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Arthur tries to keep hidden the fact that he's staring at Merlin, eyes following the swiping motions of his hand polishing a sword.
He's supposed to be reading over crop reports, but those aren't nearly as interesting as the look of concentration on Merlin's face.
Merlin must be able to sense Arthur's eyes on him, as he often looks up, but Arthur usually manages to dart his eyes back to the parchment so their gazes don't lock, as they so often do.
"Is something wrong, Arthur? I've polished this thing way more than you have, so please enlighten me if I've been doing it wrong, since you must know more about it." Merlin says when he catches him.
"No, nothing's wrong." Arthur says quietly, for once not taking the easy out with banter.
"Then why do you keep looking at me?"
"I'm not. You're looking at me."
"Because I can tell you're looking at me! Arthur, what is it?"
"Nothing, Merlin. These reports are just boring."
"And me polishing a sword is so much more interesting?"
"Can be."
"So what, you want me to entertain you? I'm not a jester, you know."
"You could be."
"Ha ha."
Arthur can't help but smile at Merlin's sarcasm, then wider as Merlin smiles back.
Now that they've made eye contact, everything else falls away in importance, as if the only thing left to do is stare at each other.
The fact that they can read every other emotion that passes between them doesn't matter now that neither can see the love written on their faces, too scared to see that what they desperately wish for is right there.
Eventually their gazes fall, and the staring ends, though the feelings that came from it refuse to fade.
One day, they'll figure it out.
Until then, it's staring for so long they forget about the rest of the world, daring hand brushes, and secret smiles.
But they'll get there eventually.