"Oi, watch it! What's the matter with you," Arthur complained as he staggered sideways from sharp corners to his shoulder. Any other words froze in his mouth at the ice blue glare from the offender.

"Watch yourself, mate," Merlin Ambruss sneered.

"Geeze, sorry," Arthur muttered. "Just be careful, yeah? Don't go around unnecessarily running in to blokes." He dropped his eyes, willing his mouth to shut up.

"Watch who you're talking to, Pendragon. It might get you in trouble." He turned on a heel and walked off.

"God, what was that," Gwen asked as she rushed over.

Arthur finally felt like there was enough air to breathe. "I dunno. Geeze, he's terrifying."

Gwen murmured comforting words as Merlin's thin back made its way through the parting crowd. Turning back to his locker, he scowled. He was on the rugby team as well as student government, but that didn't stop him from being terrified or feeling like Ambruss owned half the school. He wasn't your typical bully. If that was even an appropriate term. Arthur thought maybe warlord suited better.

The boy was tall. Looked like he hardly ate, and Arthur would have said homeless except for the name brand trousers that probably incited the temper because they were so tight. His dark brown mop of hair hung low over his eyes, intimidating. Until one actually noticed his eyes. And everyone did. His eyes balanced above sharp cheek bones, intense blue, calculating and hidden. There were no secrets to be gleaned from those eyes. They never smiled or showed anything Merlin didn't want them to. They seemed to bore right through you and know all your secrets. Pin you where you stand. Make you want to spill all your secrets. Shrink back until you were smaller than your five-year-old self. Hide until you thought he couldn't see you any more.

"Arthur?"

He blinked. "Sorry, Gwen. Just... Just thinking."

"Right. Well let's get to class, yeah?"

"Sure." He smiled. "Let's go."

Arthur manages to avoid Merlin for the rest of the week, unfortunately running right into him around a corner the following Monday. Today just wasn't his day.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of my way, Pendgragon?" Merlin hisses, eyes cold and dangerous.

"Trust me," Arthur muttered as he knelt to pick up his dropped spirals, "I've been doing my best."

Merlin's hand snaked out and pushed him backwards. "Don't mouth off to me."

"Don't mouth off to me, mate!" Arthur growled, swatting at Merlin's hand and pushing back.

Merlin's lips twisted into something that might have been a smile on another person. "Are you sure you want to be starting this fight?" He asked, voice quiet.

Arthur was sure that was probably a warning, but right now, he didn't seem to care. He dove at Merlin's waist, taking the boy down to the hard tile, both of them grunting as they started to scuffle.

"Oh God!" He heard Gwen cry and then shout for Lance.

Arthur figured he should stop worrying about others when Merlin somehow managed to get on top of him, slamming him down. He saw stars as his head cracked against the floor. Shouts rose up around them and it probably meant that teachers would be running in at any moment.

"You are so dead, Pendragon," Merlin hissed next to his ear, pulling his hair back, biting down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"Fuck! Get off!" he yelped, twisting under Merlin.

Merlin merely rolled with the weight, flowing to his feet, arms loose by his sides.

Arthur growled and jabbed in with a punch, his fist easily going by the side of Merlin's face and finding himself looking at the ceiling. With no air to breathe. He clawed at his chest, strangled noises coming from his mouth as he tried to suck in air, eyes watering.

"Arthur!" Lance fell to his knees next to Arthur, helping him sit.

Not helping his pride, however. The air came back, but by this time, the teachers were ordering people to their classes and chastising Merlin. And Arthur. Though Arthur bore the brunt of it. While Merlin just smirked. He gave Arthur a two-fingered salute and then sauntered away in the middle of his half of the lecture.

Arthur shut up about bemoaning his detention. Gwen had no sympathy and, after hearing the whole story, Lance didn't either. Instead, he glowered through the rest of the day, played hard in rugby, and tried to figure out how the deuce Merlin had gotten the better of him. He knew he was no weakling in fights. He could take men down easily. He served his duty, careful not to complain to Gwen or Lance. Gwaine, his mate on the rugby team, however, was fair game. And entirely on his side. Which made things better. Gwaine joked about him being taken down by a slip of a man, teasing him horribly, but admitting that Merlin scared the piss out of him and he would rather punch himself in the balls than be alone in the same room as him.

"You certainly do have the flair for imagery, Gwaine."

"Right mate!" And then he clapped him on the shoulder and played rough in the game.

After the game was over, Arthur treated himself to a long shower. The rest of the team was going out for drinks, and Arthur should meet them there, was the consensus. He hummed agreement and then went back to basking in the hot water. Dressing quickly, he set out to meet his friends. With his luck, of course, as he turned the corner, Merlin and some shady-looking characters were loitering against a wall. Between him and the pub.

"Pendragon!" he called cheerfully. "You've been avoiding me again."

Arthur's feet refused to move. And, he thought shamefully, his mobile was in his bag. So instead, he called, "Merlin. Hullo. What can I help you with today?"

He sauntered towards Arthur. "I thought I'd introduce you to a couple of my friends."

"You know what," Arthur said, beginning to sweat, "I really don't have time today. Lovely of you to offer, but I have my own mates to meet."

"Surely they can wait." Merlin clapped a hand on his shoulder, propelling him forward towards the mix of rather derelict teens. There was a sullen-looking boy with unkempt brown hair, a fierce looking blonde woman, long curls mixed with purple streaks, and another bloke with a horrible burn scar covering half his face. He was grinning and it kind of made Arthur want to cut and run.

"They've already been waiting, you see..."

"Allow me to introduce Will, Morgause, and Edwin."

"Cheers. Cheers. Nice to meet you. Now, really, I must be going." He tried to move forward, but Merlin's bruising grip on his wrist gave him a short leash.

"You know, Arthur—I can call you Arthur, can't I? Of course. Arthur, this is quite a fine shirt you've got. I'm sure Edwin would love it round his shoulders."

"Oh yeah. I bet it'll fit me perfectly!"
"Arthur, why don't you be a chap and give it to him."

Seething inwardly but showing a smile, he shrugged out of his jacket and pulled this shirt off and handed it to Edwin. "Enjoy it."

"Oh, I will." He pulled it over his head, lifting the collar and inhaled.

"And this jacket..." Merlin tsked. "I really bet Morgause would look stunning in a piece like this. Don't you think?"

Arthur had just slung it round his shoulders.

"Don't you think?" Merlin's fingers pinched the back of his hand.

"Of course," he grit and shrugged it over to her.

She bared her teeth in what was probably a smile in her mind and tucked it over her arm.

"What do I get, Merlin?" Will drawled.

"You can have his trainers."

"What do you get, Merlin?" Edwin rasped.

"Me...?" He turned to Arthur with a speculative gleam in his eye. "What will you give me, Arthur?"

"What do you want?" Arthur replied tiredly, kicking his comfortable trainers to Will, the pavement cold beneath his now bare feet.

A smile curved his lips, rather terrifying. "Your pants."

"My what!"

"Give me your pants."

Arthur flushed. "No! I'm not going to... I'm already half-naked! That's—This is embarrassing!"

Merlin spun him and pushed him up against the wall. "And what, dear boy, did you think was the point?"

Arthur ground his teeth, shaking hands undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers before shoving them down and pushing his pants down and kicking them off before yanking his trousers back up. Not before Edwin gave a lecherous whistle. And Merlin grinned widely.

"Not too bad, Pendragon. Nicely hung. Whoops. I meant 'nicely done.'"

Arthur felt hi face burn and ducked his head. "Perv."

"Thanks for these," Merlin twirls his pants around a long finger, his cronies, for lack of a better term, snickering. He leans in close to Arthur, forcing him back against the wall again. "Perhaps it's time for you to find your friends. Just be sure you're not crying when you do."

His fists trembling at his side, Arthur kept his face carefully blank.

Merlin gave him a final shove and then stepped back, laughing. "You're so easy, Pendragon."

"You've got what you want," he said tightly.

Merlin gave him a pitying glance and then swaggered down the street, the threesome following him with varied degrees of disgust in his direction as they passed.

Arthur bent down to open his bag and pull out a dirty shirt to pull over his head.

"Whoo! Arthur is that you?" Gwen exclaimed as he sat down next to her.

"Yes."

"And here I thought you were late because you had to shower!" She looked over at him. "Something wrong?"

"Nope. Everything's fine."

"What happened to your jacket? It's cold out, Arthur! Really, you should take better ca—"

"Fine, Gwen. It's fine."

Lance sent him a questioning glance, but Arthur just ordered a drink and proceeded to get very very drunk, ignoring the way his trousers chafed against his bare skin.

He was reprimanded for his trainer-less feet. But really, he insisted with a bright smile, it was no bother.

"He's planning revenge," Lance muttered to her.

"God, school's going to be a warzone."

Two weeks later and Arthur hadn't seen any sign of the three other 'friends' of Merlin at school, leading him to conclude that they didn't go there and he had no friends at their school. There were a few minor altercations of Merlin tripping Arthur, slamming his locker on his hands, and writing in his books. So Arthur seethed.

After school that Friday, he followed Merlin. At least to the school gates because Merlin noticed him rather easily.

"Want something, Pendragon."

"Yeah," he called with more bravado than he felt. "I want to know what it is you have against me."

"Nothing in particular." The boy's blue eyes don't tell him anything.

"Nothing. So it's... just for fun."

"Yes."

Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit stunned, then blurted, "You're twisted."

"I'm what I am," he countered.

"You're bloody mad."

Merlin just smiled, stepping closer. His hand flew out, cracking against Arthur's cheek. A slap. "Later, darling."

Not a punch. A slap. Derisive. Condescending. The insult curls around Arthur's insides like fire. A slap.

"Arthur! Arthur!" Gwaine ran over and grabbed his shoulder before he could lurch after Merlin.

"God, I hate him," he breathed, hardly able to believe the strength of the emotion. "He's...he's awful, Gwaine. He's the bitterest most horrible person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I want to hit him, Gwaine. I want to shove him over and hit him like he's another rugby player."

"And he'll probably tip you over like a man would a little girl," Gwaine said cheerfully, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"That doesn't make me feel better," Arthur grumbled. He took a deep breath and followed Gwaine's tug.

The pattern went on in a passive, intrusive way. Merlin putting him down. Merlin slapping him. Merlin tripping him. Merlin bumping him in the hall. Merlin sneering at him. Merlin making obscene gestures at him.

He let out a strangled scream, tearing at his hair as he snuck into the empty room that he, Gwen, Lance, and occasionally Gwaine and Kay.

"You alright, honey?"

"Gwen! This is not funny." He slammed his books down on the floor and threw himself into a chair.

Lance and Kay laughed. "This bloke must really have something against you, Art."

"Shuttit, Kay. And never call me that again."

"Think your face'll freeze like that, mate," Gwaine said, slipping into the room.

"Why does no one help me!"

"You think any of us wants to attract the attention of Merlin?" Lance said. "Not that we don't love you, mate, but we're not really willing to get our arses handed to us if we intervene for you."

"Thanks. Great lot you are," Arthur grumbled bitterly.

"Seriously, Arthur, maybe you should think about transferring."

"That's not a joke. It's actually serious," Arthur moaned, dragging the heels of his hands across his face. "I need... God. I need a bodyguard. Maybe I can just play sick for the rest of the semester. Anyone have mono? I'd kiss someone just to get mono."

"You really are desperate," Lance drawled. "It's a bit pathetic mate."

"Just talk to him!"

Arthur rounded on Kay. "You think I haven't tried that!"

Kay shrugged and Arthur shook his head. "I have to piss."

"Classy, Arthur," Gwen reprimanded as he slipped out of the room.

"Pendragon!" Merlin's voice held all sorts of painful promises.

He turned, proud that he hadn't cringed. "Merlin. What do you want? Though I feel like I've asked that question before, and you never quite answer."

Merlin's blues went wide with false innocence (however convincing it might be, had Arthur not known better), and he leaned forward with a kind hand on Arthur's forearm. "I don't want anything." Then he laughed and brushed passed him.

Arthur just gaped and tried to suppress the scream of frustration, heading to the loo, screaming into his shirt. The person in the stall next to him flailed emphatically and it made Arthur feel a little bit better.

The next day, however, he was horribly dismayed to discover that Merlin had transferred into his history class.

"Shit, no..."

But Merlin smiled widely at him and the rest of the class ignored him for the rest of the hour. Merlin had effectively painted a target on him, and no one else, despite Arthur's popularity, wanted to be caught in the collateral damage. Merlin sauntered towards him, booting the kid next to him out of the seat and claiming it for his own.

Arthur wanted to tear at his hair.

The next week effectively passed the same way. Arthur tormented by Merlin's mere presence. Merlin's presence constantly promising pain, humiliation, and much losing despite Arthur's superior build, endurance, and sport ability. It was frustrating and awful. Especially when Merlin kept cornering him in the loo.

"What do you want?"

"Always the same question, Arthur," Merlin purred. "Can't you be more original?"

Trying to ease the pressure on his twisted arm, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Do you have some sort of crush on me? And this is the only way you can tell me?" His arm was suddenly free and he was shoved away.

"What are you on about? I don't like blokes." Merlin's eyes narrowed.

"Really?"

"Oh don't sound so surprised, Pendragon."

"Sorry," Arthur shrugged. "I guess... I guess I just stereotyped is all. What with how you look."

Pushing him up against the wall roughly, Merlin hissed, "And what's wrong with the way I look?"

"Do you really want me to—Sorry! Sorry! Ease off, mate! You look the part is all..."

The sweet smile Merlin gave him made him shiver. "And what would you know?"

"Call it gay-dar?" He offered weakly.

Jerking back in genuine surprise, Merlin quickly covered the expression into a sneer. "So you fancy blokes?"

There really wasn't any point in lying. He'd probably find out. Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Merlin could have gotten ahold of his journal. Not that he kept one of course. That was a bit too... "I do."

"Really? Don't take the piss on me, Pendragon. You'll hurt."

"I do. Ask Gwen. Though don't you dare hassle her, you understand."

"I don't think you're in a position to be doing any sort of bargaining." Merlin gave him another rough shove and then swaggered away. "Pleasure talking to you."

When Arthur caught himself watching Merlin's hips, he slapped himself. There was no way he was thinking those types of thoughts about Merlin Ambruss.

However, once he'd realised the fact that Merlin had skinny little hips, high cheekbones, gorgeous blues, and rather full lips, he couldn't exactly unsee. Or be subtle about the fact that he was looking.

"Arthur... You're not...oggling Merlin Ambruss. Are you?" Gwen asked, looking at him like he was touched in the head.

"God no. No no. I most definitely am not."

"Methinks the lad doth protest too much!" Gwaine called out as he passed by the two of them during lunch.

"Shut up, Gwaine!"

"Arthur," Gwen breathed.

He made the mistake of meeting her gaze. Then crumpled onto the table. "Oh God! Gwen! You've got to... to kill me or something! I'm developing Stockholm Syndrome!"

"Arthur!"

"It's true! He's...he's attractive! Even if he is a bloody arse!" He gripped Gwen's hands. "You've got to...snap me out of it or something."

"Arthur, there is no way that you can possibly fancy Ambruss. He's been nothing but a prick to you, hassling you, making your life miserable, and driving you nutters. Keep away and don't even look at him. Understand?" Her firm tones calmed him somewhat.

"I know. I know. I know. God, what's wrong with me!"

At least Gwen's laughter was distracting. "Calm down, Arthur. You're fine. You're not throwing yourself at him. And I will admit, he's quite...lovely to look at."

"Yet, Gwen. I'm not throwing myself at him yet."

"Don't look so upset."

"Why's Arthur upset?" Lance asked as he joined them.

"Lance! I need you to tie me up in my room and—"

"Whoa... I knew you liked blokes, Arthur, but I don't...go that way. Remember?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's for self protection."

"Against what?"

"Me. And my..." Arthur leaned in close to whisper. "Stockholm Syndrome."

"What on earth is that?" Lance frowned.

"When someone is captured and he or she falls in love with the person who's bound them up."

"God, Arthur, that's sick."

"I know," Arthur moaned, pulling at his hair. "It's awful." He lifted his head to meet Lance's eyes. "At least I only find him attractive. But you must tie me up before I do further harm to both my mental facilities and my social standing."

"I don't think the latter is something you have to worry about. Everyone already avoids you, Arthur," Gwen teased.

Lance laughed. "Poor Arthur."

"Right, you lot, that's enough." Arthur stood, gathering his books and things. "Now if you don't mind, I've got to get going."

"To be tortured?" Gwen snickered.

He gave her a glare and then left.

Hiding himself in the library, Arthur tore at his hair some more, trying to figure a way to reconcile all of this. Merlin hated him. He rather fancied Merlin. But Merlin hated him. He didn't even know if Merlin liked men, but he thought he might. Call it a hunch, what have you, but Merlin was denying himself. Arthur ignored the part where he was actually wishing it true.

He slunk over to a computer, bypassing the security to the school records. There.

Merlin Ambruss

Mother: Hunith Ambruss

Father: N/A

Home Address: 96 Clark Lane

Home number, mobile number, et cetera, et cetera. Nothing really of interest. Arthur chewed at a hang-nail. Nothing that told him about Merlin.

He rode past Merlin's home over the weekend, learning still nothing.

Monday came and Arthur let himself be visible instead of skulking to avoid Merlin.

"Do you have a death-wish?" Gwen asked, sliding into the desk next to him.

"Gwen! Good morning. Lovely to see you. How was your weekend."

Gwen rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Don't you look like the cat who caught the canary."

"Not really. Nothing's been caught."

"Oh? What's this all about then?"

"You know. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"As much as I enjoy colloquialisms, Arthur, I have no idea what you're getting at."

"I'm going to become friends with Merlin," he announced proudly, though quietly.

"God, maybe I should call the mental hospital. You're nutters! He'll skewer you! He'll... He'll kill you, Arthur!"

"Maybe he's just hurt inside and needs some love."

Gwen dropped her head into her hands. "That sounds so wrong, Arthur." She reached across the aisle and patted his shoulder. "I'll come to your funeral. I'll give a lovely speech too."

Arthur laughed. "Thanks for your vote of confidence." But then class started and there was no more talking for fear of consequences.

"So now what?" Gwen asked by his shoulder as they headed into the hallway.

Arthur shrugged. "Kill him with kindness."

"Who's killing what now?" Lance asked, slipping an arm around Gwen's waist.

Arthur just smiled and sauntered off down the hall where he knew he would run into Merlin.

"Pendragon!" Merlin called over the hallway noise like was greeting an old friend.

"Merlin." Arthur just smiled back and waved.

Merlin's eyebrows shot up and Arthur felt a little accomplished at bringing the expression unbidden. "What are you doing?"

"Greeting you."

"Thanks, pissant." Merlin rolled his eyes. "What's your game?"

"Just being friendly."

Merlin took a step back. "Don't think you can get me on your gay train."

Arthur smiled again. "Not trying to. Though it'd make life a lot more stressful if you didn't have to hassle me and I didn't have to worry about being hassled by you."

With narrowed eyes, Merlin stepped forward, encroaching on Arthur's personal space. "Don't think that you'll ever soften me, Pendragon."

The same argument happened, again and again, Arthur ending up with bruises on his arms, his shoulders, his face (when Merlin out-right slapped him), his ankles, his shins, his ribs.

They were outside of the school when Arthur finally blurted, "What did I ever do to you to make you hate me!"

Merlin's face screwed up into something uncomfortably like real emotion—all fiercely anger and hurt and outrage. In any other situation, it would have been terribly attractive. "What did you do?"

"Yeah!" Arthur shouted back. "What did I do to make you hate me. What did I do that you feel you have to put me down at every turn and make my life miserable."

"Ha! A miserable life? What do you even know about misery, Arthur Pendragon!" Merlin's thin arms snaked out and shoved Arthur so that he stumbled. He shoved him again and Arthur fell. "My life's sodding hell because of your father!"

"What does he even have to do with this?" Arthur replied, starting to get to his feet.

Merlin only shoved him back down again and kicked his thigh. "He arrested my Da! Who was bloody innocent!"

"What? I don't know anything about that! It doesn't have anything to do wi—"

"Shut up!" Merlin shoved him down again, kneeing him in the chest. "Your father arrested mine when he was sick! He was sick, Arthur! And he went to prison, too weak to even defend himself, but your father," he spat the word, face twisted horribly, "he didn't even care! He was so caught up in thinking he arrested the 'Sarney Murder' that he didn't even stop to listen!"

Arthur scrabbled against Merlin, but the latter merely pushed harder on his chest, pinning his hands to the ground eventually.

"He dropped my Da in prison and didn't listen to any of the appeals or anything! So he died. When there was a riot. Dead."

Arthur stopped struggling. "Listen. I'm sorry about your father. It's not my fault," he said quietly.

Merlin sat back uncomfortably on Arthur's stomach and hips. "So I learned how to defend myself," he continued, sounding small and lost. "And look where it's gotten me."

"Alone."

Merlin thumped a fist on his chest making him cough. "Shut up."

Sighing, Arthur let his head fall back on the grass. "Merlin, it's not my fault, yeah? Am I like my father?"

"You like cock."

"That's not what I meant."

Merlin snorted.

"Am I like my father?"

Looking away and slumping slightly, Merlin finally admitted, "Not as near as I can tell."

"Right then. So can we see how this is all a bit silly?"

Merlin's blues flashed as his brow immediately furrowed. "There is nothing silly about my—"

"Calm down! I didn't say anything about you being silly. I meant this feud against me. I've done nothing against you, so can you stop hating me on principle?"

Merlin waits a moment before getting off Arthur with a sigh. "I hate you forever." He gave Arthur one last weak kick and then stalked off.

Arthur pulled himself to his feet and couldn't help a little smug grin for himself.