Chapter One

He'd sat down next to him approximately seventeen minutes and twenty eight seconds ago. But to Merlin, it felt like an age.

They'd exchanged pleasantries like they would with anyone else. Looked at each other with the curiosity they would show anyone else, but both felt the strangest urge to keep looking, even after their eyes had drawn themselves away.

"Merlin, could you pass me the Ammeter?" Arthur asked, gesturing to the clumpy black device to Merlin's left that looked as though it had been warped out of the 1960s. Merlin's ample ears burned red as he was acknowledged, but did as he was bid. "Thanks,"

'Damn it! he's got the Voltmeter', Merlin mentally cursed, glancing briefly over to an equally bulky-looking black thing in front of Arthur, who, upon seeing Merlin regarding it, handed it over.

"You're allowed to talk, y'know. I know my presence can be intimidating, what with me being possibly the most brilliant person on the planet," Arthur chuckled, mocking both himself and Merlin (Arthur didn't believe it for a second, in fact he could spend decades arguing the opposite), "but seriously, it's not like I'm a prince," he smiled warmly, his confidence seemed to be oozing into Merlin, because he felt better instantly.

"Sorry, I'm just no good with people," he lowered his head in a mixture of embarrassment and sheer relief, Arthur wasn't the bully he'd half expected.

"Oh, join the club!" he laughed, to Merlin it sounded like bells, velvet and bells. Shocking but perfectly matched to his golden exterior. "So, where are you from?"

"Ealdor originally, but I'm staying with my great uncle. Mum reckoned this place," he pointed loosley at the walls and ceiling, "would straighten me out," he quoted his mother's words, remembering her curious emphasis on the latter part, before realising what he'd said. Maybe Arthur wouldn't realise. But something in Arthur's frozen expression told him he had.

Neither boy moved, but then Arthur resumed chewing his Biro, and smiled. Stunningly. "Nice. But that's pretty far away right?"

Merlin nodded, One hundred and seventy nine miles to be precise.

―

Merlin reluctantly grabbed a tray, ready to be served lumpy mashed potato, inedible vegetarian sausages and a miniscule teaspoon of peas. He tried to convince himself the only reason he didn't want to eat was because he was watching his figure, but after looking down at himself, the nearly-visible-through-his-shirt ribs, collarbone that flashed shadows just above his t-shirt, and legs that couldn't hope to fill his trousers, it was clear that this would never be the case.

His eyes scanned the canteen, there must have been someone he could talk to. Arthur. Sure, that would be nice enough, but as if he had the guts. But the blond boy was sat on his own, well, on his own with some other people. No. His eyes were fixed with Arthur's for just a second too long. His feet crossed and one knee collapsed under the other, sending him and his mashed potato flying onto the table in front. He cussed under his breath.

This was not the way to start a first day.

He jumped up onto his feet again, hopeful that no one had noticed. But the clatter was still ringing in his own ears, so someone else must have...

Yes, everyone heard.

"Banana skin," he announced, heat creeping up his neck and seeping up to the very tips of his ears. It was a lie. But who was to know. He looked over to Arthur, questioning himself as he did so, why? And sure enough, the boy was looking back, a surprisingly soft smile playing in the corners of his lips, as if he had expected nothing less.

"Are you okay?" There was a girl. He'd only just realised she was trying to help, gathering together his tray and wiping up the spilt with several bottle green paper towels.

"Oh, no, it's fine, I've got it," he bent down, still feeling slightly ill with humiliation.

"No, I'm going to help. I know first days can be hard on people Merlin..."

"You know my name? How do you know my name?"

"Oh," she stammered, nerves, how reassuring, "well, I'm friends with the headmasters step daughter. I haven't been stalking you." She double-checked, "Not to say that I've been stalking anyone, or that I would ever stalk anyone. Oh, god, not saying that if I were to stalk anyone I wouldn't stalk you, because I'm sure you're a very nice person..."

Merlin was laughing, he just couldn't help himself. She was a nervous wreck! And she would definitely be the person he sat with this lunch.

"I'm Gwen, by the way,"

The two of them wandered over to the nearest empty table (aside from the one now strewn with lumpy mash), and set down the single tray of food Gwen had got for herself, but then offered to share with Merlin. Merlin had sworn she'd nearly decked the woman behind the canteen counter after she refused to give Merlin another plate, teeth gritted and a snarl just audible in her throat.

"I know it's a strange thing to ask, but, I'm trying to make conversation..." she started, face immediately turning pink, "not that you're a hard person to talk to, or that I don't want to, or that I find it difficult..."

"Gwen, get on with it," he prompted, smiling what, back in Ealdor, had become his signature boyish grin.

She nodded and smiled, "Tomorrow, what do you think about tomorrow?"

Merlin didn't understand, and shot her a look that said pretty much that, 'I don't understand',

"You don't know? Or have you forgotten?"

Merlin shook his head, he wasn't sure yet,

"The school trip to France," she narrowed her eyes, willing him to remember.

"Oh yes," he did remember, thankfully, otherwise tomorrow could have been a little embarrassing.

"Second day back is a little early though don't you think?"

"No, most people here have been here since Year 7, and plus, it's a bit like extending the summer holidays. Although, it does make all of today's lessons seem a bit pointless. I mean, by the time we get back, we'll have forgotten all of it," she shrugged, putting a full forkful of mash in her mouth.

"Well, you see..." he lifted his backpack onto the table and pulled out three A4 notebooks, Gwen stopped eating for a moment, "This is why we take notes," he grinned. Just behind Gwen he saw that ever-more-familiar blond mop turn in his direction, his smile was wiped off his face.

"What are you looking at?" she peered over her shoulder to see Arthur, whose confused but fascinated eyes were locked with Merlin's, "Or should I say who are you looking at?" she sniggered, "So you are gay then?"

Merlin's eyes snapped back to Gwen, how could she possibly know?

"I was sat behind you in Physics, and I don't miss a trick." she looked ridiculously proud of herself. "And just for the record, I don't blame you. Everyone can see how simply perfect Arthur Pendragon is,"

"Arthur Pendragon?" he retorted,

"Yes, he's the Headmasters son,"

Merlin swallowed. He should watch how much he looks at him then.

"A word of advice, Merlin, don't try anything, you're lucky he spoke to you in Physics. Usually, he speaks to no one, unless he has specially selected them, and no one, unless specially selected speaks to him. Well, apart from Morgana. Well, apart from me and Morgana, but that's just the privilege that comes with being his step-sisters best friend."

Merlin hardly noticed the dark-haired girl sit down beside him, he was too confused (and tired) to concentrate on anything for too long. Arthur had been fine talking to him earlier, in fact, Arthur had initiated the conversation. If Arthur was how Gwen said he was, then why would he have done that? Specially selected. Perhaps he was just being kind, as it was Merlin's first day, perhaps he wants a friend and thought that someone who knew nothing of the school, the people and the his usual reaction to people would prove the most acceptable candidate. Whatever it was, he felt that privilege Gwen had felt, to know that there were some people in this school who had probably never spoken to Arthur, but he had, and it had been Arthur's choice, on his first day, how could he not feel a sense of smothered euphoria. Especially because Arthur looked as though he may have been carved out of stone by a king's finest artist. Chiselled, and perfected so the light played with every plane of his face, every strand of his hair, the sparkling blue of his eyes, the slight wetness around his lips where he had just licked them... Shut up.

"Morgana," his head spun around to meet another set of blue eyes, only these belonged to a girl and had nowhere near the same affect. He shook her hand as he had Arthur's, as he had Gwen's. Finding tedium in the repetition. So this was Arthur's step-sister, it had to be. But there were few similarities between the two, her hair was cocoa brown, his was golden blond, her face was soft, whilst his was angular and defined. But both were impeccable, and he felt inadequate sat so near to both of them.

―

He'd been watching Merlin for the past half hour, interested in how quickly he'd managed to find himself with friends. Annoyed by how that time period differed to his own. But he couldn't help it. Looking. There was so much to see. And Merlin had made himself so apparent, so soon.

There had been no banana skin, everyone had seen that. And Arthur wondered if they'd forgiven him for the same reason that Arthur had, deciding not to back him up against the wall and pelt him with peas, whilst the dining room looked on in horror or thrill. He was just so irresistibly endearing. That black lock of hair that flopped across his forehead, and those piercing blue eyes, that had moments previous locked with Arthurs and threatened to tear away everything Arthur's father had taught him in mere seconds, and those huge, fantastic ears. He couldn't look away even if his eyes had been poked out with a fork. A fork on fire, even.

Lancelot nudged him, asking what he was looking at, and without moving his eyes he replied, 'nothing'. But lance was not as stupid as Arthur would have liked. He peered around Owain's head at the thin, lanky dark-haired boy, then back at Arthur, who appeared to have forgotten to breathe.

It was there, in all its glory. And Lancelot could see it. He pushed the thought aside. He must not get involved. The very idea of Arthur fancying a boy was utterly ridiculous... but very real.