The weekend was over, giving Arthur a lot of time to think. Merlin hated him. But he realised that Arthur was nothing like his father. So in order to make Merlin think better of him, he just had to cement that thought—that Arthur was nothing like his father. So he read up on Merlin's dad's case. It was hard at first, but then he got onto his dad's computer and looked up the case files. Merlin had his mum's last name: Ambruss. And his father was Berty Emrys. Berty Emrys who had died in a prison riot because he was sick and couldn't defend himself.

Arthur chewed his lip, looking over the evidence.

His father was not wrong. But neither was he right. Berty was the most logical choice as a suspect. But he didn't have motive. It would have been random killings. Also, his MO didn't match the Sarney Murders. Berty was not the killer. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And living alone, being a hermit had certainly harmed not helped his case.

"My dad was wrong, you know," Arthur said as Merlin sat down next to him in history.

"What?"

"My dad was wrong. About your dad."

Merlin glared at him. "No one asked you."

"Not directly. But I could tell that you were still really upset about the fact that your father was viewed as a criminal."

"Shut up about my da!"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Ambruss?"

Merlin's face coloured and he returned to his open book. "No, Ma'am."

"Good, then please read the next paragraph?"

"Sixth paragraph, page 178," Arthur whispered with a smile.

There was another glare and Arthur settled back into his seat to wait until the end of class.

"So," Arthur prefaced. "Want to skip next period and get a coffee?"

Merlin's brows shot up. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not taking the piss, I promise."

"You're mental if you think I would willingly spend time with you."

"No wait. Seriously," Arthur grabbed his arm.

"Mate, you really don't want to be touching me," Merlin growled, low, shaking his arms off.

"Sorry, sorry. No offense, you know." Arthur smiled and took a step back. "Next time then."

"There won't be a next time," Merlin muttered and stalked off.

"That went well, I can see," Gwen drawled as she walked up beside Arthur.

"Gwen!"

"Arthur... I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

"Telling him'll do no good, Gwen," Lance added with a laugh. "You know how stubborn he is."

"You two are not helping."

"Arthur, maybe you really do need to be restrained," Lance said.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur sighed. "You two need to learn to have more faith in me. Honestly. I can make this work."

"This is one of your crazier ideas though," Gwen said, patting his arm.

"Fine fine. I see how it is. Oh ye of little faith. There's always after school."

After school didn't fare any better. Merlin slapped him again.

The next day was much of the same.

Arthur spoke to his father about the case on Wednesday.

"I just think that, even to clear his name, father, that it might be a good idea to take a second look at the case. There was no motive for—"

"Arthur! I am not having this discussion with you."

"But you have to admit that I'm right."

"You are not right."

"But I don't think he was guilty."

"What does it matter, Arthur? The man is already dead. It won't do any good to him to clear his name at this point."

"But it would matter. It would matter to his family!"

"Arthur! He's dead. There are other cases I need to be working on. That one is cold and a waste of time."

"Father—"

"Enough. Arthur. I am busy. Please leave me to my work in peace."

Arthur stalked out of the room, stalking down Merlin first thing the next morning.

"I'm sorry."

"For what. For stalking me? For harassing me? For annoying me? For showing your ugly face to me? For—"

"About your father."

Merlin's arrogant demeanour fizzled. "We're not talking about it."

"My father won't listen."

"Of course your father won't listen. Shit, Arthur. Your father's an arse and an arrogant prick."

"H-hey! That's my father, you know."

"But you know it's true. And don't you think we tried speaking to him?"

"Well..." Arthur dropped his gaze. "Well, yes. But—"

"Exactly. Now we're done."

"No, no! Wait. I mean, I talked to him myself. Because I know you're right. And it... I just wanted to say I'm sorry because he wouldn't listen."

"I'm not going to say I told you—wait, you... you spoke to your father about my da's case?"

"Well... Yes."

"Why... I mean. What for?"

"To clear his name. Even if it is post-humously."

Merlin screwed up his face. "Why would you... Why would you? For me?"

Arthur gave the other his most winning smile. "Yeah!"

"You're crazy, mate."

"Why. It's just..." Arthur shrugged. "I dunno. It seemed fair."

"Arthur." Merlin shook his head. "Arthur. You make no sense."

Arthur shrugged. "This is a bit awkward. Really. It's not a big deal. I agree that my father can be a prick sometimes. So I'm sorry."

Merlin's eyes shuttered again, and he turned on his heel and walked away.

By the time Friday rolled around, Arthur still hadn't made any progress. But with his father out of town at a convention, a party seemed like the perfect cliché opportunity for Arthur to get Merlin drunk and kiss him until he agreed to go out with him.

"Arthur, that's a terrible idea."

"It is not, Gwen!"

"It is, mate. It really is," Lance agreed, dumping his bag on the lunch table.

"So are you coming?"

"To what?" Gwaine asked.

"I'm having a party—"

"So he can get Merlin drunk and snog him," Lance interrupted.

"Sounds great, Arth, I'm in." Gwaine frowned. "Arth. No. That's not happening again. Sorry."

"Sorry is right. That's a terrible nickname," Arthur said, glaring at him. "But are you coming?"

"Course I'm coming. I've got to see this crash and burn."

Arthur reached over, punching Gwaine in the arm. "Who's to say that it will?"

"Arthur. It's you. There's no way that this isn't going to fall apart spectacularly."

"Thanks. Thanks for your vote of confidence, Gwaine. Like you've any authority to speak on the wonders of relationships. How many women have you dated in the past month?"

Gwaine turned his nose up. "One. I'll have you know."

"Oh really?" Gwen perked up. "Who's this then?"

Gwaine coloured. "I... I can't tell."

"Can't tell?" Arthur scoffed. "What's this now? You can tell us."

"Actually... I can't." He folded his arms. "Now when's this party, Pendragon."

"You're dodging the question, Gwaine. We will find out. But the party is this Saturday. 8:00," Arthur said before he turned to Lance and Gwen. "You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it, Arthur!"

"I'll be there," Gwen smiled.

"Excellent. I shall expect a good time to be had by all."

"Well I have to go. Class, you know. Responsibilities."

"Course you do, Gwen," Lance laughed. "Lead chair of the band. Madam Student Council."

Sticking her tongue out, Gwen sniffed. "Someone's got to do it, you know." She gave them a wave and then walked out of the room.

The party idea, it turned out, worked spectacularly. Everyone flailed to the base and got drunk on the punch Arthur not-so-subtly spiked and then subtly spiked again. Gwen crawled on top of Lance and spent most of the evening there, Gwaine flitting from group to group like the social butterfly he was. Merlin slunk in the door and Arthur made sure his punch was especially strong and that he'd had several cups of it before he cornered him in the shadows of the front hall and kissed him.

Merlin scrabbled fantastically against him at first, but when Arthur's fingers curled into his hair, he pulled Arthur close and surged into Arthur's lips.

It was really all brilliant. The tension, the hot skin, the biting, the exploring hands.

Then Merlin shoved him back. He glared at Arthur. "I'm not homo."

"Fine."

Merlin didn't seem to know quite what to do with that reply.

"Want to have sex?"

He looked around. Then at Arthur. Then back around the empty hallway. Then back at Arthur. Finally, he nodded in what he probably thought looked like a careless manner. It just looked like a twitch. "Fine."

Arthur smiled and took his hand, leading him up the stairs to his bedroom. Merlin balked a little at Arthur's door and then pushed past him to open it himself. Before he could make any comment about his room—all red and plush, masculine but posh—Arthur kissed him and backed him up towards his bed. They fell, Merlin's breath gusting across Arthur's face as Arthur landed on his chest.

"I don't..." Merlin said between kisses, "..know how this...works..."

"You can do me," Arthur said as he kissed along Merlin's long neck. "If you think the other will make you any less of a man."

"Yeah? Lookit you then," Merlin replied, arching under Arthur's touch.

"I'm not a woman." Arthur's fingers pulled Merlin's top off and then divested his own, his fingers teasing the skin beneath Merlin's waistband.

"No, just a tease, apparently," Merlin gasped, scrabbling at Arthur's back. "I wouldn't be doing this... if I weren't drunk... you know..."

This shouldn't have hurt, seeing as this was Arthur's entire purpose of the party. But he would admit to it being a little painful. "I know."

"Even if you are pretty," Merlin grunted as he pushed at Arthur's pants. His expression shifted to frustration as they resolutely stayed where they were due to Arthur's belt, eliciting a laugh from the other man. "If your trousers aren't off, Pendragon, I'm not going to fuck you...!"

That was just the right incentive for Arthur to slither out of his trousers and pants and from there on it turned into something warm, blissful, and hazy, Merlin grunting and caressing, much more of the attentive lover than Arthur would have thought, given his demeanour.

He wasn't really too surprised then, the next morning, to find Merlin curled around him like a spare pillow, head nestled on Arthur's shoulder. The scent of liquor, sweat, and semen finally registered in Arthur's brain, making him grimace, but he was reluctant to move for waking Merlin. He looked... kind in sleep. He looked gentle and young and free. And it was lovely.

Then he groaned. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, not quite knowing how Merlin will react in the morning, aware that it will probably hurt. So he feigned sleep, every sense attuned to Merlin. Merlin's reactions.

Merlin's first words were a muttered stream of curses as he rolled away from Arthur. Then proceeded to fall on the floor. These curses were not so muttered.

Arthur rolled his eyes and couldn't help but roll himself over to peer down at Merlin on the floor.

"I hate you."

Arthur pouted.

"Don't even. You prick."

"Care for a shower?"

Merlin rubbed his hip and picked himself up, unbothered by his nudity. "That would be appreciated."

"Were you planning on just walking out?"

Merlin snorted. "A 'walk of shame?' I think not."

Hope fluttered deep in Arthur's heart. "Really?"
"That tree is close enough out your window that I could avoid it entirely."

Dropping his gaze, Arthur rolled away and gestured a hand towards his own loo. "Shower's in there. The navy towel is clean. Don't use my razor."

Merlin huffed. "Honestly."

"What?" Arthur asked without turning.

"You asked if I wanted sex, I said yes. Don't start acting like you expected a relationship out of this. And please don't cry."

"I'm not going to cry, Merlin. Don't be ridiculous," he drawled as he rolled over to face him. "Go shower. Are you hungry?"

His blue eyes wide, he blinked slowly. "Hungry?"

"Yes. As in do you ever eat? Is your stomach ever put to use?"

"I don't expect you to make me breakfast."

"Well maybe I want to," Arthur snapped.

"Fine," Merlin shrugged. "Whatever you have."

Stepping into a clean pair of boxers, Arthur hurried downstairs to scramble up some eggs, trying not to feel hurt and desperate. If Merlin didn't like him, then there wouldn't be any point. Except that didn't stop him from making the best sodding eggs ever and walking around in only his pants. The cursory glance of his house told him that Gwen was even dearer to his heart than he thought—if only he were straight—and she'd done clean-up. No doubt Lance roped into the whole mess.

He paused, his foot hovering above the first step and then shook his head, taking his steaming pan back to the kitchen and getting out two plates. "Breakfast is ready!" he shouted upstairs. Tucking into his, it was only a few minutes before Merlin sauntered down the staircase and slouched into a chair at the table.

"These are pretty mean eggs," he mumbled finally.

Again, the hope niggled in Arthur's heart and he smiled. "You're welcome."

"That wasn't a thank you."

"You could try one sometimes. Might get you a scone too."

That might have been a smothered laugh from Merlin, not that he could get the other man to admit it. "You're so absurd, you know that?"

"What part?"

"The part where you ask me to have sex with you!"

"And what does that say about you for accepting?"

"Experimentation."

"Right. Convenient." Arthur couldn't help the tart tones that crept into his voice.

Merlin shrugged. "Just being honest."

"Thanks."

"You never asked for special treatment with your offer of sex."

Flinging his eyes heavenwards, Arthur moaned, "Why didn't I fancy someone who fancied me back?"

Leaning casually on his elbow, Merlin examined Arthur. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Merlin." Arthur pinned him with his gaze. "Merlin, as you found out last night, we are brilliant together. You cannot deny it."

"I don't remember it."

"Liar," Arthur accused with just a little bit of dread.

Merlin grinned. "It's a bit hazy, but I remember some of it. You really make a lot of noise."

He flushed a little. "Maybe I just like your prick."

It was Merlin's turn to flush, and Arthur grinned at the expanse of emotion Merlin had tumbled through already this morning. Perhaps he wasn't as unaffected as he thought. "Though... in all honesty... why do you fancy me?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you like me?"

Arthur opened his mouth.

"I'm honestly curious," Merlin interrupted, leaning back in the chair, blue gaze quelling all of Arthur's more irrational replies.

Arthur swallowed. "Well. I..." He looked away and took a deep breath. "I think you're rather brilliant. You're smart. You're confident. Except you're really not. And you hate that I see it, but I do. Maybe that's why you don't like me. Aside for my father. Only I love you for it, because you push through that bit. You pretend you're not, but I think that you really just want someone to see through you. To see your secrets. To love you because you're not really this hateful and spiteful person you pretend to be. You put on like clothes and take off when you're alone in your room after the sun has set. I love your eyes because they're so blue. I want to catch my fingers in your hair and watch the shadows play over your cheeks as the sun rises and sets through the window. I love the way your hair curls around your ears that are rather adorable, despite being too big for your head. But I wouldn't ever tug on them. Because that would be cruel. I want to make your lips smile always. I saw it once. A real smile, and I think they're the best in the world. You should always be smiling. But only when you mean it. I want to see you smile and your eyes twinkle because you're really happy. And loved. And treated kindly because you're brilliant."

Merlin stared at him a moment over his mostly-finished plate of eggs. Then he shoved the chair backwards as he stood, the sound harsh in the sudden quiet, and he turned to stalk out Arthur's front door, leaving him with the slam of it thudding in his heart.

"Shit." He'd bolloxed that up properly, hadn't he.

For the next two weeks, Merlin avoided Arthur like a mere glimpse of him would give him the plague. That meant that he ditched history and didn't visit any of his usual haunts and took a different route home.

At first, Gwen, Lance, and Gwaine had teased him about it. Until he punched Lance too hard and made his arm numb. He felt bad but refused to apologise. Later, they turned sympathetic. But definitely not because Arthur was pining and stood suddenly with a hopeful expression on his face every time he saw a black mop of hair through the crowd. He protested each time one of his friends told him he was being pathetic. Until he stopped protesting. And just moped. But definitely not pouted.

He started when the note fluttered out of his locker at him Thursday afternoon. Picking it up, he read it, smiled, and tucked it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

Ducking his friends and avoiding Gwen at the end of Friday, Arthur loitered around the corner of the school underneath a beech that provided just enough shade from the afternoon sun.

Merlin skirted around the corner, glancing at him, and then shuffled over, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Arthur smiled. "'Lo."

Merlin said nothing in response, just scowled.

"What did you want to see me about?" He leaned against the tree in careful nonchalance.

Avoiding his eyes, Merlin cleared his throat, muttering some words.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you."

He flushed and then said quite clearly, "Did you really mean everything you were saying the other day?"

"Yes."

Merlin met his eyes in surprise. "Y-you did?"

"I did," Arthur assured him, watching his usual demeanour fall apart.

"You...fancy me."

"I do."

"And this isn't...odd. Or strange. Or..."

"Or anything else, Merlin. Call me nutters, but I do fancy you." He shrugged, waiting on knife's edge to see where this was headed. "I—" He broke off, unsure what to say next.

"And everything that I've done to you in the past?"

"Water under the bridge if you're willing to accept me."

"And if not?"

"Then I'll be hurt, we'll go our separate ways, and never speak again, I expect."

Merlin frowned, digesting this.

"But if we were... If were to start something."

Arthur softened. "I'd love to give it a chance, Merlin. See what we're like together. I think we can be great."

"Do you?" Merlin snapped back, a little more of his acerbic nature coming back.

"I do."

Merlin flinched.

"Do...do you want to give it a go?" Arthur asked, a little breathless. "Do you—"

"Shut up! Let me think a moment!" Merlin paced around in a small circle.

"Do you like me even, Merlin?"

The question made him pause and look Arthur over.

"It's a simple enough place to start. Do you like me at all?"

Surprised to see him flushing, Arthur sighed a bit when Merlin nodded. "You fight me."

"You're not always right," Arthur retorted.

This brought a hesitant smile to Merlin's lips. "Perhaps not." After another moment of awkward silence, Merlin sighed. "I suppose there's another way to test this."

"Oh?"

He moved closer, edging into Arthur's personal space, wrapping a hand quickly around the back of his neck and kissing him soundly.

Arthur sighed into the kiss, eyes sliding closed, leaning back against the tree. He raised tentative hands and spread them wide across Merlin's back only to feel the other shiver slightly. Then he pulled him close, deepening the kiss.

When Merlin finally pulled back, he looked well-tousled, lips kiss-bruised and lovely.

"Well?" Arthur demanded, his voice more of a sigh.

"I think..." Merlin said slowly, "that there might be something that could work here."

Arthur's cheeks hurt with the force of his smile. "Brilliant!"

Looking slightly sheepish, Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes. Well. Let's just keep it on the down-low for now, yes?"

"If you say so." Arthur reached for Merlin, pulling his slim hips against his own and kissing him again, tongue sweeping through his mouth.

Merlin had been just standing there, but then responded suddenly, pressing hard against Arthur and taking control of the kiss. He gripped Arthur's wrists, sliding his hands up his arms to cup his face. "Well then," he said when he pulled back for air. "I see this working very well."

"Y-yeah?" Arthur felt a little dazed. "That's great. Great. Brilliant."

Merlin kissed him again as if air were a commodity and then pulled back again and started walking away. "See you tomorrow, Arthur Pendragon!" he called with a wave over his shoulder.

Cursing the way his knees felt weak, Arthur groaned. This was going to unleash a whole new type of teasing and nettling that would, in all probability, drive Arthur crazier than before. He grinned again. "Nice arse, Merlin!"

With a two-fingered salute as he rounded the corner, his dark head poked back around the corner for a leering wink.

Shoving a hand into his pockets, Arthur shook his head and couldn't help but feel like he was walking a few inches above the ground. They were going to be great.