Archive of Our Own

"And that is how I ended up in bed with them," Gwaine finished with a flourish.

He let the words hang in the air for a second, relishing in his captivated audience, then smiled lecherously and winked at Arthur, who'd just arrived.

"At the same time."

His friends groaned loudly at the addition, Leon putting his face between his hands in mock despair while Gwen simply shook her head disapprovingly. Percival, for his part, armed an elbow and jammed it in Gwaine's flank, lightly enough so that his friend's reaction was a chuckle rather than a moan of well-deserved pain.

"Gwaine's playing up his sexual prowess again?" Arthur chimed in with an indulgent smile, shrugging off his jacket before letting himself fall into his chair.

The Rising Sun wasn't crowded by any means, as the night was still young, but Arthur still had to raise his voice to be heard. At his jab, Gwaine raised an appraising eyebrow, and his voice turned to a horrible rendition of Arthur's own.

"Well, hello, friends," he piped up. "How are you, friends? So nice of you to secure me a chair in the best bar of all Camelot, friends. As I am late. Again. Please let me offer you all a drink for the trouble."

Leon snorted, spraying beer on an indignant Percival, and Gwaine looked terribly smug for the time it took Leon to stop laughing. Once Percival had wiped his face, though, Gwaine turned back to Arthur, a calculating twinkle in his eyes.

"Besides, what would you know about sexual prowess?" he taunted, roguish grin firmly in place. "You're not getting any."

He leaned back on his stool, expectant, and pouted when he realized there was no backrest, his nonchalant pose thus ruined.

"I've been getting plenty, Gwaine", Arthur replied, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, wincing at the reminder that he hadn't taken off his contact lenses yet. "It's been a while, is all."

"Oh, but we know that," Gwaine retorted. "When was the last time you got laid, exactly?"

Arthur leveled him with a blank stare, hoping Gwaine would see how tired he was and let it go, but he should have known better; his friend had never been the merciful kind.

"Mithian," Leon chimed in, pretending to be helpful.

He drank a large gulp of beer, then wiped the traces of foam from his upper lip, the very picture of innocence. He even dared to shrug as Arthur glared at him, a what-can-I-do gesture that did nothing to appease Arthur's nerves. There was no way Gwaine would leave him alone now, and Leon looked too proud of himself for his quip to have been an accident.

Sure enough, Gwaine whipped his head toward him, eyes wide as saucers, and Arthur felt the familiar twinge of a headache poking behind his eyelids.

"Mithian?" Gwaine inevitably bellowed, looking gobsmacked. "You haven't gotten any since Mithian? But it's been months!"

The ambient chatter died down as several heads turned toward them, full of amused eyes and arched eyebrows. Arthur even caught a snicker or two directed at him and felt his cheeks heat under the scrutiny. Gritting his teeth, he diverted his attention to an unfazed and unfairly smug Gwaine.

"Say it louder next time," he hissed, embarrassed. "I don't think your grandmother heard you."

Gwaine's grandmother was not only living on the other side of town, but she was also absolutely, resolutely, one hundred percent deaf. It had taken her grandson lots of yelling to figure it out, and the lovely woman had become an ongoing joke between them ever since. Gwaine, for once, didn't rise to the bait and waved his hand into the air, expressing how little he cared about Arthur's misery. At this moment, there was nothing Arthur wanted more than to wipe his grin off his face. In a preferably very painful way.

"I don't know how the blue balls haven't killed you yet," Gwaine said, shaking his head in commiseration. "I know I would be dead already."

Gwen slapped his wrist, chiding, but Arthur's retort died on his lips and he snapped his mouth shut, not quite knowing how to answer. Gwaine was right, in a way, to point out that Arthur missed sex: he appreciated human closeness as much as the next bloke, and had never been shy about liking the inherent intimacy of it. But sex, for him, had never been as mind-blowing as Gwaine made it out to be, leaving him feeling vaguely empty and unsatisfied.

It had taken him a long time to figure out why, but since he had, casual hookups had lost their appeal. Gwaine would say that it was because he still wasn't over Mithian, but Gwaine didn't know the full story - namely, that Arthur wasn't sure how to approach the sex-with-men-for-newbies part.

One thing was sure, realizing he was gay at twenty-three sucked.

Thankfully, Percival, who was way more perceptive than he was usually given credit for, seemed to sense the shift of his mood and came to his rescue, rolling his eyes at Gwaine's antics and smacking the back of his head with a shovel-sized hand.

"And we would all be a little more at peace because of it," he commented dryly. And then, because Arthur could never catch a break, added: "Still, Arthur, I think he's right. I know the breakup wasn't easy for you, and Mithian was great, but it won't do you any good to mope after her."

"I agree," Gwen said, voice a little quieter than the others and full of sollicitude. "We've all had difficult breakups, we understand what it's like, but you need to move on."

"He does, doesn't he?" Leon let out with an exasperated sigh, and clearly, if Leon weren't practically married to Morgana, Arthur would have maimed him by now.

While his breakup with Mithian had indeed been complicated, what had overwhelmed Arthur afterwards had been relief, rather than grief. Mithian, for her part, had been more disappointed than heartbroken, and when Arthur had gathered the courage to explain why he was breaking up with her, she had been very understanding.

But Leon obviously knew all that, since he and Morgana had been the first Arthur had told he was gay. Besides them both, only Mithin knew. But while Leon was an honorable man, steadfast and loyal, and great at keeping secrets, he had one very minor fault: he was way too fond of teasing Arthur.

"Wait, wait", Gwaine butted in, waving his hands to get Arthur's reluctant attention.

Arthur's being distracted had way more to do with the way Gwaine's beer was dangerously sloshing in his glass, but Gwaine didn't seem to care.

"You mean to say," he continued, eyes nearly pleading, "that this is the reason you've been moping lately? Because you're still hung over the girl you dumped months ago?"

"I believe it's been a year," Gwen chimed in, ever the gentle soul, her eyes filled with compassion.

"It has," Percival confirmed, emphasizing his words with a decisive nod and wisely ignoring Arthur's scowl.

"An entire year?" Gwaine yowled, slamming his beer back on the table which prompted a glare from the bartender. "Fuck, Arthur, what's happening to you?"

"Oh, I don't know," Arthur replied dryly, "maybe I'm not looking for anyone just now? It's not as if I have time for a relationship, anyway."

That, at least, was perfectly true: ever since he and Morgana had taken over their father's company, their workload had increased tenfold, and they often ended up staying overnight at the office. That night, though, Morgana had sent him away with a withering glare and an order to have some fun, damn it, which is why Arthur had ended up at the closest pub with some of their friends.

Friends who, for now, were watching him a mixture of pity and exasperation. If that was Morgana's idea of fun, Arthur was very glad not to be her.

"We've been over this, mate," Gwaine said, his frown deepening at the tension oozing from Arthur's body. "What you need is a shag, not a wedding."

"We've been over this, mate," Arthur said, stressing the words and adding a meaningful raise of the eyebrows for good measure. "What I need is to be left the fuck alone."

"Ooooh, touchy," Gwaine mocked, swirling the last dregs of his beer in his glass. "Look at how strung up you are. Seems to me that you really need that shag."

Arthur, after living with Uther, and then Morgana, for years, was familiar with passive-aggressive barbs and playful banter. Gwaine's words, though far from kind, weren't anything he wasn't used to, and besides, Arthur knew Gwaine was only trying to get a rise out of him, not to truly upset him.

Yet, when he heard Leon hum in acquiescence, Arthur saw red. Headache pounding - and fuck, he had forgotten his glasses at the office again - he turned to Gwaine, a hard smile on his lips.

"Right," he drawled, his voice dripping sarcasm, "because I'm the only one with a desperate love life, aren't I? It's not as if you're shagging women left and right because you're too much of a coward to ask Ellie out."

Gwaine paled, eyes bulging, and he threw a surreptitious glance at the bartender, who was currently pouring a drink to a tall and admittedly very good looking man. It wasn't much of a secret that Elena was the reason Gwaine always insisted they come to that particular bar, even if it was far from his flat.

"Or how about the fact that you," Arthur added, rounding on Leon, "still haven't popped the question to my sister, despite having bought the ring weeks ago?"

Leon blinked, thrown off-balance by the height of Arthur's anger. And rightfully so: it was quite rare of Arthur to lose his temper like this. Maybe it was because of how tired he was, or because of the familiar itching in his eyes that always ended up burning if he dared to keep his contacts on for too long, but this time Arthur couldn't contain his ire.

"And you, Perce, how long much longer are you going to wait before taking Mithian out on a date? It's been a year. I'm over her. She's over me. Please go ahead."

Percival barely managed not to choke on a peanut, his cheeks stained a lovely red. Arthur didn't wait for his reply, though.

"And Gwen, you've been making heart-shaped eyes at that bloke ever since I arrived," he said, gesturing toward a nearby table. "You could, I don't know, go give him your number?"

Gwen frowned, a ‘Why did you drag me into this I haven't said anything’ look in her eyes. She looked faintly wounded, and Arthur winced: Gwen was probably the nicest person he knew, and she didn't deserve him lashing out - even less so as she had been nothing short of supportive after his breakup, bringing him homemade cookies and dragging him out when he tried to wallow in his gay-epiphany induced misery.

Irritation dying out, he rubbed gingerly at his eyes and stole Gwaine's drink, downing the rest of his beer in one go.

"Sorry, Gwen," he sighed. "I'm getting the next round, okay?"

His chair scraped on the floor as he stood, and he walked to the counter, feeling his friends stare dumbfounded at his back.

It was on his way to the bar, as he tried to slalom between the merry groups of friends and occasional lone drinkers, that he barreled into the man Elena had been serving earlier, causing him to spill his drinks. Arthur groaned in annoyance, feeling the sticky alcohol seep under his shirt and on his skin, ruining his clothes and his hopes to salvage the night.

"Watch where you're going, will you?" he grunted, side-stepping the other man, who at least had the grace to look apologetic.

That particular expression vanished from his face the second he heard Arthur's words, though, and an indignant scowl replaced it.

"You're the one who walked right into me!" he exclaimed. "Even a drunk baboon would have been more careful!"

He gestured at the four now half full drinks he was carrying, ignoring the way Arthur was blinking, stunned stupid by the insult - and by the man's cutting cheekbones, ridiculous ears and striking blue eyes.

"That was the last of my money, you prat," the brunet added, looking miffed. "You could at least apologize."

And with that he stormed off, joining his friends at a nearby table and slamming down the four glasses. Despite the beer clinging to his skin and the pent up exhaustion coiling tight every muscle in his body, Arthur couldn't help but stare at the retreating man, marveling at his rounded arse and mile-long legs clad in tight, dark-washed jeans. The other man sat, obviously ranting, and Arthur quickly turned away when he realized one of his friends was not only the man Gwen had spent the last ten minutes or so admiring from afar, but also staring right back at him.

The flush hadn't quite faded from his cheeks when he leaned against the counter, grimacing at the state of his clothes. He needed to change, but of course he hadn't brought any spare with him, condemning himself to spend the rest of the evening with a slow-drying shirt and burning eyes. He knew he could always leave - he had, after all, the excuse of being tired - but he doubted Gwaine would let him go that easily.

Not after his earlier outburst.

Shrugging off his worry, Arthur appropriated one of the stools beside the counter. Luckily, as it was the middle of the week, the Rising Sun's didn't have many clients and Arthur only had to wait a minute or two before Elena walked to him. She quirked an eyebrow, her smile a little bit on the wide side, yet genuine, and started to energetically towel an empty glass.

"So, Arthur, my dear," she mused, engaging in her own brand of meaningless flirting, "what can I get you tonight? An apology drink for your friends?"

Arthur groaned, and leaned forward to bury his face between his arms as the realization swamped him.

"Tell me you didn't hear any of it," he said pleadingly, voice muffled.

If she had, Gwaine was so going to kill him.

"No, I didn't," Elena replied, chuckling at Arthur's despaired tone. "But from what I could see, they were pretty pissed at you."

She put the glass on the counter and grabbed another, whipping her towel around as she waved at Arthur's friends.

"And," she added conversationally, "you also seemed pretty pissed at them."

Arthur raised his head, blinking blearily, and she cocked her head to the side, curiosity bright in her owlish eyes.

"Don't ask," he grunted. "Please."

"Ah," she said, totally ignoring his words. "Girl trouble?"

She smiled innocently, but the glint in her eyes was way too knowing for her act to be believable. She almost looked like Morgana when she had brought him his favorite sweets from an entire continent away, on the day she had announced her relationship with Leon.

"That's not it, no," he replied, knowing he was revealing too much but not wanting to lie to Elena either. "They were just needling me, nothing serious."

"Boy trouble, then," she amended, eyes twinkling mischievously. "I know a little about those."

Arthur's heart missed a beat at her words, shock warring with dread on his features.

"What...how...you," he sputtered wildly, much to Elena's enjoyment.

"I have eyes, you know," she chided, nose scrunched up. "And from what I can tell, you very much like that boy's arse," she added, pointing at the brunet.

"No I don't."

Arthur's retort came one second too late to be believable, and from Elena's expression, he knew further denial would lead him nowhere.

"Keep telling yourself that," she said, smirking slightly.

Arthur hid his face between his palms, and prayed that none of his acquaintances were in hearing range.

"Am I really that obvious?" he asked, unable to mask the mortification in his voice.

Elena shook her head, and her features softened as she took in Arthur's obvious distress.

"I'm messing with you," she told him, placing several glasses on the counter. "You're fine, I promise. Now, about those drinks?"

Arthur put in his order, careful to pick each of his friends' favorite beverages. Elena nodded and started filling the glasses, keeping up with her usual chatter as she went.

"So that's what it is," she said, "your friends want you to get laid, and you don't want to tell them why you don't?"

Arthur cursed inwardly at her perceptiveness. He supposed judging one's character came with the job - as a bartender, she probably met all sorts of people, and sometimes quick assessments were needed to single out possible trouble. But he'd come to realize that perceptive people rarely left secrets untouched - being friends with Percival had its perks, but discretion wasn't one of them. So he sighed, defeated.

"That's pretty much it, yeah," he admitted.

Normally, he wouldn't be so quick to own up to his failings. Growing up with Uther Pendragon, he'd learned early that being wrong was a sign of weakness, and apologizing for it would not be tolerated. But something in Elena's demeanor invited confidence, so he added:

"And now they're angry because I threw it all back at them. Not my brightest moment."

Elena snorted, putting the last of the glasses on the counter.

"Maybe not," she allowed, her smile full of teeth. "But they were prying. I'd say you were entitled."

Arthur laughed, the clench of his heart relaxing a little, and pointedly raised an eyebrow at Elena.

"Alright, okay," she pouted, faintly sheepish. "But I'm a bartender. I'm allowed. It's practically in my job description."

"Keep telling yourself that," Arthur muttered, making Elena giggle.

He turned toward his friends, intending to wave one of them over to help carry the drinks when he caught sight of Gwaine staring wistfully at him. He contemplated the idea for a second or two, then turned back to Elena.

"Tell me, Ellie," he started, and she frowned a bit. "What do you think of Gwaine?"

"Gwaine?" she repeated, voice rising a bit higher than usual. "You mean your friend Gwaine?"

"Yeah, that one," Arthur replied, waving a hand in Gwaine's general direction.

"Gorgeous piece of arse," Elena said bluntly, and Arthur promptly did a double take, making her laugh. "He can be very sweet as well. But he's a bit of a player."

She tucked a strand of blond hair behind one ear, blushing prettily, and Arthur marveled at how open she was, of how much of herself she was letting him see, even in a potentially embarrassing situation - something he had never been capable of.

"If I were to tell you, in a completely hypothetical way, that Gwaine may be a little smitten with you, would you allow me to give him your number?"

Elena's eyes widened fractionally, shock marring her features. She assessed Arthur with a piercing gaze, trying to decide if he was serious, and then a brilliant, brilliant smile stretched her lips.

"I'd tell you to go for it," she said, shrugging as if she was totally unconcerned, her attitude belied by the weight given to her words. "In fact..." She grabbed a stack of post-its and a pen from behind the counter and quickly scribbled on it. "Here. You give him that for me."

Arthur grabbed the paper and ceremoniously tucked it in his wallet, feigning not to notice Leon coming up beside him and sitting on a stool next to him.

"Thanks, Ellie, you're an angel."

His gaze trailed away, falling despite himself on the brunet's table. He smiled a little, earlier anger completely gone and headache waning. Elena really had this effect on people, uplifting the spirit and quieting turmoils. It was no wonders, really, that Gwaine liked her so much.

"Hey, Elena," he called at her retreating back. "Could you replace whatever they were having?"

He gestured at his soaked shirt as an explanation, and waved a fifty quid bill in her direction. She winked at him and took it without a word, before moving away to serve other customers.

"So," Leon started once she was out of earshot.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, expectant, and Leon grimaced, shaking his head to get rid of the obvious awkwardness.

"I'm really sorry, mate," he said, raking a hand through thick copper locks, looking for all intent and purposes like a kicked puppy. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. I wasn't trying to pressure you or anything, I just thought..."

"It's fine," Arthur interrupted him, a bit taken aback by his friend's earnestness. "It's not that I don't want to tell them. It's just..."

He shrugged his shoulder, frustrated. It wasn't that he was afraid to come out, not really. He knew his friends would be accepting; Gwaine, though firmly straight, had never hinted at being put off by homosexuality - he'd never minded kissing men to win bets, for one; Percival, the embodiment of a gentle giant, would probably hug him tightly enough to pop a rib or two and then continue on as if nothing happened; and Gwen's brother, with whom she was very close, was bisexual, and Gwen had never hinted at that being a problem for her.

It was just that, even after a few months of looking, he hadn't found any man who caught his attention long enough to warrant further involvement, or for whom he could express a genuine interest beside physical attraction. There had been some fumbling in dark corners of a club or two, but nothing that had made Arthur want more - nothing that had made his body heat and heart rate pick up.

Knowing that, Gwaine would probably tell him that he had too high of standards. Or, more precisely, that he was just making a fuss like a twelve-year-old and needed to get it on. But Arthur just hadn't felt that spark with any of the men he'd met, no matter how good looking or how nice they were, and he didn't want to settle for meaningless one-night stands.

"I just thought I would tell them the day I'd have someone to introduce," he admitted, gaze wandering over the nearby tables. "I don't really want to make it into a grand announcement. It's not that big of a thing, you know?"

"It's big for you," Leon pointed out, throwing him a sideways glance before following his eyes to where they'd caught a lean figure and messy black hair. "I mean, you just found an explanation for the disastrous state of your love life, that must count for something."

"I guess so," Arthur replied, hiding a snort at the tentative smile curling Leon's lips. "Anyway, with my stunt from earlier, I doubt Gwaine will let me keep it quiet for very long."

"I'm really sorry, Arthur," Leon replied, eyes a bit wide as he briefly squeezed Arthur's shoulder. "I should have told Gwaine to back off."

Arthur shook his head slightly.

"He wouldn't have listened," he replied, amusement coloring his voice. "You know Gwaine. Once he gets an idea in his head..."

He sighed and turned his head toward his friend, studying him.

"I'm sorry too," he said, making Leon startle. "For earlier."

Guilt welled up inside him at the flash of hurt and uncertainty in Leon's eyes. The memory of the harsh and unfair words he'd thrown at his best friend made him wince and he added:

"I know you're waiting for things to calm down at work, and you're worried she'll say no - which is very stupid, but understandable. And I know you were trusting me about the ring thing. I was lashing out and I shouldn't have."

Leon shrugged, instantly accepting the apology. The man had always been wired like that, a soothing influence on both Pendragon's legendary tempers, unflinching in face of their wrath, yet quick to forgive once they'd calmed down.

He'd also never hesitated to call Arthur out on his bullshit, for which Arthur would forever be grateful.

"We pushed you too far," Leon finally replied. "I can understand that. Just, maybe be gentler next time? Perce is pretty thrown off right now."

"Yeah," Arthur said, faintly embarrassed. "Yeah, alright."

"Also, Gwaine was glaring daggers at your head the entire time you were talking with Elena."

Arthur snorted at the obvious attempt to lighten the mood, gaze trailing back to Gwaine, who was making grand gestures at them to hurry the fuck up. He waved back, unconcerned.

"I guessed as much. Can't say I'm interested, though."

"Obviously not," Leon commented sagely. "It figures tall, lean brunets would be more your type."

Though his words were a bit subdued, he was smirking, and Arthur groaned loudly.

"Not you too," he whined. "I'm not attracted to him, okay?"

Despite himself, his gaze zeroed back on the aforementioned man's table, and he quickly looked away when he realized one of the man's friends was gesturing toward him - with a smile that looked so much like Gwaine's that Arthur did a double take.

"Sure you're not," Leon allowed easily, staring pointedly at Arthur's heating cheeks. "That's why you've sent drinks to his table."

"As a replacement!" Arthur spluttered.

Leon hummed and grabbed three of the glasses, leaving the other two to Arthur as he made his way toward their table - probably more to appease Gwaine than to cut short the conversation. Arthur followed him gingerly, careful not to spill any more beer on his stained shirt, and placed one drink in front of Gwaine before taking a sip of his own, falling back into his chair with a faint thud.

The silence lingered for an awkward second, until Gwaine pointed a threatening finger at Arthur.

"You, my friend," he stated, "are a dick. A huge, massive dick."

"Oh, but I know that," Arthur replied, smirking, and the raise of his eyebrow sent Percival in a fit of coughing.

"Oh no," Gwaine tutted, "no no no. You don't get to take that tone with me. Not until you tell me what the fuck happened."

His grin was amused as he agitated his finger, but his eyes were sharp, scrutinizing Arthur with the utmost attention.

"You're too nosy for your own good, Gwaine, that's what happened."

Arthur's retort fell flat as Percival, Leon and Gwen all raised a dubious eyebrow. It was true that while Gwaine was, in fact, incredibly nosy - he'd once put a microphone in Arthur's bedroom to hear him have sex, which granted, would have been mortifying if Arthur hadn't noticed it right away - Arthur had never lost his temper in such a way. He usually preferred to rebuke him with a laugh and a friendly jab, as did the other three, because for all his faults, Gwaine truly was a good friend.

"See?" Gwaine replied, in a tone way too close to gloating. "Even they don't believe you. Come on, spill."

"Leave it, Gwaine," Arthur said, and this time his tone held a warning.

Gwaine opened his mouth to protest, but Percival used the opportunity to shove a handful of peanuts in it, lightening quick, and Gwaine had no choice but to shut up if he didn't want to choke.

"We talked about this," Gwen piped up, her voice so soft and sweet no one had ever been able to resist it. "If Arthur doesn't want to tell us, we have to respect that."

Arthur threw her a grateful smile, to which she replied with a light one of her own. And things would have been left at that, Arthur knew, if not for Leon, ever the loyal friend, who couldn't resist making good on his promise.

"Seriously, Gwaine, let it go," he said.

The words hung in the air, and Gwaine's eyes narrowed dangerously. He frowned lightly, gaze traveling to Arthur and back to Leon, and then he took a big pull of his drink.

"No," he simply stated, placing the glass back on the table with a gentleness usually foreign to him. "Arthur's my mate. If he's been moping like a lovesick teenager, I want to know why. And you, Leon, my darling," he added in a fake sweet tone, "would have agreed with me and pestered Arthur until he gave up."

"What's your point?" Leon asked warily, and Arthur felt a tame dread settle in his stomach.

"My point is," Gwaine replied, shrugging, "that you know something I don't. And believe me, I will find out what it is."

Arthur barely contained his grimace at the words, fully aware that once Gwaine found a weakness in someone's armor, he would needle them restlessly until they told him exactly what he wanted to know. And no manners of prying were off the table: Gwaine was very much capable of resorting to blackmail if he was so inclined.

That's how he had been the first to find out Morgana and Leon were dating - and Arthur was really curious to know what kind of blackmail material, exactly, Gwaine had on his sister.

"In the meantime," Gwaine added, "I'm going to find you a date."

A wide, guileless smile spread on his face, and Arthur really couldn't fault him for trying. He'd apparently registered that Arthur had no intention of finding a casual hookup, and incorporated that right into his plans. Arthur had no intention of going on a date, either, but he could let Gwaine indulge in his matchmaking fantasies, for once. He'd take it with a smile, maybe play along for a dinner or two - which he would be paying for, obviously - and then excuse himself as delicately as possible.

That, apparently, wasn't taking into account how hard Gwaine had taken his earlier outburst. Because when Arthur's shoulder sagged in defeat, Gwaine's smile turned into a full blown smirk, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.

"Or rather, Princess, you're going to find yourself a date."

Arthur's heart missed a beat, the knowledge of what was coming making a shiver run down his spine. Beside him, Leon's eyes widened in realization, and he elbowed Percival, who shrugged helplessly, out of peanuts to shut Gwaine up. Even Gwen, sweet Gwen who worked at an animal shelter and saved puppies for a living, leveled Gwaine with a stern glare, promising hell and eternal damnation should he even dare to open his mouth. And dare Gwaine did, to Arthur's greatest dismay.

"I bet that you can't find yourself a date before the end of the night."

"Gwaine," Leon started, fully intending to convince him to drop it, anything to make good on his promise to keep Arthur's secret, "can't you just..."

He trailed off as he caught sight of Arthur's expression, the thin line of his lips, the determined set of his jaw. Arthur shook his head slowly, ignoring the wild pounding of his heart, his sweating hands. He knew he wasn't at his best - his eyes were starting to burn like mad, his shirt was stiff in places and still drying in others, and he no doubt had circles under his eyes from too much work and too little sleep - but that wouldn't be enough to deter him from rising to Gwaine's challenge.

Leon sighed, resigned, and motioned for them to continue. Gwaine raised an eyebrow at him, surprised that he didn't try to talk Arthur out of it - as he'd done many times before, when Gwaine's bets were at their most ridiculous - but Leon probably knew it was a losing battle. Arthur had never, in all the years he'd known Gwaine, backed down from a challenge. Not when he'd dared him to run stark naked in the snow, not when he'd promised him free run of his mother's candy store if he was brave enough to propose to Vivian with a candy ring to get her to break up, not even when he'd bet six months of all cleaning tasks in their apartment in uni if Arthur told his father to fuck off, for once - it had been after the Sophia incident, and Gwaine had been pissed.

The whole thing had devolved into a complicated ritual involving precise wording, a different number of witnesses depending on the difficulty of the task - Leon, Percival, Gwaine and Elyan had all been there to record Vivian's piercing shriek when she didn't get the fifty thousand pounds ring she wanted - and a surprisingly extensive set of rules that had never been written down, but that both Arthur and Gwaine knew by heart.

"I win, you tell me what the fuck is going on. And you will owe me a drink for every single detail you miss," Gwaine added, words careful, gaze intent.

Arthur tilted his head to the side, considering the offer. It was his turn to set the terms of the bet, but there wasn't anything he wanted from Gwaine at the moment. And he wasn't particularly inclined to humiliate him in any way, either. He contemplated asking for something he knew Gwaine didn't want to give - his good luck charm, for example, as Gwaine never parted from his rabbit foot - but that would be unnecessarily cruel.

"Fine," he bit out, meeting Gwaine's triumphant gaze head-on. "I win, you ask Elena out. Tonight. No excuses."

Gwaine's eyes narrowed and his cheeks flushed a little, but it was too late for him to withdraw by now, and Arthur didn't even try to hide the satisfied curl of his lips.

"Four witnesses," Gwaine practically growled, slapping a frustrated hand on the table. "You have until the bar closes."

Arthur leaned forward, hiding his nerves under his bluster, and though he knew Leon wasn't fooled, he smiled like he'd already won the prize.

"One witness for you. I'm sure Percival will be delighted to drag you to the counter if you get cold feet."

Percival bobbed his head in assent, crunching on the very last peanut with a mean glance at Gwaine, and it suddenly occurred to Arthur that Gwaine might not have taken the news of Percival being smitten with Mithian well. A lot could have happened in the few minutes Arthur had been gone, and Gwaine had no doubt jumped on the occasion to make a few chosen comments. And if Percival was eager for revenge...

Arthur's smile grew as Gwaine paled, seeming to realize just that.

"With pleasure," Percival grunted once he'd swallowed, and his smile was too full of teeth to be genuine.

Gwaine whipped around to face Arthur, outraged, and waved an accusing finger at him as he extended his other hand.

"You are a sneaky, sneaky bastard."

Arthur shrugged, gracefully shaking his hand to seal the deal, and downed his beer in the process - he'd stolen a glance to the brunet's table, unable to help himself, and his mouth was suddenly dry, as if he'd spent too long in a desert.

"Seriously, though, I've never seen you like this before. What crawled up your arse and died?"

A collective groan welcomed his question, but before Arthur could prevent Leon from launching at Gwaine - and Gwen, it seemed, wasn't too far behind - a hand clamped on his shoulder.

"Gwaine, you know I love you very much, but if you don't stop harassing my brother I'm going to smack you."

Arthur nearly startled at the sound of his sister's voice, right in his ear, and he swiftly turned around, meeting her steely gaze with what could only be a relieved one of his own. She smiled at him, a quick quirk of the lips, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly - or clawed at it, more like - before turning to Gwaine, smirking when Percival grabbed him by the back of his neck to prevent any cowardly escape.

Gwaine, as everyone knew he would, smiled benignly and promptly raised his hands in the universal I surrender gesture - somehow, sometime after Gwaine spilled the beans on her and Leon's relationship, Morgana had managed to exact a terrifying revenge Arthur knew nothing about, except for the fact that Gwaine had never, ever dared blackmailing her again.

"There. That's a good boy."

Gwaine sputtered wildly, caught off guard by the comment, and he gulped down an olive in his haste to retaliate. Gwen was quick to shut him up though, using her purple scarf as a gag, and Percival once more made sure he couldn't even try to escape.

Morgana smiled at them, the green of her eyes twinkling with mischief, and she bent over Arthur's shoulder to place his glasses in front of him, the case clicking on the wooden table as she set it down. She then held up a bunch of fabric in one hand that Arthur quickly recognized as the spare shirt he always kept in his office, in case he didn't have time to go home and change after a night working. He raised an inquiring eyebrow at Leon, who only smiled, shrugging, dispelling all remaining irritation Arthur could have felt from his earlier needling.

Arthur gratefully grabbed the shirt, and Morgana's smile widened as she ruffled his hair with her perfectly manicured hand.

"Here you go, little brother," she said, her tone making Arthur think she was addressing a wayward puppy. "No need to thank me."

Arthur swatted at her hand, grumbling, but Morgana's smirk only widened. As she straightened, however, Arthur caught sight of Leon making weird hand gestures, fruitlessly trying to remain discreet. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Gwen and Gwaine, who were directly facing them, frowning lightly, and he twisted around to find Morgana rummaging furiously through her bag, emerging victorious with her phone in her hand. She quickly read her texts, and Arthur could see her eyes widening almost comically as they snapped back to his face.

"What?" Arthur groused, not liking one bit that she looked stunned and proud in equal measure. "Morgana, what is it?"

Uncaring of his demanding tone, his sister smiled as she would at a cute, yapping dog - and Arthur was frankly starting to tire of the comparison. Morgana, though, despite his obvious annoyance, leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss on his cheek, hugging him from behind.

"Don't freak out, okay? I'm sure he'll like you," she whispered in his ear.

Words suddenly stuck in his throat, Arthur swallowed dryly and nodded, taking strength from the light squeeze Morgana gave his shoulder before moving away. Gwaine was gazing at him intently, as if Arthur was a puzzle he was trying to solve, yet Arthur couldn't for the life of him care about it. Not when it seemed pretty obvious he was going to have to ask the brunet out, because Leon couldn't keep anything from his girlfriend and had obviously told her the whole story.

Arthur doubted the man would want anything to do with him - he had, after all, barreled into him and caused him to spill his drinks earlier - and he suddenly regretted not to have demanded more of Gwaine in case he succeeded. Then, he could nurse his rejection in peace, armed with his favorite beer and bags upon bags of colorful candies.

"I'll be going, then," Morgana said, snapping him back to reality. "I still have work to do."

Her tone was apologetic, and she winced at Gwen's thoroughly disappointed expression before pressing a quick kiss on Leon's dismayed yet understanding smile.

"I promise, as soon as we're settled at work, I'll come over, catch up with you guys. Gwaine?"

The latter, finally free from Gwen's scarf, stuck his tongue out at her, and Morgana's smile turned predatory.

"Remember, I still have the picture."

She winked at Arthur and swiveled on her feet, disappearing at the door like a whirlwind, leaving a bewildered Leon and suspiciously pale Gwaine in her wake.

"Now that was interesting," Percival idly commented. "Is there something you'd like to tell us, Gwaine?"

"Definitely not," Gwaine replied, his voice all out of sorts, his eyes a bit too wide. "Never."

Leon snorted, fully intent on pressing the matter, and Arthur promptly tuned out the conversation, eyes wandering toward the table he'd tried - and failed - to ignore. The brunet sat with three of his friends: a gorgeous man with tanned skinned that could very well be a model from a fashion magazine; a stockier one with messy, unassuming brown hair and ratty jeans; and a lovely woman with dark long hair and a smile that looked almost feral when she spotted him scrutinizing them.

"See something you like?"

Gwaine's leery voice startled Arthur out of his contemplation, prompting alarm bells to go off in his head. His panic was no doubt plainly depicted on his features, for Gwaine added, caressing his stubbled chin, looking pensive:

"She's very pretty, I'd say. You've always had a thing for brunettes, after all. Even if you usually like them taller."

Arthur vainly fought the blush threatening to overcome his cheeks, but Gwaine was thankfully too caught up in his own observation to comment on it.

"Yeah," he choked out, pretending it was the beer's fault when Percival frowned at him. "She's very pretty."

Leon threw him a glance and shook his head, the bollocks, mate written all over his face, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Gwaine, sadly, didn't have the same self-restraint, and it's with false kindness that he offered:

"I could go ask for her number, if you wish. I bet she's a killer in bed. She's got that look about her, you know, like a cat that got the mouse and is figuring out how to eat it?"

Arthur flushed a deeper shade of red at Gwaine's knowing smirk and quickly looked away, desperately trying to find an excuse to flee. Pendragons were no cowards, but in the face of such a man as Gwaine, fleeing sometimes was the wisest option. Eyes falling on the table, Arthur thanked all his lucky stars for Morgana and grabbed his glasses and spare shirt, gesturing vaguely at his face before hurrying to the bathroom. Gwaine's chortle seemed to follow him as he escaped, making him grit his teeth in annoyance and embarrassment both, and it's with a merciful click that the door closed behind him.

He regained his composure as he walked to the sink, sighing deeply, and splashed some cold water on his heated skin, raking his hands through his hair and making his blond locks stand in spikes. Then, he carefully washed his hands and started the painstaking process of removing his contact lenses, pinching the transparent contraptions between his thumb and forefinger before placing them in their cleaning solution.

As if on cue, the hammer thumping his brain receded to a dull ache, and it's with another sigh, this time of relief, that Arthur grabbed the case Morgana had brought him and put the squared, black rimmed glasses on his nose.

He then attempted to wriggle out of his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one and peeling the cloth from his beer-damp skin with a grimace. Without further consideration, he dropped the forever-ruined shirt into the nearest sink, wondering how many rounds of washing it would take to clean the alcohol stain out of the material. He eyed himself in the mirror, and, deciding he really ought to clean up before changing, he wetted a couple of paper towels and used them to remove the stickiness from his skin.

He was about to put on the other shirt when the door to the bathroom opened and he turned toward the sound, an apology at the ready.

"Sorry, I was just..."

He barely had time to gesture to his own chest that the other man positively squeaked, cheeks flushing a bright, appealing red.

And of course, of course it was the man he'd barreled into earlier - and spent the last half hour or so ogling so shamelessly Arthur was wondering how Gwaine hadn't commented on it yet. His worn t-shirt putting a mouth-watering emphasis on his defined biceps, his jeans slung low on his lips, the man was ridiculously fetching, yet it wasn't on his body that Arthur had fixated his gaze. His wide eyes were locked somewhere on Arthur's face, his jaw was slack, and his full lips were parted on a muted sound, giving him the air of a gobsmacked fish.

"Sorry, really," Arthur added uncertainly when the shocked silence lingered a second too long. "I was just changing up."

He didn't think he was that hideous to look at, but the man's reaction really put a damper on his self-confidence. He quickly put on the t-shirt Morgana had pulled out of his drawer, which was a little bit on the snug side, but would do well enough for the rest of the evening. The red color had faded over the years, what was once his favorite shirt becoming a distant but beloved memory.

Arthur counted himself lucky: it was still better than a beer stained shirt.

When no answer was forthcoming, he shrugged awkwardly, and looked on last time in the mirror before moving toward the door. The other man, however, halted his exit.

"Thank you," he blurted out, gesturing with one hand, "for, you know, replacing the drinks. You didn't have to, really."

His voice was deeper than earlier, Arthur noticed, rich and lilted by a discreet accent, yet the words were barely articulated, as if he was embarrassed - to have found Arthur half naked, or maybe because he'd just realized he'd truly ruined his shirt, Arthur didn't know.

"It was the least I could do," Arthur replied, trying for a smile. "And I apologize for spilling them. I had a bit of a row with my friends, and I wasn't really looking where I was going."

"It's okay," the other man repeated, his smile conjuring dimples on his cheeks that made Arthur's heart miss a beat. "I wasn't really paying attention either. I hope everything's alright with your friends?"

He bit his lips, seemingly out of sorts, and Arthur shrugged, momentarily distracted.

"They're going to pester me for a while. Otherwise, we're fine, I think."

He smiled, pretending to be unconcerned while his whole body was alight with nerves. He was having a conversation with the man he intended to ask out in the - admittedly well cleaned - bathrooms of a bar. What was his life, seriously?

"I'm glad. Well, don't let me keep you," the other man said, flushing as if he'd realized the same thing as Arthur - namely, that bathroom conversations were unnecessarily awkward.

So Arthur nodded, a bit too quickly, and recovered his stained shirt before leaving the bathroom with a parting smile. Leon frowned at him when he came back, looking all flustered from the interaction, but he wisely didn't comment.

"So, Arthur, have you chosen who you're going to ask out yet?" Gwaine asked, a smile that wasn't quite a smirk curling at his lips.

Gwen's expression turned pinched, and she leveled Gwaine with her patented I'm about to do something really bad but you'll love me anyway because I'm a sweet person smile.

"Do tell me, Gwaine," she positively simpered, "you are aware that Morgana is my best friend, correct?"

Arthur took his seat with a faint smile: if Gwaine hadn't figured out, by now, what was going to happen in the next minute, then he wasn't nearly as smart as he liked to pretend.

"Yes, sure. But what's that got to do with anything?" he asked, proving once again that beer didn't agree with his brain.

"So you do know that, if it ever came to a choice between you and me, she would choose me?" Gwen added, eyes widening fractionally even as her mouth shaped into the sweetest smile.

"I guess?" Gwaine said, knitting his eyebrow together as he finally registered the danger he was in, without fully comprehending the extent of it.

"So if I were to, let's say, ask Morgana for a certain picture, you reckon she would give it to me in a heartbeat?"

Gwaine blanched, suddenly very, very afraid.

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed, but his voice was unsteady.

Gwen blinked, a little owlishly, and looked at Gwaine from under her lashes, her expression the embodiment of innocence.

"Wouldn't I?"

Knowing defeat when it knocked him right in the face, Gwaine capitulated.

"I'll go get the next round," he muttered.

And with that he left the table, his swagger uncertain, risking covert glances at Elena and all the while making sure Gwen wasn't looking at him with her ominous smile.

"Thanks, Gwen," Arthur murmured. "I appreciate it."

"Anytime," she said, the unconcerned wave of her hand unable to mask the mischievous curl of her lips.

"Admit it," Percival chimed in, "you've been dying to put him in his place."

Leon snorted, shaking his head and grumbling something that suspiciously sounded like bloody Morgana, which didn't make much sense, though Gwen raised an eyebrow at him and knocked back the rest of her drink. But Arthur didn't have time to wonder about it, as Percy eyed him carefully.

"So," he said, "I know we should drop the subject and all, but can you at least tell us if you're alright?"

Arthur barely contained his flinch, and Percival added, his voice that much more subdued:

"I mean, I can't remember seeing you that angry. You're not...ill or anything, are you?"

Arthur felt a mix of guilt, shame and gratefulness curl in his belly, stunned that Percival would worry about him like this, even after what Arthur had thrown at his face. He was going to have to apologize, and preferably grovel for a while, bearing several bags of peanuts and a basin or two of Gwaine's mother's candies, which were Percival's favorites.

"I'm fine," he managed to croak out through the tightening of his throat. "I promise."

Percival assessed him a second more and nodded, satisfied.

Gwaine came back a minute later, carrying their drinks on a tray. He carefully set them in front of his friends, keeping Arthur for last, and presented him with the most horrendous, alcohol packed cocktail, the bright color sickening all in itself.

"Here you go, princess," he said, all teeth and smile. "I thought you could use the liquid courage. Your lovely brunette is waiting."

Arthur tasted the concoction with a feigned grimace, Gwaine delighted at his apparent discomfort yet unaware that Arthur didn't mind the drink itself, but was rather wondering how to approach said brunette - or her friend, more like - to ask him out on a date.

He didn't have to wonder long, though, as the other man suddenly stood, bracing himself under the encouragements of his friends, and walked toward his table. He lightly knocked on the wood to gather their attention, though Arthur's and Leon's both were already on him, and all their eyes turned to the newcomer, who was looking at them rather sheepishly.

Arthur promptly put his drink back on the table, careful not to spill anything, and leaned back in his chair, curiosity masking the wild pounding of his heart.

"Erm, hey," the man said, his accent one again shining through. "Sorry to bother you guys - lady," he added, looking at Gwen, "my name's Merlin, and I...I was just wondering if you could do me a favor?"

They exchanged puzzled looks around the table, but Gwaine eyed him consideringly and took a swing of his beer before acknowledging him.

"Fire away, mate."

The other man - Merlin - fiddled with the leather band looping around his wrist, biting his lip, before nodding on an exhale.

"Right," he muttered, cheeks flushing. "You see, my friends out there," he pointed to his table, and his three friends waved at them in a surprisingly in sync gesture, "dared me to get the best looking man in the bar to kiss me."

"Oh, yes, definitely," Gwaine replied, tossing his hair over his shoulder with a lecherous wink.

Though he knew it was only in jest, Arthur couldn't help but tense on his chair. Merlin blushed but shook his head slightly, looking nervous, and Arthur dared to hope as his eyes slid over Percival and landed on him.

"Uh."

Leon let out a short, relieved laugh.

"Sorry Gwaine, I don't think you're the one for him," he sniggered.

Percival snorted as Gwaine's smile morphed into a pout, but anyone who knew Gwaine could tell he wasn't that disappointed - slightly miffed to have his good looks discarded so easily, maybe, but he'd get over it without much whining.

"They promised me fifty bucks," Merlin said, slightly flustered. "I'll give you half of it if you accept."

Gwaine chuckled good-naturedly, and Percival sadly shook his head as he munched on the peanuts Gwaine had had the good grace to bring to their table.

"Sorry mate," he said, "but Arthur isn't..."

Later, Arthur wouldn't know if he should praise his genius or bemoan his stupidity. But right then, as the tentative smile slid off Merlin's face, he did the only thing he could think of.

"I tell you what," he interrupted, eyeing the man with a smile. "You give me your number and I kiss you for free."

Percival's eyes bulged and Gwaine snorted so loudly he sprayed the table with beer. Even Gwen, usually so composed, couldn't contain her shock. Only Leon laughed, smile growing at Gwaine's gobsmacked expression.

"About fucking time," he said, clapping Arthur on the shoulder.

Gwaine rounded on him, the faintest frown marring his brow showing that he didn't quite understand what was happening yet.

"About fucking time what? Leon?" he asked, an uncommon urgency in his voice.

"You're going to lose the bet, my friend," Leon replied, more than happy to rub it in Gwaine's face. "Now shut up and watch."

Smiling at his friend's antics and desperate to wipe the uncertainty off the other man's face, Arthur stood up and walked to Merlin, fighting off a shiver as Merlin cupped his cheeks between rough palms.

The kiss was incredibly showy, a mess of lips and teeth and tongues, and Gwaine wolf whistled, never one to care for propriety. Merlin tasted good, like rum and sugar, and Arthur could very well see himself addicted to the taste. Merlin's smile was utterly brilliant as they parted for breath, mirroring his own, and Arthur's heart gave an overly large beat.

"Fifty bucks," he murmured against Merlin's lips. "You're welcome."

Merlin chuckled, mischief bright in his eyes, and he pressed a last butterfly kiss on Arthur's lips, leaving them tingling as he turned toward Gwen.

"Oh, by the way, can I have your number?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Gwen startled at the offer, and her eyes widened fractionally as she threw a quick glance at Arthur.

"Why?" she wondered, looking a bit wary, as she had no doubt figured out what was happening in Arthur's head by now.

Arthur, faintly hurt, didn't say a thing, but Merlin's confusion relaxed him.

"What..."

His gaze flickered toward Arthur and his eyes widened.

"Oh no, sorry, it's not for me! You see, my friend there - the one with the white shirt - has been looking at you for the better part of the hour, and I've seen you look back too, but he's a bit of a gentleman - he's shy, really - and since he won me something tonight," he winked at Arthur, "I thought I'd get him something in return. If you don't mind."

He ended his tirade, breathless, with a glance at Arthur, and smiled a little sheepishly.

"I don't mind," Gwen was quick to reply, her cheeks stained a lovely pink under her dark brown skin.

She rummaged in her purse and took out a notebook, from which she tore a page to scribble her number on. She handed it to Merlin, a soft smile on her lips, and Merlin winked at her.

"Great," he grinned. "I'll just take a second."

He turned back to Arthur, and placed a chaste peck on his cheek before getting back to his table, handing the piece of paper to his model of a friend, chuckling as the brunette gave him a thumbs up, and blushing furiously as his third friend handed him something, patting his shoulder condescendingly.

It was on uncertain feet that he was back, smiling shyly at Arthur.

"Should we get out of here?"

The offer was innocent, and Merlin's tone a little bit subdued. Arthur realized that he had given no sign that he was interested in Merlin beside the kiss they had shared, if one wanted to discard his attempt at getting the man's number, which could easily pass as a comment made in jest.

"Gladly," he promptly replied, skin warming up all over. "Sorry, guys," he added, "I have to cut the evening short. But please, do enjoy yourselves without me."

"Arthur, wait!" Leon exclaimed. "Just so we're clear, you're going on a date, right?"

Arthur chanced a glance at Merlin, who nodded and took hold of Arthur's hand.

"I believe we are, yes," he replied, and didn't miss the slight curl of Leon's lips.

Leon rapped his knuckles on the table, smile triumphant, and leaned forward.

"Now, Gwaine," he said, very softly, "time to pay up."

Arthur guffawed, prompting a scandalized sputter from Gwaine.

"That's cheating!" he bellowed. "You're breaching the terms of the contract!"

"I was supposed to find myself a date," Arthur corrected smugly, "and that's exactly what I did."

Gwaine's eyes wavered toward Merlin, who was watching the exchange with a furrowed brow.

"But..."

His eyes widened in sudden realization - and Arthur could practically see the cogs turning in his brain - but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Percival cuffing him around the head.

"Remember that I'm your witness," he warned. "No funny business. Your turn."

Feeling a sudden pity at his dismayed look, Arthur fished Elena's post-it from his wallet and handed it to Gwaine.

"Here. Ellie wanted me to give you this."

His parting gift delivered, he tugged Merlin toward the exit, apprehension and excitement both warring in his heart. They had barely made a few steps outside that Gwaine came barreling behind them, nearly falling over in his haste.

"Arthur, damn it!" he panted, breathless. "You don't get to do those things and just leave, you bloody bastard."

Merlin eyed him warily, and Arthur couldn't really fault him for it, given the earlier exchange, but Gwaine walked right into Arthur, eyes earnest, and engulfed him into a hug worthy of Percival's.

"You bloody bastard," he repeated, muttering in his ear. "Here. It's my last one, so you better use it."

He slid a foiled packet into Arthur's pocket, and squeezed once before letting him go.

"And you," he added, pointing at Merlin, "you better not break his heart, or I'm coming for your head."

And with that he swiftly made his way back to the bar, leaving Arthur to duck his head in embarrassment.

"Sorry about him," he said, gesturing helplessly. "He can get a bit much."

As proof, he showed the condom Gwaine had given him, and Merlin snorted disbelievingly.

"One day, I'll introduce you to Will," he promised, solemn. "Then you'll understand what I'm used to."

He then fished a matching condom from his pocket, and chuckled at Arthur's bewildered expression, squeezing Arthur's hand in reassurance.

"Looking forward to it," Arthur replied, somewhat dubiously.

Merlin grinned at him, and he really did have a lovely smile, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. Arthur's traitorous heart did a somersault in his chest and his cheeks colored.

"So, what now?" Merlin inquired, his smile softening at Arthur's obvious blush.

"There's this Thaï place not too far from here," Arthur offered. "It's nothing fancy, but the owner likes me for some reason, and her cooking is delicious."

"That's fine by me," Merlin replied. "Just..."

"Yes?"

Merlin's smile dimmed a bit, and he gestured between them.

"Is this going to be a one-time thing?" he asked softly. "Because if it is..."

"I'm not looking for a hook up," Arthur replied carefully. "I mean, I'd like to get to know you. You know, properly."

That seemed to be the right thing to say, as Merlin's cheeks dimpled in a fond smile.

"Come on, then," he murmured, hesitating a second before placing a soft kiss under Arthur's jaw, one that Arthur already knew would be his undoing. "Let's make your bet worth it."

Arthur chuckled, delighted that Merlin seemed to have grasped that much. He didn't seem offended that Arthur had a bet over him, but again, Merlin had made one of his own, and both had been bullied by their friends to approach the other.

It was hardly a solid foundation for a relationship, Arthur idly thought, and yet he wasn't worried. After all, as they walked to the restaurant, Merlin didn't once let go of his hand.