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Arthur sighed and threw his crystal whiskey glass into the recycling as he stared up at his most prized possession, a painting he had commissioned from Elizabeth Peyton depicting his beloved Merlin entirely nude. It had been hard to come up with a cover story for this one…obviously, Merlin could not know how Arthur felt, because then his father would automatically find out and kill him. No, Arthur had had to lie, saying he wanted an expensive painting of the ugliest man he knew as an ironic art joke. Merlin, simple stupid Merlin, had believed the lie so easily…
Oh, Merlin. How could a man like Merlin, hard-working, salt-of-the-earth, beautiful Merlin, ever love Arthur, who was rich and handsome and stylish…it simply could not be.