around Merlin’s shoulders and walked him toward the doors, turning around to flash a smug grin at Arthur behind Merlin’s back.

“Probably you should unclench your jaw before you greet your stepmother,” Lance said helpfully, walking beside Arthur toward the entrance.

Merlin and the four women were almost inside, with the group still fussing over him. When Merlin was out of earshot, Arthur heard Percival say to Elyan, “Why is it that Merlin always has the ladies all over him, and we have to beg for their attention?”

Elyan laughed. “That’s an easy one, it’s because he’s safe. Women always seem more free to be themselves around a gay man, and a taken one at that.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks, trying to make sense of what he’d heard. Gay? Taken? What the hell were they talking about?

He was about to turn around and demand answers from Elyan and Percival, but Leon had heard what the other guys said and observed Arthur’s reaction. He came to Arthur’s other side and gently pushed him toward the door. “Not now, Arthur. Uther is waiting.”

So Arthur put his whirling thoughts on hold and went to greet his father and stepmother.

Uther greeted him with affection, a manly handshake, and a tentative pat on the shoulder. Catrina gave him the double-sided air kiss with which she greeted everyone from her oldest friends to the mail carrier.

“Merry Christmas, Father, Catrina,” Arthur said. “So sorry to be late, but it couldn’t be helped.”

“Yes, I understand your friend was quite ill. I do hope he’s fully recovered now.”

“He’s much better, thank you, Father. Catrina, I don’t believe you’ve ever met Merlin, but I’ve told you about him, I’m sure.” He beckoned to Merlin, who was hanging back, clutching Gwen’s hand.

“Catrina, this is my friend, Merlin. Merlin, my stepmother. And this is my father, Uther.”

Merlin looked adorably shy as he shook hands with Catrina and then Uther.

“Very good to meet you, ma’am, sir.”

“Very nice to meet, Merlin,” Catrina purred. “We’ve heard so much about you, haven’t we, darling?”

Arthur was very grateful when Morgana intervened, saying brightly, “Now that we’re all here, we should sit down to lunch. I, for one, am starving.”

Arthur was grateful for Morgana’s tact. She often acted as a buffer between Catrina and him, because she knew that he wasn’t a huge fan of their stepmother.

Lunch was very festive, with champagne flowing freely and lively conversation as the friends all caught up after not seeing each other for two weeks. Arthur watched Merlin as unobtrusively as he could, noting that he was a little quiet, but seemed to be enjoying himself.

Just before dessert came, Arthur politely asked Catrina, as the hostess, if she had any particular plans for the rest of the day. Catrina just laughed and said, “You should ask your sister, I put everything in her competent hands. She planned everything for this holiday, since your father and I are leaving in two days, and she even took over the task of assigning the bedrooms.”

Arthur looked over at Morgana, and saw that she had that “I know something you don’t know” look on her face, the one she had been wearing all too often lately.

He glared at her, and she smiled wickedly, saying, “I put Gwen and Lance in your old room, it has such a lovely view, and I knew you wouldn’t mind.” Arthur rolled his eyes at her as she continued, “Not to worry, I have chosen the perfect place for everyone. Especially Merlin.”

Arthur bided his time, but when the meal was over, he made a point of walking out of the dining room with Morgana and warning her, “If you put Merlin in the same room with Gwaine, I’ll tell Leon about that incident with the tequila and the waiter at Cousin Morgause’s wedding. In detail.”

“Oh, please. We both know that I am so much better at blackmail than you are, you don’t want to start that game with me.”

Arthur had to acknowledge the truth of that statement.

"Besides, you worry too much. I could lock Merlin and Gwaine up in the cellars for a week with no company but each other, and Gwaine still wouldn’t get anywhere with him. And you, dear brother, are an idiot who can’t see past the end of his own nose.”

Everyone else had moved into the lounge to enjoy the fireplace, so Arthur seized his chance. “Morgana, tell me the truth. Is Merlin involved with someone? And is he straight, or gay? I really need to know.”

Her eyes danced and she said mockingly, “Oh, you poor sweetheart. Everyone knows Merlin is gay.”

“Not everyone,” he said grimly. “And who is he involved with? Someone here?”

“Ask him yourself,” she advised, and swept away to join the others.

Morgana insisted that they all go on a tour of the house so she could show off all the holiday decorating she had conscripted the others into doing the night before Arthur and Merlin arrived. The housekeeper had brought everything down from the attics, and Morgana had been in her element, making sure that no room went without its fair share of greenery and red velvet ribbons and fairy lights.

There was a huge tree in the main drawing room, and a smaller one in the breakfast room.

She had also hung mistletoe in every doorway on the first floor, and some on the second and third floors as well.

If two people happened to be in a doorway at the same time, a chorus of catcalls and encouragement rose up, to the point that everyone but the established couples (and Gwaine) hesitated before entering or leaving the area.

When the tour was done, the group wandered off in ones and twos for a low key afternoon, and Arthur walked over to Merlin, saying, “Let’s go see where Morgana stashed your things.”

As he and Merlin walked upstairs, companionably bumping shoulders when they made the turn on the landing of the main stairwell, Arthur devoutly hoped that Morgana had put a good distance between his and Merlin’s bedrooms.

Given his recent realization that he wanted to bend Merlin over any available surface, and the stresses of the previous day and night, he wanted some privacy for a nice long relaxing wank.

His hopes were dashed when he walked past the second open door and saw that both his and Merlin’s bags were outside the door.

“I’m gonna kill her,” he said under his breath, when it looked like there was only one bed in the room, and a smallish one at that, a double. He really wasn’t up for sharing a bed with Merlin two nights in a row. Well, actually, he was up for it, and that was the problem.

And as if his threat had summoned her, Morgana was suddenly right behind them, smiling lazily at them.

“Don’t get angry, darling, it’s Christmas! See, I had another bed put in the corner, the two of you will be very comfortable. And you even have your own en suite, so you won’t have to queue up for a shower with everyone else.”

For what felt like the tenth time that day, Arthur glared at Morgana.

It was true that Dragonshead, like many big country houses, had fewer bathrooms per bedroom than the modern norm. And that this particular room, originally used by Helen the nanny, was the only bedroom other than Uther’s that had its own bathroom.

But in Arthur’s mind, the convenience of that was outweighed by the fact that he would be exposed to more naked Merlin, skin pink from hot water and steam, languidly drying himself off, perhaps walking into the bedroom and throwing his towel in the corner….

Arthur stopped himself before he went mad. He even managed to join Merlin in thanking Morgana for her thoughtfulness, although his gratitude was considerably less enthusiastic than his friend’s.

Once Morgana left, they did a little unpacking, and then Merlin yawned and said, “Do you mind if I lie down before dinner? I’m still kind of knackered from yesterday.”

Arthur thought that was a good idea, and insisted that Merlin take the bigger bed, saying he would just curl up and read on the small one. And that was his intention, but apparently the champagne at lunch and the trials of the day before gave his body different ideas. Once Merlin was asleep, Arthur read for a few minutes, and then gave up and decided to lie down and close his eyes, just for a minute.

His last conscious thought was that he wished he was curled up next to Merlin.

When he woke up, the light through the windows indicated that it was late afternoon. He heard the shower running, and just lay in the bed enjoying the luxury of waking up slowly after an unexpected nap and the pleasure of being on holiday, with long days with no responsibilities stretching ahead.

Merlin came out of the shower into the bedroom, looking exactly like Arthur’s fantasies, all long legs and tousled hair. He perched on the edge of the double bed, his legs wide open but covered by the towel, and Arthur thought, I wonder if he knows how much that looks like an invitation.

The beds were about five feet apart, and Merlin looked at him seriously across the distance, seemingly waiting for Arthur to say something. Arthur’s mouth went dry as Merlin continued to look at him intensely, and before he knew what he was saying, he said, “Merlin, why did you turn down my invitations for so many years in a row? You must know I wanted you here.”

Merlin looked down, gathering his thoughts, and then squared his shoulders and answered honestly. “I was afraid of too much proximity to you. You always seemed to have some woman coming with you, Sophia one year, Vivian the next, and I can’t even remember the other names. But this year you were between girlfriends, so.…”

Arthur hoped Merlin didn’t hear the croak in his voice when he replied,

“Why did it bother you that I usually brought a girlfriend?”

Merlin got up and crossed the room to sit next to Arthur, reaching out with one hand to cup Arthur’s cheek. “Why do you think?” he asked, his voice low.

It happened fast after that, maybe too fast. Arthur wrapped his hand around the back of Merlin’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Merlin unself-consciously tugged his towel off and tossed it to the floor, climbing on top of Arthur on the narrow bed.

Arthur was still fully clothed, on top of the covers. They were so eager that they clacked their teeth together rather painfully, and then they started laughing before they attacked each other again. They didn’t bother with getting under the covers, or even with getting Arthur properly undressed. Merlin just pulled the front of Arthur’s shirt out from his jeans while Arthur fumbled with his zipper with one hand and kneaded Merlin’s arse with the other.

Arthur groaned when he finally was able to wrap his hand around Merlin’s hot, thick prick, but the angle was wrong and Merlin was rutting against him frantically, too lost to worry about finesse.

“Right, this isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Arthur said grimly, and took control by flipping Merlin off him and arranging them so that they were lying side by side, only a few inches between them. Merlin was shaking and grabbing for him, his eyes wide and wild, but Arthur said, “Ssh, It’s okay, I’ll take care of you.” He lined up his prick with Merlin’s and wrapped one hand around them both, leaning over Merlin and gazing into his eyes as he rapidly jerked them off.

It was a bit uncomfortable and a little too dry, but it did the trick. Merlin kept his eyes open until the last possible second before his hot seed spurted over Arthur’s hand, making it wetter for Arthur as he came himself.

Afterward, almost unable to move, he maneuvered Merlin’s limp form enough that he could reach under him and grab the blankets, pulling them up over both of them as he cradled Merlin to his chest.

They dozed off again without even bothering to clean up, and when they awoke the room was dark. Merlin stretched and said, “Well, that wasn’t very elegant,” but he was smiling, so Arthur didn’t worry.

“Oh, hush,” he answered. “It was perfect. And it will be better next time.”

“That’s kind of contradictory, isn’t it?” Merlin teased, but then Arthur looked at the clock and said, “Shit! We were supposed to be downstairs ten minutes ago.”

It was a mad rush for Merlin to get cleaned up and Arthur to do a three minute shower, but they were dressed and and presentable in short order. They headed into the empty hallway and down the stairs, and thinking they were alone, Arthur grabbed Merlin’s shirt on the landing and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

The kiss was interrupted by applause and catcalling, and they looked down to see all of their friends, as well as Uther and Catrina, watching them. Gwaine was bouncing up and down and cheering, Elena and Mithian were pointing at them and hugging, and Percival and Elyan were high-fiving each other. Leon and Morgana were grinning like the Cheshire cat, and Gwen and Lance had tears in their eyes.

Arthur shrugged and kissed Merlin again, deeper this time, as he dipped Merlin down like Ginger Rogers, so his back arched and the top of his head was a foot from the floor.

Amid laughter and congratulations and variations on “Took you two long enough,” they all went in for Christmas dinner.

During lulls in the conversation, Merlin and Arthur whispered to each other, eyes shining. And before the pudding came, they announced that they were in moving together.

The whole table leapt to its feet in a spontaneous toast, and the happy couple blushed as they acknowledged the salute. "To Merlin and Arthur!"