Chapter Text
Halfway down the block they were suddenly swamped by a wave of people in fine clothes, spilling out from a church into the clear November sunlight. Arthur reached for Merlin's hand to guide them through the throng.
Helping him through crowds was one of the first things Arthur had done that had made Merlin think there was something more to him than an obnoxious prat, a prank played by the university roommate gods, punishment for the worst of Merlin's sins. Up until then their relationship had involved lots of bickering and sniping and a fair amount of ignoring each other, and Merlin had been trying his damnedest not to show any of the little tells that made him... well, "unique" was the term his mother used. The ones his classmates tended to use were less kind.
But crowds were difficult -- seething, disorienting masses of people, chaotic human particles bouncing along paths outside, or worse, trapped between the walls of a corridor. Merlin tried to stay near a wall and planned his routes between classes carefully to minimize his exposure.
So the first time Arthur casually took his arm and guided him through a crowded hallway while talking loudly about why Merlin was unpatriotic for not caring about football... that had been a turning point. Not that either of them had acknowledged it.
"All right?" Arthur asked over his shoulder as they emerged from the press of tailored jackets.
"Yeah," said Merlin. That warm glow that always accompanied Arthur's kind gestures had filled his chest.
"I'm glad Lance and Gwen are having their wedding in the country." Arthur slowed his steps back to a stroll, but didn't release Merlin's hand. "The parking will be easier, for one thing."
"Wedding?" Merlin blinked and glanced back. "Was that...?"
"Yes, Merlin, that was a wedding. Didn't you see the bride come out?"
"Er..."
Arthur grinned at him. "Never mind. She didn't hold a candle to Gwen anyway." He was still holding Merlin's hand.
And this was all right, the hand-holding. Four days ago Merlin had been having a rough night after a rough few months, and had finally admitted to Arthur what he'd come, grudgingly, to accept about himself -- that he was fairly far along the asexual spectrum. Which meant, he'd told his best friend, staring fixedly at the table with his eyes burning, that he'd probably never find someone who could overlook that enough to want to be with him.
Arthur had told him that he was an idiot, and there were tons of people who didn't care much about sex and would be happy in a relationship without it, and if he'd known that was why Merlin never flirted with him he'd have asked him out years ago.
We're just trying it out, Merlin told himself as they walked down the street hand in hand. That had been the agreement, because he was too afraid of being a disappointment to Arthur too, and losing not just another partner, but his best friend in the world.
He glanced over and caught the edge of a careful, hopeful smile from Arthur.
Merlin smiled shyly back and squeezed Arthur's hand.