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The very first time Arthur asks to sleep with him is six months later after Oz rescues him from the cold white snow of the Northern territory.
It's not even a cold night, and there is no snowstorm raging outside the castle, but the little boy knocks on the door and peeks in.
Shyly, as if unsure if he should be doing this, he asks, "May I sleep here tonight?"
At first, Oz does not get it. He cannot understand this little kid, how he is already so used to everything around him, how he is used to him , when Oz cannot understand the reason for Arthur's smiles every day. He does not get it and simply sends Arthur back to sleep in his own room.
"There is no reason for you to sleep elsewhere…" Oz answers, putting his book down. "Go back."
But Arthur does not go back. He simply stays by the door, holding onto the doorknob and waiting.
Oz does not understand him. He never needed to sleep with someone when he lived with Snow and White. He never cried for human food, he never followed them around like the little ducks follow their mother in the lake near the castle.
Arthur stares right at Oz, and Oz stares back.
"There is something in my room." Arthur then speaks. "In the corner."
Oz knows that it's practically impossible for someone else to be in his home. He tells Arthur that, but Arthur still doesn't head back to his room.
"Oz-sama, can you go check with me?"
And somehow this little boy convinces Oz to get up from bed and walk to his room. Arthur guides him by the hand, taking the lead, and towards his room.
"...I will head in first." Arthur declares, still holding Oz's hand.
They venture inside the room, only lit by the moonlight. Oz does not see anything out of place. But Arthur walks directly to the closet, silently, steadily, uneasiness in his face, but never once stopping. Oz allows himself to be pulled by the boy as he inches close, close, and closer to the closet door.
Oz watches in silence, observing. He watches the small boy, the wizard he picked up on a whim, head towards the source of what scared him, and then.......
Nothing.
The closet door opens, and the only thing that comes out is one of the sweaters Oz gave him.
...
Later that night, Arthur giggles to himself as he scoots down the warm covers of Oz's bed. Oz isn't sure why he agreed to this child's petition even after the whole sweater ordeal is over. Sharing a bed with Arthur is different from when Snow and White made him sleep in the same bed as Figaro "to bond as brothers".
This feeling...Oz is not sure what to make out of it. As Arthur leans in close to get a better look of the book he has in hands, Oz closes his eyes and listens to Arthur ask questions.
One time per year, Oz-sama leaves for the night. Usually, Snow-sama and White-sama would come over and "watch over him" (which was actually just playing with him all night), but on these nights they have to go with Oz-sama too.
That night, they fight the Great Calamity. The moon in the sky becomes their enemy; beautiful and dangerous. Arthur cannot understand how something so close and ever so present in their life can cause havoc. Oz-sama couldn't answer him either.
Before leaving, Oz looks at the calamity and frowns, deep and unwelcoming. Arthur wishes he could go with him, but Oz has made it clear -explicitly so- that he cannot go.
However, recently something has changed. Arthur cannot put it into words, but there's something different in Oz-sama when the night to fight the Great Calamity draws in. Maybe he's just making up things and nothing's really changed, but... maybe it's just his mind but Arthur feels as if Oz returns his hug with more force before leaving. 'Maybe he fears something,' Arthur thinks before shaking that thought away. Oz-sama fearing something? Impossible.
On those nights Figaro-sama comes to watch over him. Figaro lets him stay up until later than usual, normally reading books and chatting about Oz-sama.
"Are you scared of the Great Calamity, Arthur?" Figaro asks as they drink warm milk that night.
His answer is immediate: "No. Oz-sama is here."
Figaro laughs and ruffles his hair. As a special treat for that night, he lets Oz sleep in Oz's bed. (Arthur would have done that even if Figaro hadn't told him).
In the morning, Oz is asleep by his side, and there's an extra blanket on top of Arthur.
A blizzard rages outside. Again.
Oz knows very well this is his doing. This is the result of his grieving, as Snow and White called it.
"You have to stop, Oz-chan." They say.
Oz knows that.
"He is no longer here."
Oz knows that.
He knows that, and yet the pain in his chest, the uncomfortable sensation that has no name in his throat is there with him. He tells himself, 'There is no point in this. He is better in Central. Where he belongs. Away from me.'.
Silence.
Arthur is no longer there. There is no more laughter. No more curiosity. The castle has become again what was once in the past: cold even when there is fire in the fireplace burns bright.
Arthur is in Central, away from him and it's for a greater good. Away from him he will not become what Oz has.
The bed is cold.
Rutile is the one who comes up with the suggestion. A bonding activity to relax and enjoy each other's company: a sleepover in the living room. Mithra isn't too excited by that idea.
In the end, everyone comes, although the night is far from peaceful. Chloe casts his spell and shows everyone the nightclothes he prepared for the occasion. The sage is there too, and they hold Snow and White's portrait close as Rutile tells a story of one time he went to explore the southern mountains by himself on his broom.
Rustica waves a finger and makes warm tea appear on everyone's teacup as Shino tells everyone his own version of an anecdote Heath seems to find quite embarrassing.
Mitile and Riquet fall asleep first, leaning on one another. Leno pulls the blankets on them as one of his sheep pulls their pillows towards them. Owen basically only comes to steal the cookies Nero prepared and when Bradley calls him out, he kindly makes him sneeze away.
Cain and Riquet somehow managed to make Oz come down too. (Arthur would have gone in their place, he would have loved to personally invite Oz-sama but he was busy preparing cookies...to give to Oz-sama). Oz sits besides the Sage on the same couch as Arthur.
Anyone who didn't know better would think he wouldn't be paying attention to the stories and the chatting, but Arthur knows best. Oz-sama would always sit like that when listening, like when Arthur would talk about the book he had read that day. He scoots just a tiny bit closer to Oz's side.
Snow-sama and White-sama laugh to each other and almost a moment later ask the Sage to take them to the kitchen to get churros.
And just like that, Arthur and Oz are the only ones on that couch.
Figaro-sama is talking now, and it's a story Arthur knows by heart (although this time he's telling it as if someone else had done the feats).
"Oz-sama," Arthur holds out the star-shaped cookies he made for the night. For him. "I made some. Would you like to try them?"
Silently, Oz picks up a cookie and takes a bite. "... It's very sweet." Oz bites into it and stares at Arthur and then at the cookie.
Arthur laughs, somewhat shy and happy. "Yes, I tried to recreate that time I poured half a bag more of sugar into the cookies."
Oz chuckles. "Yes, I remember that one time." He takes another bite.
Arthur's heart does a little jump inside his chest. He is happy to be the one to see Oz's rare and calm smiles; as if it were a treasure nobody but him could find. And he wishes it could always be like that.
In the end, Oz heads back to his room, but not until it's late and mostly everyone is asleep. In the night with no one watching, he gently places his hand on Arthur's head and strokes his hair delicately before getting up from the couch.
"Our Oz-chan is such a good boy, Snow." White teases.
"He should be more honest with his feelings." Snow adds.
Oz refuses to hear Snow and White's teasing as he takes their portrait up to their room.
It's not even a cold night, and there is no snowstorm raging outside the castle. Oz sits in bed, reading a book. The night is calm and there is a single gentle knock on his door.
Arthur opens the door and smiles, "I thought you might still be up, Oz-sama." He walks inside with a certain eagerness in him. Of course, this might not be the first time he heads towards Oz's bed to sleep with him, but that fluttering sensation in his heart that makes him giddy has never once faded away. "May I read here with you?"
"...As you wish." Oz answers. Arthur gets inside the bed, close to him, and opens his own book. Content, Oz resumes his own reading in comfortable silence.
It's been only a couple years (probably...) since Arthur came back.
"My home is beside Oz-sama." He had declared the day he had returned.
He had stripped himself away from the king title, leaving behind his life in Central. King Arthur was no more.
Everything.
Arthur had always been like a storm, bringing changes to those around him -to Oz- and yet always bringing a sense of renewal like the spring.
The first fifteen years after that had been a struggle, Oz will admit that much to himself. The idea that Arthur could throw everything away for him felt like a crime, and yet, Arthur always reassured him that it was his choice and that he had no regrets. “The place where I belong is beside you, Oz-sama. And the mana stone I turn into when I die will be yours too.”
Their ever-changing relationship; from Evil Lord and Lost Child to a familiar relationship, to Sage's Wizards and Central Prince to mentor and disciple, and now ....
Arthur lets his head rest on Oz's shoulder.
"...Are you tired?" He asks.
Arthur shakes his head. "Not really..." He says with a small smile on his face. "Are you, Oz-sama?"
"Not particularly..." Despite that, both close their books for the night and lay down on bed. The bed. Their bed.
Arthur curls up next to him and takes his hand under the bed covers.
"..."
They look at each other. Oz knows by now what Arthur wants, and even if these feelings are still new even after sixty years, he knows that he wants the same.
Arthur likes it when he squeezes his hand, and so he does just as he presses a gentle kiss on his forehead. "...Good night." The vague memory of how Arthur’s face had lit up when they had first held hands crosses in his mind for a second.
Arthur replies with a kiss on the lips. "...Good night, Oz-sama."
The night is calm.