Archive of Our Own

The road pointed straight ahead. The welcoming sign was small and at an angle. The wonky slope of it made Arthur smile. After all, he was the one who had reversed into it.

Arthur shook his head at the memory, trying to clear it and gripped the steering wheel.

He had no idea what lay ahead. He hadn't been home in three years.

The sparkling lights of performative neighbor's decorations glittered before him, competitive in their dazzling displays. This neighborhood always did love to show off come December.

He passed Merlin's house. The lights were off and there were no Christmas decorations adorning the exterior, only the light dusting of snow on the roof and the ground to brighten it.

He frowned but continued on until the turning for his own house, only a short distance up. He supposed he should really refer to his childhood home as his father's house now.

When his first big paycheck arrived, Arthur had offered to buy Uther an upgraded house - and had made many more offers since - but Uther could never part with the house where his love had last been alive.

It was a very romantic notion. Arthur wondered if such things could be inherited. His eyes skittered to the end of the street where a small suburban playground sat, half hidden behind the bushes.

It seemed so much smaller now. The slide and the sandpit. The merry go round- always a mistake after the alcohol he and Merlin downed in their early teens. He'd puked in that playground more times than a young man should ever admit.

He thought of the welcome sign he'd passed earlier, pale hands and whispered words flashed through his mind. A curl of dark hair over a bright eye.

Arthur cut the engine and yanked the car door open.

The front door, bedecked with a charming if obnoxiously large wreath, opened before he had a chance to use the knocker. He must've slammed the car door too loudly.

"Arthur," his father smiled up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. He enveloped him in a brief hug before shuffling him in from the cold.

Picture frames lined the fireplace and a stocking hung from the end of it. The tree was large as life and just as decorated. A small pile of presents lay beneath it and fairy lights were half strung around the room.

The kitchen was clean; spectacular glinting surfaces that showed Arthur's own reflection as he followed his father to the streamlined kitchen.

A steaming cup of tea, too hot to drink, was placed before him as he sat at the dining table.

"How have you been? How was the journey?" Uther asked, stirring a teaspoon into his own mug.

"Okay. Thought provoking." Arthur's answers were short from tiredness.

"Thought provoking?" Uther questioned, hoping to get more than a slight grumble out of his son.

No such luck.

Arthur hummed and took a breath of tea.

Tea soaked biscuits and bitten off smiles, late nights staying up talking.

They tended to all drink coffee over in L.A. Arthur quickly placed the mug back on the counter.

"I left your present and my bags in the boot. I'll just grab them before I forget."

Arthur let the cold seep through his jacket and start to numb his fingers. He was tempted to stand out there forever, or to get back in the car and just drive.

Instead he hoiked his rucksack over his shoulder and grabbed his other things. He shut the boot with an impressive combination of elbows and knees.

He decided to brave it and went straight up to his room. He steeled himself before opening the door, bracing himself for the bombardment of memories he'd get the minute he walked in.

His posters were still up, exactly as he'd left them. His bedding had been neatly folded, the red covers smoothed down. The memorabilia of the past cluttered his room.

The last time he was here-

God. The last time he was here felt like a lifetime ago.

Looked it too, he really should've tidied before he left.

He deftly unpacked the necessities and unravelled his father's wrapped present from where it was buried beneath umpteen rolled up shirts.

He made his way down the stairs and placed it under the tree.

"It's nice to have you home," Uther commented from where he sat on the old leather sofa.

Arthur didn't feel at home. The dread and exhilaration he'd felt turning off the junction had evaporated as soon as he'd driven past Merlin's house.

He just felt like fleeing, leaving as quickly as possible. He felt jittery and yet there was still that glimmer beneath the anxiety. A glimmer of hope and desire.

"We're out of milk by the way. Is it okay if you get some? My leg has been acting up again due to the cold." There was a peculiar glint in Uther's eyes, but perhaps it was just the fire reflecting off his reading glasses.

"Of course." Arthur rose, glad really to be of use for once.

He drove down to the local shop, it wasn't very far.

He'd just picked up a pint of milk and was browsing the bakery aisle, carefully ignoring the magazines, when he saw a familiar face.

It was a lightning strike, a punch to the chest.

His heart clenched. It was like breathing in a lungful of air atop a high mountain or discovering music for the first time.

A symphony played in his head and a million memories flashed before him. The man who haunted his dreams.

"Merlin," he breathed.

The man in question turned quickly to face him, with that same old quizzical expression.

Merlin froze. Blinked.

"Arthur?"

Arthur's heart was going a mile a minute, jack rabbiting, but it seemed his brain was a slug in a desert. His throat felt dry and his voice shaky.

"Yes. I'm-" He paused, unable to think. His eyes were too busy engulfing Merlin, his brain too focused on absorbing the image. He was sure his mouth was hanging open. "I'm here for the holidays. Haven't been back in-"

"Three years," Merlin replied automatically.

Arthur nodded.

"Well. It's good to see you," Merlin said, as way of goodbye.

"Pub," Arthur said suddenly.

Merlin turned back towards him.

"Uh," Arthur wanted to strangle himself. "Do you want to go to the pub? It'd be nice to catch up properly."

Merlin hesitated. "I- Yeah. Okay."

"Great."

Merlin remained where he was, shifted a little.

"Now?" Arthur asked.

"Uh, sure." Merlin seemed puzzled and uncertain. Arthur couldn't blame him.

Arthur nearly walked out of the shop with the unpaid milk still in his hand. He hastily put it down as they left and texted his father he'd be back later.

The pub was a short walk away, a quick turn and a winding path between the estate.

They made brisk work of it, it was an old haunt of theirs. Arthur realised picking somewhere local with so many memories attached was one of his more stupid ideas. It only occured to him after they arrived.

The wave of nostalgia practically crushed him.

They both beelined for the bar.

Even worse, the bar staff recognized Arthur. They sent up a cheer, rallying other customers attention.

"Arthur Pendragon, can you believe. Never thought I'd see you in here again now that you're all rich and famous and that. Our very own celebrity come home. Here! Give us an autograph."

A slight clamor set up and Sophie Sidhes name bounced around the room which made Arthur want to shrink and die on the spot.

The engagement had been short lived, Arthur wondered what sort of spell he must've been under to ever ask during their whirlwind romance.

This was old news now, the break up eclipsed in the gossip rags by Prince Harry's naked Vegas bender among other tawdry tidbits.

Arthur grimaced through a smile nonetheless and shouldered off the comments. Merlin's lips were pale and pressed together.

Arthur realised he'd need a strong drink to get through the evening.

They snuck to a quiet corner, half hidden behind the jukebox trying to avoid attention.

They made stiff, boring small talk until about three drinks in.The awkwardness hadn't faded but it was lulled by the warm buzz of alcohol that had a tendency to make both of them giggly and amorous.

"You? A secondary school teacher? What happened to Rapscallion?" Arthur exclaimed teasingly.

"Oh god, I can't believe you remember that." Merlin's hands covered his face as he laughed.

They had slowly closed the gap between them, inevitably leaning forward into each other's space like the tower of Pisa. Gravity pulling him in, as it always had around Merlin.

"How could I forget?" Arthur said pulling a face, wide eyeing Merlin to convey the jest as he did some crap fake air guitar.

Merlin laughed and shoved at Arthur's arm.

"Oh shut up, you loved my band. We were actually not terrible. We got invited to play places," Merlin said defensively.

Arthur's mouth quirked. "I don't know if the shopping center and your uncle's pub count, Merlin."

"Just cause you're some big shot, we can't all be splayed over every banner on the M3..." Merlin's tone sharpened and his grin petered out at the same time his sentence did.

The sudden pocket of warmth they'd created dropped, a cool plunge. Arthur took an uncomfortable, large swallow of his drink.

"Freya is a teacher at the school too, you know." Arthur recalled her, she was a slight dark haired girl who had been one of the four band members.

"She teaches biology. She ended up marrying Will, he always was mad about her." Merlin's smile was sad.

Arthur had heard about Will's death, it happened about a year ago. A freak accident at work. Arthur had just finished filming for An Italian Rome-ance when he heard the news.

He'd nearly called Merlin that night, had nearly called him a hundred times since. Merlin's number had remained on Arthur's speed dial until morning dawned. He just couldn't bring himself to press the call button.

"My condolences."

"Why? You two never got on." Merlin looked away, blinking a bit.

Arthur frowned and wanted to reach a hand out. Instead he tightened his fingers around his glass.

Merlin switched topics. "You're right anyway, Rapscallion never would of made it big. Our music was just too good for the masses."

Arthur smiled. "I still have a disc of your songs somewhere."

Merlin's eyes lit with something Arthur would've called hope, if he'd had less to drink.

"Really?" He seemed almost touched.

Arthur would never tell him that he'd played that disc so many times, he was surprised he hadn't worn a hole through it.

"I always liked track 5 the best." He could feel Merlin's eyes boring into the side of his head.

"I think that was my favourite too." A beat passed between them, tangible. Merlin shifted away. "It must be nice to see your dad after such a long stretch away. I'm sure he missed you."

Arthur doesn't look up from his empty glass. He tried to stave off a stab of guilt.

"Yeah, yeah it's nice."

He'd left so many people behind, he was surprised he had anyone left to return to.

Laughing, shoulders brushing. They would half collapse onto one another in the car, windows down and music loud as Will sighed and muttered about having to drive around these two "drunk morons" in his "beautiful baby" (aka his piece of crap car).

He never hung out with Will much - that was Merlin's domain - but Will would do them the occasional favour, often muttering Welsh curses under his breath and complaining that they were such light weights that a couple of cans could tank them like this.

Arthur remembered trying alcohol for the first time, having snuck it from Uther's liquor cabinet. It had tasted bitter and burned but it had warmed them. Merlin was with him, of course, they were thick as thieves back then. It had flushed their skin and made them giggly as they sank lower to the floor, arms crossing one another.

Gwen had been genuinely concerned when they'd shown up a pale green shade the next day, half clinging onto each other to stay upright between classes, heads thumping through Mrs Tremaine's French lesson.

He remembered Leon patting him on the back and telling him to sit out rugby practice, so he slumped on the field with Merlin instead. Tired and peaked but smiling, laying in the grass, fingers tucked into each other's socks in order to ping them.

Arthur had arrived back home, wobbly kneed and drunk on more than just the buzz of the beer. His car was still in the shop car park.

He'd been grinning like a maniac the whole walk back, huffing happily as he approached the bottom of the stairs.

Merlin had agreed to see him again tomorrow, to catch up as old friends. They hadn't spoken in over a year and now he was seeing him again. Tomorrow!

He felt electric, he felt incandescent, he felt-

He felt like he was falling down the stairs.

A resounding thump echoed as the world gave out beneath him. Swept off his feet in more ways than one.

The landing light came on.

"Arthur, are you alright?"

A sleepy silly expression struck him as he stretched out contented on the floor, forehead rolling against the wooden floorboards and catching on the rug.

He smiled.

"Best I've been in years."

Uther had the good grace to not say anything come morning and had in fact quite purposefully skirted around the ginormous mess that was now at the bottom of the stairs.

Arthur had lain on the floor until the crick in his neck woke him in the early hours, forcing him to retreat to his real bed. If one could call the single mattress with Man United covers on it a real bed. He rarely missed L.A but what he wouldn't give to sink into his king sized bed with it super soft duvet and fluffy pillows right now.

Uther gave a slightly snarky "have fun?" when Arthur finally made it back downstairs but that was the only witty rejoinder he received.

And thank goodness as his head was pounding in a way it hadn't in a very long time.

"Hangover smoothie is on the counter." Uther gave a lacksidasical gesture, nose buried in his crossword puzzle.

Arthur sipped the green liquid slowly and let himself drift.

It was the lead up to the Christmas break and finals had been slamming them both hard. It was the first real break they'd had, aside from reading week, since starting university.

Arthur had decided to do an impromptu visit to Merlin's campus.

He missed Merlin like a limb, they'd spent the whole summer joint at the hip and had spent their A levels sleeping over each other's houses and studying all the time. Merlin had always been the brains and the talent of the twosome but Arthur's ambition to achieve surprised everyone around them. Arthur had gained Head Prefect and Rugby Captain amongst other accolades but he always pushed for more. He distinctly remembers many occasions when Gwaine kept telling Arthur to "chill out".

Clearly, Arthur still hasn't learned to take that advice.

Arthur had been run ragged for the last several months with theatre projects, student productions, short film submissions and auditions - as well as the usual essays and coursework for his Politics courses. His previously untapped passion for theatre had imploded, taking up all his time. Arthur felt he hadn't had a chance to breathe, let alone talk to anyone or socialise. He certainly hadn't seen or called any of his friends in months.

It had been the easiest decision in the world to get in his car and drive 65 miles to Newbury.

Merlin had looked awful when he answered the door, deep purple rings under his squinty eyes. He didn't even seem to register it was Arthur at first. He'd only recently recovered from a terrible bout of flu that had swept across his whole accomodation block just in time for the assessments.

"God Merlin, you look awful."

They ordered in pizza and put a film on, opting to stay in Merlin's room rather than venture into the shared student kitchen that always had a slightly strange smell and sticky sofas.

They'd been curled up together on Merlin's narrow single bed, dozing on and off and still fully clothed and tired from having talked for so long after the film that that they literally fell asleep on each other.

They'd been like this during A levels but it felt different in the privacy of the dorms. No parents lurking. It was thrilling.

Merlin was cradled in his arms, his dark mop of hair stuck up every which way. He finally had a bit of colour back. Arthur had teasingly blown cold air onto him but Merlin was dead to the world. Arthur's arm instinctively tightened around him, the burning temptation to brush his nose against Merlin's throat was about to win when he got the call.

Arthur's shirt definitely had a drool stain on it and his jeans were a little stiff as he stretched his legs out behind Merlin to reach for his phone.Thankfully, even Arthur's irritating crazy frog ring tone didn't stir him.

He cut it off before it could wake Merlin.

It rang again. He sighed, flipped it open to answer.

He whispered, "Hello?"

"Good morning. Is this Arthur Pendragon?"

"Yeah?"

"Well congrats Arthur, you got it. You got the role! We'll be flying you out on the 3rd of January. We'll be seeing you soon, have a great holiday!"

Arthur rolled his neck, it still ached a bit from the weird angle he'd slept on the floor.

He wondered if Merlin would bail last minute, chicken out of their squiffy plans to meet again.

Arthur was running a hand through his hair for the fiftieth time and questioning whether to change shoes or to wear a different jumper when his ears pricked up.

The car pulled up slow but the high noise of the breaks gave him away. Arthur rushed for the door latch, fumbling it with one hand and the other clutched one of his most prized possession.

Merlin was here. Of course he was. Merlin had never failed on his word.

Arthur bounded down the porch stairs, holding something behind his back like a mischievous kid.

Merlin peaked his head out the car window, eyebrows raised. He was bundled up warm in a long multicolored scarf and some matching fingerless gloves.

"You'll never guess what I found," Arthur said, holding up the disc before Merlin could answer.

Found being a lose term, Arthur knew exactly where it was.

"Oh my god," Merlin laughed, reaching for the old CD. "Part of me thought you were joking despite what you said."

"You know, I never kid about brilliant music."

Merlin shook his head, smiling. "Get in."

They drove around for a bit chatting, going in circles around town seeing as most local places were shut for the festive season. They parked once the rain started to hail down so hard that the road was no longer visible.

It seemed it would be a while before it cleared.

Arthur actually made the stupid suggestion of listening to the demo whilst they waited.

Track 5 - Golden boy

That soft familiar voice lulled over him as it bubbled out of the speakers.

Will was on bass and Freya on guitar. Elyan was playing the drums. The occasional interlude of mixed vocals blended together before it smoothed back into Merlin's voice singing out the notes.

Arthur took a deep breath as the song came to a close. He turned it off before the next track began.

He hummed, trying to clear his throat and the tension that had built in the small space as the CD had played. "Those were the good days."

Silence enveloped the car. The rain thundered on outside.

"Then you left," Merlin said softly, hurt with remembered sadness rather than accusing.

Somehow that was worse.

Arthur didn't know what to say. He felt stung, although he was sure that wasn't Merlin's intentions. They let the sound of the cars driving through puddles on the wet roads fill the silence for a bit before Merlin's seemed unable to bare it any longer.

He turned the CD back on, let the brash rock n roll sound of track 6 take over the conversation.

The sun had gone, the sky a grey tinged bank of endless cloud but the rain had lightened enough for Merlin to drive again.

Secretly Arthur wondered if Merlin would've risked moving off anyway even if it had been a hailstorm in order to get away from Arthur a little quicker.

Things were a little chilly after that. They didn't arrange to see one another again.

The snow had grown thick enough that Arthur had to go out with a snow shovel - unheard of, this amount of snow was far from the norm in England and he'd never had snow in LA.

He worked slowly, brain fuzzy. Busy filtering the images of yesterday: Merlin's down turned lip, his expression, the tune of Golden Boy running round his mind on a loop.

The cold hurt Arthur's nose and throat as he stabbed at the snow hard with the shovel.

He and Uther had agreed to go to the Christmas market.

The town hall held it every year, it was a small event all the proceeds go to charity. The best hot chocolate on the planet, homemade biscuits and sweet treats galore. It was always a great place to buy last minute trinkets and stocking fillers.

The warm atmosphere felt like a hug after the bitter freeze.

Arthur donated a reasonable chunk to the charity the market chose every year, regardless of whether he was physically present. Even in America, he was never quite able to shake his hometowns beloved traditions.

He'd been so caught up in the joy of this childish Christmas joy he'd once so cherished that it hadn't crossed his mind that everyone he knew would be there too.

He recognized several familiar faces from the rugby club, though none he was ever particularly close with. Merlin had given him a brief update on most of their school chums, as Arthur had missed the school reunion. It seemed most of them had stayed in their university towns or otherwise buggered off elsewhere.

He ducked past Freya's stall, a tombola raising money for the schools annual spring ball, unnoticed.

Memories swarmed him and he felt overwhelmed of his own spring ball. A flash of Merlin's green suit and Gwen's lavender dress, them all sneaking out to try cigarettes for the first time before having to hold hands and leg it as Mr Maddok came round the corner.

Arthur blinked back to the present. It wouldn't do him any good to live in the past.

Uther looked happy though, Arthur decided he'd grin and bear it for another half hour before making his excuses.

Running away was not a new concept to Arthur.

He pulled up short at the mulled wine stand.

Merlin's big ears and bright blue eyes vibrant as he poured the warm spiced wine into colourful Christmassy cups for customers, his face rippled like a mirage from the steam.

Arthur's heart was snow powdered, an icy crush palpating as Merlin's cool glance reached past Arthur's seeking eyes, refusing to make contact.

He hadn't forgiven him then and it seemed apparent that he wished Arthur had not come back.

Arthur went around the Christmas market feeling dampened, Uther noticed and tried desperately to cheer him up. Arthur felt a fool, embarrassed at how obvious he was - his heart written on his sleeve as if he were still the age he was when he left this life behind.

He paused at the bauble stand.

A beautiful wood carved bauble with an oak tree stood out to him.

He remembered one lazy summer when Merlin told him all about Celtic trees and how they matched your birth month and the meanings behind them. He shakes his head at the preciseness of the memory. It seemed his brain was determined to remember everything Merlin had ever said to him.

Arthur smirked. They'd nearly fallen out the tree they'd been climbing when Merlin's was blathering on about it. He'd been super into Druid culture, he'd chosen it as his EPQ topic.

It was technically where they had their first kiss, if it could really be called that. A light brush of lips, gone after a second.

Arthur stared at the bauble.

Merlin's was an oak tree.

Arthur bought it and borrowed an envelope from the cards stand. He wrote Merlin's name hastily on it with a short note, leaving it at the mulled wine stand as he passed it on his way out.

Merlin probably wouldn't even remember, would just think it was a small apology present. Or he wouldn't even open it, refusing to bother with Arthur at all.

Still, Arthur felt a little better about everything.

Tis the season for gift giving after all.

Merlin showed up at his door after the Christmas market had closed up for the night.

Uther opened the door, his eyebrows near shot off his head at the sight of Merlin.

"Merlin!" Uther crowed loudly enough to startle Arthur out of his cozy spot. "I must say I'm surprised to see you. It's been a long time my boy, too long. Come on in, it's freezing out there."

Merlin gave some quiet platitudes and shuffled his feet into the Christmas welcome matt, smushing melting wetness there.

Arthur felt like he'd been caught in flagrante, red blooming all over him like a rash. He was wearing an absolutely hideous Christmas jumper, big mismatched wooly socks and a green elf hat. His cozy Christmas get up, the one he only ever wore when no prizing eyes could see.

He pulled the elf hat off post haste.

He couldn't help the puzzled crease in his brow. Merlin was stood in his hallway.

What on earth was he doing here?

Chin up, he addressed Merlin. "Is everything alright?"

Merlin pulled the wooden bauble out of his pocket. "Um, wanted to say thank you for the gift. I also wanted to check- well, I came to understand what it means."

"What do you mean, 'what it means'?"

"Well- well, what do you mean?"

"What do I mean about what?"

Arthur felt like he was having a stroke.

Uther popped his head in. "Anyone want some tea? Mulled cider? Eggnog? I have this apple-strudel-hot- chocolate and I say, its delectable stuff."

Arthur tried not to give Uther a glare. "No we're just fine, father. Thank you, I think we'll head upstairs."

He felt like a sixteen year old again, trying to sneak upstairs with Merlin.

Uther's beady eyes were twitching between the two of them and the bauble that hung on Merlin's finger.

Merlin cleared his throat and folded his coat over his hands, hiding the bauble from sight. "Yeah, sounds wise- I mean good. Yes, let's go."

Merlin doesn't mince words once they're sequestered safely into his room, nor does he sit down. "Arthur, why did you give me this?"

Merlin seems pent up, he struggles not to pace- an impossible feat in Arthur's room anyway due to the sheer lack of space. The floor is cluttered with junk and the rug is a severe (and well know) tripping hazard. Arthur's chipped front tooth can attest to that.

"Uh, why did I give you the bauble?" He echoes.

Merlin stared at him.

"It's Christmas," Arthur replied.

Merlin gave him a searching reason. "Is that all? You gave me this bauble because it's Christmas? No other reason?"

Did Merlin truly remember too? That day that Merlin had been telling Arthur all about the druids and Celtic trees and so on, the kiss. It was brief light thing, not a true kiss, a half mouth of lips brushing.

Hope lit in his chest and is extinguished just as quickly.

He thinks about the last time he kissed Merlin - really kissed him - and that hope flickers, dies and sinks like coal to the pit of his stomach.

Arthur shrugged, couldn't bare to admit it or look at Merlin's piercing commanding look.

Why risk causing potential upset when they're just beginning to reignite their friendship. He's missed Merlin, so much. Having him back in any capacity is better than not having him at all.

He can't scare him off again.

He firms his stance. He can't risk it.

"Yeah, it's a bauble. People put them on the tree, it's Christmas." He can't help the razor pithiness his voice takes on.

Arthur tries to soften his response. "It's pretty, I just thought it'd look nice as a Christmas decoration."

Merlin looked crestfallen. He looks at the bauble, a finger rubbing over it carefully before pocketing it.

"Right." One hand lingered on the doorknob. "Sorry for intruding, it was a nice gift. I'll see you around Arthur."

Arthur watches as Merlin leaves, hears the front door close with his exit.

The sudden feeling he'd made the wrong choice creeps on him, as a shadow on a grave.

Arthur's heart ached anew, like someone had stomped on a bulb beginning to open up.

And this time he had no one to blame but himself.

Arthur was back in town. He'd been invited to the annual Halloween do.

Merlin had upgraded. He'd gotten a second year flat with a few friends from his course and had decided to host this year. The whole gang were to arrive shortly, although it was an open party so God knows who or how many would actually arrive.

Arthur had nearly had to say no but he'd worked out the scheduling with his agent. He wouldn't be staying long though, his flights has been booked close together.

He and Merlin didn't text all the time like they used to anymore. And they never called, that was a rarity.

Arthur was on film sets all the time anyway and the latest movie was very hush hush and kept under wraps. The director had all the actors and film crew under a strict no phones policy. Arthur thought it was ridiculous but the role was well paid and the script was well written so he'd deal with the directors odd quirks.

It was nice to see Merlin and Merlin's flat. He seemed to be doing well.

Merlin was a dedicated host. Arthur figured he'd hang out with people he already knew: Gwen, Lance and Leon.

He wasn't met with the reception he'd been expecting, all the dirty looks he got from Will were an unpleasant surprise. Couldn't the guy atleast fake civility?

Even Gwen seemed to be avoiding him a little and Leon only stuck to the topic of sports.

Sure he hadn't been super in touch lately but the weird brush off he felt was making him clutch his beer bottle with nerves.

Everyone had gone all out. The food, the decorations, the costumes. Merlin had clearly put a lot of effort into this. He was dressed as a vampire, his plump lower lip a deep red with two lines drawn on either side down his chin. The collar of his cheap cape was pricked up and opened out to display a tightly fit brocaded black waistcoat that glinted underneath.

Merlin's party trick for the night was to pull his arm up half over his face and say "Welcome to my abode, here have some... Vine" whenever a new guest showed up before taking them to the snacks and drinks table.

Arthur hadn't had time for a costume. When people asked what he was supposed to be, he'd give an ironic smile and say "I'm a film director".

He'd thought the line hilarious but for Will it was a red rag to the bull.

Will stomped over, anger boiling over. "Hey Hollywood, get that stick out of your ass already. We don't care that you're famous."

"I do," a girl dressed like a devil had murmured, fluttering her lashes at Arthur.

The glare Will shot her was withering. She moved off promptly.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse me?" Will mimicked in a posh biting English accent, forgoing his usual Welsh lilt. Arthur bristled, resentment bubbling between the two of them, sparking like live wires.

Merlin appeared out of nowhere and eased his way between them. "Hey, hey. Let's party, yeah? It's Halloween! Go have fun. Have you seen Freya's mermaid costume yet? It's insane."

Merlin subtlety pushed Will towards Freya and grabbed Arthur's hand, tugging him into his room.

He closed the door behind them and the music pulsed behind it, muffled. Merlin gently pushed Arthur towards the bed. He had a double now, definitely an upgrade.

"Here, sit down."

Merlin didn't come and sit next to him on the bed like he usually would but across from him on his wheely desk chair.

"Hey, um, thanks for coming. I honestly wasn't sure if you would."

"Of course I'd come, Merlin. It's the annual Halloween party and you're hosting." He paused. "Hey, what's up with Will? He seems to be being a bigger dick than usual."

Merlin frowned and leaned back in his chair, it squeaked a bit in protest. He doesn't answer instead he moves the cape that rests around his shoulders, fiddling with it and the knot at his neck.

Arthur took the silence for what it was. "You don't think he's being a dick? What do you agree with him, think that I'm some Hollywood hokey?"

Merlin shook his head immediately.
"No, of course not. I'm so proud of you. You've achieved so much."

Arthur leaned forward too, moving so their knees brushed. "Well, what is it then? Come on, Merls. You can tell me."

Merlin pursed his lips. "Can I?"

Arthur was close enough that he could see Merlin was wearing mascara and a bit of eyeliner. The buttons clasping the waistcoat together shone, a sliver of pale neck tantalised.

He inhaled sharply.

"Um." Arthur was mesmerized, tongue tied. In the soft intimacy of the quiet bedroom, Merlin's cozy bedcovers and the glittering fairy lights, Merlin looked breathtaking.

He needed to focus. "Yeah."

"Really? Because I haven't heard off you, not properly, in months."

"Oh well the film I'm working on, the director doesn't want phones around set because-"

"And what about before that?" Merlin interrupted.

"Before that? Merlin, I'm sorry. My schedules been crazy and with the time difference, it's hard to keep in touch."

Merlin shakes his head. "We've barely talked. I just feel like, I don't know. You're the same but different and I know part of that is that we're growing up but I never forgot you, never left you behind the way you seem to be doing to me."

"Merlin, I haven't forgotten you." He moves in closer, pulled towards Merlin. A moth to the flame. He looks at him, his lush mouth, the pink tint creeping up his pale cheeks as he realised their proximity.

Arthur's enchanted.

It's like slow motion. He's not really thinking as he leans forward, brain offline as his mouth presses against Merlin's properly. Arthur's hands come up to cup Merlin's cheek and the nape of his neck, covered by the stupid cloak.

Merlin leans in for a second, lip on lip, his hands moving to Arthur's knee for balance. Stars burst behind Arthur's eyes.

Exquisite, everything he ever wanted, wonderful-

Merlin breaks the kiss and turns his face away and stands, rigid with anguish.

It feels like a slap to the face, a rush of cold.

"No," Merlin says quietly.

Then louder "No! That's exactly- You can't just- you can't just waltz back in after minimal communication and-"

Merlin breaks off in a huff, frustrated. His red lip is smeared from the kiss and his hands are balled up tight at his side.

Arthur stands there awkwardly. He's too stunned to speak, feeling incredibly wrong-footed.

"When you came back, I thought fine. We can be friends. You've shown up, great. We were once best friends before we became kind of more, I can do that again. And then- then you kiss me - properly, at this stupid party when its the first time I've seen you in months, after years of dancing around whatever this thing between us is." Merlin shakes. "What do I do with that? Is it forever going to be that we're more than friends but less than everything else? I don't want half promises or to get involved just for you to leave again as soon as a new role comes up. I bet your heading off to the airport again before the week is out. I don't want that."

Merlin kept speaking but all Arthur hears is I don't want you.

It beats like a pulse in his head, consumes him.

Between the jetlag, the weird vibe with his friends, the fight with Will and the rejection from Merlin the rest of that evening is a bit of a blur. He just wants to get away from here.

Arthur remembers he shouted and that he left, boarded an earlier plane.

They text a few times, some meek half-sincere apologies and stilted stiff texts before they give up the ghost and stop communicating altogether.

Arthur returns to LA and he doesn't look back.

He produces film after film after film. He dazzles in interviews, he poses on billboards, signs autographs and smiles for photos until his jaw aches.

He dates, parties. He gets engaged. He does it all.

And yet he still misses home.

Misses him.

"Son, why are you here?"

Arthur looked puzzled. "It's Christmas."

As the dazzling seasonal decor indicated, alongside the massive tree currently taking up half the living room.

"And yet, you have missed Christmas for the last three years. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you. You're always welcome here, Arthur. But that doesn't answer the question; why are you here?"

"Because..." Arthur floundered. Why was he here?

Uther paused.

"You know, there isn't a thing in this world, aside from you, that I wouldn't give to see her again." Arthur knew his father meant Ygraine.

"There's nothing like ones hometown, no other place on earth like it. I think you came home because you finally realized you feel that way too."

Arthur was incredibly aware that they were not talking about hometowns, the geographical place.

Arthur opened and closed his mouth, stunned by Uther's implication.

"You've been running for a long time. Maybe it's time to take a breath." His hand clapped Arthur's shoulder warmly for a brief moment before he turned his attention back towards his book.

Arthur was still, processing what had just been said. Uther was right. As much as he loved his father, it wasn't the real reason he'd come back.

The reason he'd come back was the same reason he broke it off with Sophie.

He grabbed his keys.

"Atta boy," Uther muttered into his tea.

Arthur had loved Merlin ever since that fateful day on the swings area in reception.

He'd loved him when they'd pressed together in drunken cameraderie and giggled whilst pissed on the local playground.

He'd loved him in their close quarter hang outs during university and at that Halloween party.

He'd loved Merlin when he was in L.A.

Arthur loved him, always.

Merlin was playing his guitar, light brushes over the strings and his voice rose softly alongside it. Deep resonant notes lifted into the air.

"I hate the telephone, it never leaves me be. Presence a misery. Ringing only to bring bad news. But worse is when it's silent. The voice in my head gets violent. I hate the telephone. It reminds me I'm alone."

Arthur hovered by the door.

"I went to visit you, took hours to get through." Merlin hummed the next bit, then stopped to pull out a notebook and write something down before he continued composing.

The floorboard under Arthur's foot creaked as he shifted his weight. Merlin continued to play the guitar but his head tilted to one side.

Arthur knew he'd been rumbled. He let the door widen to reveal himself.

"Hey, your mum let me in. I didn't realise you still composed."

"Never stopped," Merlin said.

"New song?"

"No, it's a very old one. I never finished it."

Arthur swallowed.

"Merlin," Arthur whispered.

"Please don't," he replied.

Merlin put his guitar down and his legs folded up, tucking under him as he sat cross legged on his bed. His neck arched up, his head resting against the wall behind him.

The words left unsaid lingered between them, oppressive. Like some kind of invisible fire sucking all the oxygen from the room and creating an unbearable heat.

The ice had finally melted but an inferno bubbled beneath.

"This christmas sucks," Merlin sighed.

Arthur chose not to answer, instead he looked around Merlin's room. It had changed a lot since he'd last been in it, it wasn't a mausoleoum of his childhood like Arthur's was. It was more adult now, no lingering teenage - well, mostly no lingering teenage, The Darkness poster was perhaps a tad out of place. He clocked the oak tree bauble, hanging from one of the knobs on the set of drawers.

Interesting, Merlin had decided to put it in his room instead of on display downstairs.

His eye caught on a small string of postcards from various friend and an old newspaper clipping that had been bluetacked to the wall. He drifted over to it, his fingertips grazing the yellowing article.

It was Arthur's first mention in a paper, some film review from one of his very early movies.

His chest clenched and he leaned against the wall for a moment.

"You kept this."

Merlin didn't speak but there was a new tension in the air.

"I've been a fool," Arthur said, dipping his head against the wall. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to power up his confidence.

"I gave you the oak tree because I remembered it was your tree sign. You were super into druids and all the festivals. I saw it and thought of you. I didn't tell you that when you asked because I felt stupid and worried you would've forgotten."

Merlin's dark eyebrows were perfect arches. "You remembered? I felt so embarrassed after I asked about it. It was so long ago, such trivial stuff. I didn't think... I didn't think you'd remember."

"I'll always remember," Arthurs voice a low rumbling whisper. He was referring to the kiss.

"Well, you also fell out of the tree and hit your head pretty hard."

"Did I? Oh well... I don't remember that part."

Merlin let out a wet laugh.

"I uh, I came to visit you. In America. After that Halloween party. To say sorry, to say... Your agent said you were unavailable."

"What? Arthur was stunned. "I had no idea you'd come to see me."

Merlin looked abashed. "I'd always thought- after what I pulled at the party that you just didn't want to speak to me, or see me. Then you didn't come home, not even at Christmas..." Merlin trailed off with a shrug. "I figured I'd ruined everything and that I'd leave you in peace."

Merlin gave a small smile. "So when I saw you here and you asked to go to the pub, I was stunned."

Arthur was an idiot. They'd been apart this whole time when they could've been together?

"I should've stayed, fought for us. I should've got in touch, made more effort. I am so sorry that I left, ran away to L.A. I'm here now."

A shadow of doubt crossed Merlin's face. "What about Sophie? You only broke up 6 months ago, you were engaged."

"We only dated for 3 months,Merlin. I don't know what I was thinking. I was trying to hold onto something that felt real, solid. God, I've missed you so much Merlin. Nothing's ever been as real as when we're together."

That answer suits Merlin just fine. He brings Arthur's head down to his and they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Arthur's hand reaches for Merlin and Merlin yanks him by the collar.

They stumble, pressing against one another as they pull at buttons and step out of their shoes. Arthur's hands are in Merlin's hair and Merlin makes a small sound that drives Arthur wild.

They're lying on Merlin's bed, plaid sheets soft beneath them.

Merlin straddles Arthur and kisses down his neck. Arthur's head flips uselessly to the side, his fingers stroke circles into Merlin's thighs.

Merlin's hand creeps lower, his kisses become bites. He pulls back.

"Are you sure? I won't be a rebound" Merlin said sternly, pausing his pulling of Arthur's belt.

If only you knew, Arthur thought, Sophie had been the rebound all along.

"You won't be." He promised, placing a gentle kiss on Merlin's mouth. "I won't leave this time, I won't ever leave you. I want you, only you."

Merlin's lips drifted, hand gripping the nape of his neck as familiar slender fingers drifted down, delicately popping buttons as they went.

"Please," he urged Merlin on.

They lie together on Merlin's bed after. Just like they did when they were sixteen with their A level text books splayed about them and highlighters with mismatched lids.

This time there was nothing but certainty. He wouldn't lose Merlin, not again. And Merlin won't let him go so easy.

Arthur's palm lay open between them, empty. He half turned towards Merlin, who was as striking as ever. Bright periwinkle eyes giving Arthur no room to hide.

He found he didn't need to, not anymore.

"My flight leaves on Thursday." He took a deep breath. "Come with me?"

Merlin slipped his fingers through Arthur's, locking their hands together. "Yes."