phys_nut

Every Version of You Masterpost

phys_nut — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 08:39:13 GMT

Title: Every Version of You

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Bradley/Colin, hints of Katie/Eoin

Warnings: Smut (guy-on-guy sexy times, though I should probably warn for how badly it’s written…), some angst, lots of FEELZ

Word Count: 17,538

Summary: Bradley ends up being sent to a parallel universe after a spell during filming actually works. When the guys get him back, Colin notices there’s something wrong, and he’s determined to find out what happened.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bradley, Colin, or any of the Merlin cast and crew, nor do I know any of them. This is completely made up and just a bit of fun!

Author’s Note: First of all, a MASSIVE thank you to my beta inspiredlife, she did a fantastic job at fixing my mistakes and reassuring me that I had done a decent job. This story would not be half as understandable without her. To frellen_rocks my friend and cheerleader, who encouraged me to sign up in the first place and listened to me rant on and on about the plot and my ideas – thanks hun!! A big cheers to my artist emerish who’s done a fabulous job on the art work – I absolutely love it!! And finally, a huge thanks to the mods who organised this, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed taking part! :D

Link to Art: Pretties!!

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Every Version of You (Part 3)

phys_nut — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 08:32:18 GMT

A few days later Bradley felt he had himself under control enough that he would be able to face Colin again. They would never be close friends again… but he should be able to be around the other man, possibly have a civil conversation with him. That was, if Colin would be able to look at him without revulsion in his eyes. Bradley sighed as he shrugged on a hoodie and drew himself up, using Arthur as a wall to protect his still raw and fragile emotions. The king of Camelot wouldn’t let something like this stop him from running the kingdom and Bradley wasn’t going to let it keep him from work any longer. He’d begged off filming, claiming post-traumatic-stress had suddenly hit him from his time in the other universe, and Julian had immediately acquiesced, but there was only so long before they had to start shooting again, and Bradley would rather go back on his own terms.

He took one more deep breath, opened his door and nearly fell over Colin who was sitting outside.

“I, uh… I was going to knock,” Colin said lamely, scrambling to his feet, eyes fixed firmly on his hands.

“Hence the sitting on the floor,” Bradley said automatically.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Colin’s lips, before he grew sombre and said, just like before, “We’re talking,” only this time it was in a weak and exhausted tone. “I mean, we need to talk. I need to talk. I need you to talk to me.”

Bradley stared long and hard at Colin, who fidgeted and continued to avoid eye contact. He didn’t know how much more his heart could take, but the (very small) logical part of him said that if they managed to clear the air somewhat and redefine their relationship, then it would make settling back into a work routine easier. He was too exhausted to fight this, so he stepped to the side, watched Colin walk in and then closed the door.

The two men stood in silence, Colin shuffling agitatedly and Bradley widening his stance and crossing his arms, face impassive. After another few moments Bradley said, rather harshly, “You said you needed to talk, so talk.”

Colin startled, moved his mouth soundlessly and finally said, “I… about freaking out…” before he went mute once again.

“I have to go,” Bradley said flatly, turning away.

“No Bradley, wait!” Colin called desperately, finally looking at him. “I’m sorry for freaking out so badly, but can you blame me? What if the situation were reversed, if I had gone to another universe and you found out I’d slept with the Bradley there? How would you feel?”

Bradley thought of the Colin he’d left, who was probably with the Bradley in his world, getting to know him, kissing him, loving him, and his stomach knotted in a mixture of jealousy and grief. But then he envisioned what Colin had said – this Colin, his Colin, with another Bradley, and the feeling was a hundred times worse.

“Hurt,” he blurted, “and jealous.”

He caught Colin’s eye and they shared a look of understanding. The atmosphere warmed and relaxed slightly and Bradley walked over to his bed and plopped down with a sigh.

“I’m not sorry I was in a relationship with him,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily, “but I am sorry you’re so hurt.”

“Thanks,” Colin replied softly, sitting beside him. “I’m sorry you lost something that obviously meant a lot to you.”

“Cheers, and I’m sorry for avoiding you and being a bit of a twat,” Bradley said sincerely. “I just… I needed time to clear my head.”

Colin hummed and they sat in a much more relaxed silence, before he suddenly said, “Tell me about him.”

“You want to know about him?” Bradley asked sceptically.

“I do,” Colin replied determinedly.

Bradley couldn’t help but smile, remembering how the other Colin had asked him the same thing…

*****

“Tell me about your Colin,” Colin said suddenly, one evening when they were curled up on the couch sharing the day’s newspaper.

“You’re my Colin,” Bradley replied immediately, turning his head to kiss the underside of Colin’s jaw.

Colin chuckled and kissed Bradley’s temple. “You know what I mean. Tell me about the Colin in your universe.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything – what he’s like, how you met, how you got to know each other and became friends.”

“Really?” Bradley asked in surprise, tilting his head back to look Colin in the eye.

Colin smiled warmly and replied, “Really.”

And so Bradley told him a story of non-understandable accents, attuning to a darker sense of humour, pulling pranks, making video diaries, popping cheekbones, road trips, all-night talks, drinking contests, terrible French, woeful karaoke, swordplay and silent messages during interviews. He told Colin the story of the greatest friendship he’d ever experienced, and Colin held him close, smiled and listened.

*****

“He was really like you,” Bradley told Colin, after he’d told him what had happened from the moment he’d arrived in the parallel universe to the moment he’d ended up in Colin’s flat, “only more…open. He wasn’t so worried about what people thought of him and he seemed more comfortable with himself. That could have been just how he was in private or around me though,” Bradley added ruefully. “But… it reminded me of you a little, how you get when you’re drunk or so happy you forget there’s a judgemental public out there somewhere, and you relax. Spending time with him was like spending time with you when we hide away and ignore the rest of the world. I think that’s why…” he stopped and swallowed thickly before continuing. “That’s why it was so easy to fall for him. That’s why it would be so easy to fall for all of them, all those Colins in all those parallel universes – they’re just variations of you.”

Bradley flushed as he finished, quickly swiping at his eyes as he stared at his hands and willed himself to get it under wraps, it would get easier someday, and at least Colin didn’t hate him and was willing to talk to him. He glanced at Colin and did a double take when he saw Colin was looking at him, really looking at him, like he was seeing him for the first time, like he was both the more wonderful and most terrifying thing Colin had ever seen. Something akin to hope dared to rise in his chest as Colin hesitantly took his hand and looked into his eyes.

“I’ve always been terrified of what I am… of who I am,” Colin said in a small, shaky voice. “I told my mam, and it… it didn’t go so well.”

Bradley gave his hand a squeeze, smiling understandingly. Colin smiled back, turned his hand to lace their fingers together (and Bradley’s breath absolutely did not stutter), and kept talking.

“After that, I couldn’t stand the thought of what might happen if I admitted it to anyone, so I just pushed it away. Ignored it. Acting was one thing, it was easy, fake, just pretend… but if it was real, if I said it out loud, then I’d have to deal with the consequences. Up until Merlin it was easy. I’m rarely attracted to anyone and no one’s ever really gotten me… until Merlin. Until you, Bradley,” he said seriously, and Bradley’s breathing went a little haywire, while the hope in his chest rose victorious.

“I started Merlin, and I met you,” Colin’s voice started to waver, “and I tried and tried so hard, but it’s been getting more and more difficult to deny, to ignore, and with what’s happened with you and… Bradley I… I’m gay,” he gasped out, his body shaking.

Bradley pulled him into a hug, rocking slightly, while Colin shook and clutched at his shoulders. Bradley carded his hand through Colin’s hair, briefly placed his lips on the crown of his head, and then pulled up and said, “I know it’s difficult, and I know you’re scared, but in the end, it’ll be a massive weight off your shoulders if you’re honest about it. Your friends love you Colin, they won’t care, and your fans love you too. Plus most of them think you’re gay for me anyway,” he couldn’t help but joke.

Colin snorted with laughter and pulled back with a quiet, “Cheers.”

He shuffled back a bit and brought his knees up, curling his arms around them, but his limbs were loose and relaxed, so Bradley wasn’t too worried.

Bradley bit his lip, took a deep breath and said firmly, “I’m going to make an official statement to the press. My family already know…and I’m tired of hiding and pretending.”

“That’s really brave of you,” Colin said in an awed tone, then added, “I don’t… I’m not ready.”

“No reason you should be,” Bradley replied gently. “You should take all the time you need, it’s a big decision.”

Colin nodded, sniffed and flashed him a heartbreakingly grateful smile. Bradley took in his red-rimmed eyes and fragile air, and made a decision he knew he would never regret no matter how hurt he got.

“Colin, can we please go back to being friends?”

Colin froze, eyes wide, before he scrambled over to Bradley, pulling him into a crushing hug. “Yes, yes, of course Bradley,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too mate,” Bradley replied quietly, hugging him back.

Colin needed this, needed friendship and support. That, and not Bradley’s quietly pining heart, was what was important.

***

A few weeks later, Bradley was out with a few members of the Merlin cast, having a mini-celebration of sorts for the positive feedback Bradley had gotten since his official coming out. (There had been quite a bit of negative feedback naturally, but Bradley was steadfastly ignoring it in favour of the outpouring of love from his fans and friends). He’d already given a few interviews and had made a video for The Trevor Project, but there were still a slew of interviews and statements to make, occasions to attend, and Bradley was looking forward to it, inspired and encouraged by what his parallel universe self had done.

That morning, Bradley had received a massive package from his fan club, full of gay pride memorabilia, and best of all, stacks of cards full of encouraging and supportive messages. Katie had immediately declared that they were going out to the pub to celebrate (she had decided that she was his official fag hag, and though Bradley had protested and made fun of her “weirdo obsession,” he secretly loved and adored her for it). So Bradley found himself in a booth, sandwiched between Katie and Colin as usual, a drink in hand and several more lined up for him.

He took a long gulp of his drink, and relaxed even further into his seat, laughing at the banter between Katie and Eoin and guiltily enjoying the feeling of Colin pressed up against him. The last few weeks had been somewhat of an emotional rollercoaster but Bradley felt like he was slowly regaining his balance. He and Colin were nowhere near as close as they had been before Bradley went to the parallel universe but they were taking tentative steps towards getting back there. They had been rehearsing one on one, had pulled a few successful pranks, and were functioning easily in a group setting. They had yet to spend any real quality time together, nor had they had an in-depth conversation since the one they’d had when they’d agreed to be friends again, and Bradley felt that it was mostly down to the fact that neither of them wanted to fuck this up. They wanted to be friends, wanted to be the friends they had once been, but they were both so terrified of doing or saying something that would mess it up indefinitely that they couldn’t make the final leap. Bradley knew that a slight amount of hesitation on his part was also due to the fact that he was still pining a little (a lot) for what he’d once had. In terms of the bigger picture though, he was so much happier to have Colin in his life than not at all, so he knew that eventually the pining would fade and he would be able to devote himself fully to this friendship.

Right now though, he wanted to sit back, drink until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and allow himself to enjoy the life that he had been blessed with, because he knew that there was a Bradley out there who didn’t know all these people and how much they brought to his life.

“Oh my God I love this song!” Katie cheered, throwing her hands up in the air. “Let’s dance, bitches!”

“Cheers, but there are a number of drinks with my name on them, so I’m going to give it a miss,” Bradley chuckled, feeling far too loose and relaxed to want to move.

“Spoilsport,” Katie scoffed affectionately. “Colin?” She asked, giving him a measured look.

“Katie,” Colin replied, throwing her look right back at her.

“Ugh fine, enjoy your sitting,” Katie sighed exasperatedly. “All right, come on the rest of you!”

Everyone bar Bradley and Colin headed off to the dance floor and the two men sat in a comfortable silence.

“So, how are you feeling?” Colin asked a moment later. “About the whole…thing,” he finished awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and giving a rueful smile.

“Good.” Bradley smiled in reply, “I mean, I did go into it knowing that it wouldn’t be a complete disaster, but it’s gone better than expected.”

“Yeah, everyone’s been taking it really well,” Colin said, and bit his bottom lip before quickly licking it.

Bradley tried his best not to stare, failed and then attempted to cover it up by taking a large drink before he said, “Yeah, I think Katie would flail anyone who didn’t.”

Colin threw his head back laughing and when he glanced at Bradley, he looked so happy, so relaxed and alive that Bradley forgot which universe he was in, forgot that he’d barely gotten back to being friends with this Colin. He leaned in, cupped Colin’s jaw and kissed him, sweetly and tenderly, just as he’d imagined doing so many times. Colin jerked and stiffened, and it suddenly hit Bradley where he was and who he was kissing.

He quickly pulled back, immediately stuttering out an apology. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, shit Colin I swear this won’t happen again-“

He was silenced as Colin grabbed him by his neck, his eyes desperate. “No no, it’s all right, I – Bradley, I- “ The whole time Colin was rambling, his hands were wandering down Bradley’s arms and then up his neck and into his hair, and his eyes were glued to Bradley’s mouth.

Bradley nervously licked his lips, intending to ask Colin what was happening, and suddenly Colin was kissing him, a little sloppily, but more passionately than anyone had ever kissed him before. Bradley groaned and reached for Colin, pulling the other man against him as best he could. The two lost themselves in their kiss, hands running eagerly over each other’s torsos. Colin’s head fell back with a groan as Bradley rucked up his t-shirt, needing to touch his skin, and Bradley immediately latched onto his neck, nibbling and sucking.

“Bradley, I – I want…” Colin gasped, clutching at Bradley’s hair.

“Yeah?” Bradley asked, nearly groaning at the sight of Colin’s flushed cheeks, swollen lips and bedroom eyes.

“Can we… go somewhere else? Somewhere with a bed?” Colin asked, making sure Bradley knew where this was going.

Bradley gulped and nodded quickly. The two men quickly grabbed their coats and left, Bradley shooting a quick text off to Katie to tell her that they were both tired and going to bed (In the morning he would get a text from her filled with all sorts of dirty suggestions about how they could keep each other awake, and Bradley would reply with a guilt-inducing text about her sullying Colin’s virtue). It wasn’t long until they were back at the hotel, both brimming with nerves and desire.

The moment they were in the elevator and the door closed, they were on each other, kissing desperately, Bradley pinning Colin against a wall and shoving his thigh against his crotch, causing Colin to throw his head back with a wild keen. Colin pulled Bradley flush against him and Bradley moaned loudly as their hips rutted fervently against each other.

“So, my place or yours?” Bradley blurted, and immediately slapped a palm over his face.

Colin stuffed his face against Bradley’s neck and laughed, and that was all that was needed for the last of their nerves to drain away as they relaxed against each other.

Colin kissed him sweetly and then said, “Yours would be best I think. I seem to remember Eoin giving you, um, supplies?”

Bradley nodded and turned slightly red as he remembered the condoms and lube Eoin had given him with a lecherous grin (he and Katie deserved each other honestly) as a coming out present, but he guessed he should be happy about it now.

The elevator doors opened and they manhandled each other down the hallway, tumbling into Bradley’s room once he got it unlocked. Bradley made sure the door was locked and then he and Colin were rushing to the bed, pulling their clothes off until at last they were naked and staring at each other. Bradley felt exposed under Colin’s awed gaze, and so lay down on the bed, pulling Colin on top of him and spreading his legs to cradle Colin between them. Colin rocked his hips down and Bradley bucked up, and the two men groaned as their erections slide against each other. Colin continued to rock against him and leaned down to kiss him deeply for a few moments before he pulled back and stilled. Bradley wanted to moan in protest, but stopped when he saw Colin was staring down at him with a look in his eye Bradley had thought he’d never see.

“I love you,” Colin said softly. “I’m completely terrified, but, I do. I want you, and this, and … everything. I love you, Bradley.”

Bradley smiled so wide his cheeks hurt and his heart felt like it was going to burst from how happy he was right now. He reached up to stroke Colin’s cheek, delighted when the other man nuzzled against his palm.

“I love you too Colin,” he said, and his heart skipped a beat at the smile Colin gave him.

They fell back into each other, and though Bradley wanted to touch and taste Colin everywhere, he knew he wouldn’t last long, and more than anything, he ached to have Colin inside him, to fully connect with this man. He scrabbled to open his bedside drawer and pulled out the lube and condoms. Colin’s eyes widened when he saw them, but Bradley felt his dick twitch, so he was fairly certain that he was okay with this.

“What, um, what way do you want to do this?” Colin asked unsurely.

“Just like this,” Bradley breathed, lifting his hips so that Colin’s dick brushed against the cleft of his arse.

Colin gulped and then kissed him fiercely, breathing out, “Yes,” and, “Fuck,” in between the press of their lips and slide of their tongues.

“Colin, have you ever?” Bradley trailed off, not wanting to upset the other man, but needing to know how he was supposed to handle this.

“Um, I’ve fooled around a few times when I was drunk in university, but I’ve never done anything like this,” Colin admitted, his voice coloured with embarrassment as he hung his head.

Bradley reached up and raised Colin’s head so they’re looking into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said in a sincere and grateful tone and Colin smiled, relieved.

They kissed, and then Colin said, “So, what do I do? I mean, oh God, I know you need to be prepared, but do I? Do you?” He trailed off helplessly.

“Either or both,” Bradley told him, rubbing his back soothingly, “it depends on what you prefer. How about I start and you can join in if you’d like?”

“Yeah,” Colin choked out. “That’d … that’d be good.”

Bradley grabbed a pillow and put it under his hips, spreading his legs while Colin scooted back and watched with wide, hungry eyes. He uncapped the lube, slicked his fingers, tossed the tube by Colin, then reached down and circled a finger around his entrance before pushing it all the way in, gasping. He hadn’t done this since he’d come back, and there was a bit of a stretch but it was pleasurable. He slid his fingers in and out a few times before he added another finger, scissoring and stretching himself, relishing the slight burn and then moaning obscenely when he crooked his fingers and hit his prostate. This spurred Colin into action, and he squeezed lube over his fingers, slicking them before shuffling forward. He placed one hand on Bradley’s hip and when Bradley nodded, slowly pushed his finger in alongside Bradley’s. Bradley’s hips bucked and he groaned at how good it feels, having Colin be here with him, touching him like this. Colin’s hand tightened its hold on his hip and his finger sped up as it thrust in and out of him, before he suddenly added another one, twisting and pushing until he was repeatedly jabbing Bradley’s prostate and Bradley was arching off the bed with a high-pitched whine.

“Please, please, oh fuck Colin, I’m not – I need – “ he babbled.

Colin nodded and quickly pulled his fingers out along with Bradley, then reached for the condom. He rolled it on his erection, covered it in lube and then leaned over Bradley, kissing him as he guided himself in and pushed past the ring of muscles slowly. He continued to push in, pausing every now and then, scattering kisses over Bradley’s face, neck and chest while Bradley clutched at his back and drew his knees up to his chest, allowing Colin to go even deeper until he bottomed out, his thighs resting snugly against Bradley’s arse. Colin was panting harshly, his hands running up and down Bradley’s legs and sides. Bradley shifted, drew one leg up over Colin’s shoulder, and the other around his waist, and Colin pulled the pillow out from beneath Bradley, curling his knees under in its place so that the two of them were curled tightly around each other. They kissed, breaking it once Colin started to move, small minute thrusts that quickly built into more. Bradley was lost in a whirlwind of sensations: Colin’s dick in his arse, gliding against his prostate, Colin’s stomach rubbing against his cock, Colin’s lips against his neck. He was overwhelmed, on the verge of climax, but didn’t want to fall over, not yet, not without Colin, so he bit down on Colin’s shoulder and clenched his arse muscles, hanging on as Colin sped up his thrusts with a keen. Colin’s thrusts started to lose their rhythm and he was moaning continuously as he raked his nails down Bradley’s sides. Bradley moved his hips as best he could, meeting Colin thrust for thrust and suddenly lost it. His whole body jerked and shook, and he fairly screamed as his orgasm hit him. He continued to ride the high as Colin thrust wildly into him, and shuddered as Colin keened and jerked through his own orgasm. The two men held each other through the aftershocks, before Bradley shifted his legs with a slightly pained groan, and Colin pulled out, pulled off the condom and rolled off the bed to dispose of it. He headed into the bathroom while Bradley stretched, relishing how relaxed, stated and sore in the best possible way, he felt. Colin returned after a moment with a damp face cloth, cleaned them both, tossed it to the side and then curled up beside Bradley, kissing him as he threw a leg over Bradley’s, and an arm across his chest. Bradley carded his hands through Colin’s hair and poured every ounce of love and devotion he had into it. Their kisses deepened, then lengthened, then softened and eventually wound down into small pecks, before they settled down with contented sighs.

Bradley could feel his eyes starting to droop, when Colin said anxiously, “Do we have to tell people about us?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Bradley replied, pressing a kiss to Colin’s temple.

“But, it’s not… I want to be with you,” Colin said in a rushed whisper. “I really do, and I want to be your boyfriend, I just… Can we keep it between us for now?”

“Of course,” Bradley replied reassuringly. “We won’t tell anyone until you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Colin said gratefully.

He kissed Bradley’s cheek, yawned and then said in a sad, sleepy voice, “I’m sorry I’m not as brave as you,” before he drifted off.

His heart bursting with love and empathy for Colin, Bradley wrapped his arms around him, held him tight and whispered against his hair, “you are far braver than you think.”

***

“I want to start telling people,” Colin declared a few weeks later when they were lying together.

“Yeah?” Bradley asked, but he wasn’t really surprised.

The best thing about their new relationship had been that the friendship, which they had been so tentative about restoring, had come flooding back in the wake of their new-found intimacy. Everyone had commented on how well they were getting along again, and how happy they were, and Bradley and Colin could only agree. However, as their relationship had progressed in secret, outwardly they had been getting very friendly, verging on flirty with each other. Bradley had begun to think that they would need to cool off before anyone suspected anything, but he was pleasantly surprised that Colin wanted to choose this option.

“Yeah,” Colin said firmly, his hand finding Bradley’s and linking their fingers together. “Not like officially or to the public or anything, but to our friends, maybe… maybe our families.”

“You want to meet my family?” Bradley asked in a delighted voice.

“Someday yes,” Colin replied, his face red, but his smile bright and happy, “and I’d like you to meet mine.”

Bradley kissed him because he absolutely had to, and then said, “I’d like that. So, how are we going to tell the guys?”

Colin thought for a moment, then grinned slyly and said, “What do you think of kissing during filming?”

Bradley burst out laughing. “I think Katie would enjoy it far too much, and would somehow get her hands on the recording of it to use as blackmail.”

“Hmm, that is true…I guess we just tell them at some point.”

In the end, they decided to tell only their close friends (i.e. Katie, Angel, Tony, Richard, Eoin, Rupert, Ade and Tom), the ones they spent most of their time with, so they wouldn’t have to watch themselves around them anymore. They sat them down in Bradley’s room, linked hands and then told them about their relationship. Everyone’s initial reaction was along the lines of, “Wait, Colin’s gay?!” but then Katie was cheering and hugging them, and the rest of them were giving them their congratulations and well-wishes. Katie immediately declared a celebratory pub trip was in order and hustled everyone out of the hotel. This time, Bradley and Colin did get up and dance with everyone, brushing against each other and sending each other flirty smiles, the promise of later in their eyes. A few days later, Eoin gave them a package with a filthy grin and Bradley and Colin opened it to find even more lube and condoms, nipple clamps, a cock ring and a pair of handcuffs. Both men turned bright red, but after glancing at each other, smiled and locked themselves away to try out their new toys.

Emboldened by the support of their friends, Colin slowly opened up to the other members of the cast and crew and was met with surprised, but overall positive feedback (Bradley personally believed that even if they did have a problem they’d never say it to his face. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that everyone loved Colin). Finally, Colin plucked up the courage to ring his brother and tell him. Bradley sat next to him, flicking through a book and paying no attention to his murmuring, but burst into silent laughter when Colin suddenly yelled, “What do you mean you knew?!”

All in all, it went rather swimmingly in Bradley’s opinion, though Colin was still hesitant about coming out to the media.

“I just don’t feel ready yet,” he apologised. “I know it went well for you, but…”

“You’ve done so much already Colin,” Bradley told him, kissing him softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Colin blushed and kissed him back. “Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I want to, I really do. Someday I will, I promise.”

“And I promise I will be right by your side when you do,” Bradley replied lovingly.

***

“Are you sure about this?” Bradley asked Coin, who was bouncing on his feet.

Colin flashed him a nervous smile and nodded, before swallowing thickly. Bradley immediately pulled Colin to him, and the other man folded against him with a happy sigh. They’d been together a year, but Bradley still felt a happy tingle whenever he and Colin touched.

“If you’re not one hundred percent sure about this I’ll just go out there on my own and no one will be any wiser.”

“No no, I’m completely positive I want to do this, I’m just… a little nervous,” Colin replied, giving Bradley a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s understandable,” Bradley chuckled, then added teasingly, “You do realise that you’re going to make the internet explode. All those fangirls will be driven into a frenzy.”

“Whisht⁽¹⁾ you,” Colin said in a mock scolding tone, before giving him a quick kiss.

“Mister James? You’re on now,” a runner nearby told him, holding a microphone towards him.

“Okay cheers,” Bradley said, taking the microphone off him.

He gave Colin one last kiss and then climbed the steps to the side of the stage, upon which the announcer was saying, “and now boys and girls, please welcome to the stage, the hunky heart-throb who knows how to wield a sword – BRADLEY JAMES!”

Bradley checked his microphone was on and ran out on to the stage, shouting, “Hello London Pride!” while the crowd shouted, clapped and cheered. This was their plan; Bradley would go out on stage and do his bit and whenever Colin felt ready, he would join Bradley on the stage.

He knew the instant his boyfriend appeared on stage because the cheers swelled massively, and many people started screaming and chanting Colin’s name. Bradley turned and smiled at Colin, who was blushing, but smiling and waving enthusiastically at the crowd. When the cheering had died down, Bradley said, “Hello everyone, I’m Bradley James and as most of you know, I’m gay.”

The crowd cheered again and Bradley smiled, feeling enveloped in warmth and satisfaction, and above all, love. He turned to look at Colin, and the crowd was quickly silent as Coin raised his microphone.

There was a palpable vibration running through the crowd, an air of expectation and excitement. Colin looked around nervously, before he suddenly grabbed Bradley’s hand. There was a single shriek from within the crowd, which was quickly cut off, and several people in the front looked like they were about to faint.

‘Internet exploding,’ Bradley mouthed at Colin, who laughed, and then raised the microphone to his lips, much more confident this time.

“Hello everyone, I’m Colin Morgan, and I think it’s time you all knew that I’m gay.”

AND THE SHRIEKS OF FANGIRLS COULD BE HEARD THE WORLD OVER, AND THE INTERNET DID IN FACT EXPLODE.

(1) Whisht you = irish saying for ‘be quiet’

Every Version of You (Part 2)

phys_nut — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 08:30:47 GMT

A wave of anger still rolling over him, Colin marched up to Bradley’s trailer, where he knew the other man was resting until his scenes later on. He pounded on the door and crossed his arms, holding desperately onto the feelings that brought him this far. He would not be sent away, he would not be sent away, he would not –

The door opened and Bradley poked his head out, the inquisitive look on his face fading into a carefully blank one once he saw Colin.

“’Lo there mate,” he said genially, leaning casually against the trailer door.

“We’re talking. Right now.” He stated tersely. He stated, he did not ask, because they were talking and Colin was getting answers.

Bradley stared at him a moment before he wordlessly stepped back in to the trailer. Colin followed him inside and turned to shut the door. He took a deep breath and then turned to face Bradley, who stared at a point over Colin’s shoulder.

This only served to strengthen his resolve and he steeled himself as he said, “What happened Bradley?” internally wincing at the desperate edge to his voice.

“What do you mean?” Bradley asked neutrally.

“I talked to Katie and Angel,” Colin snapped. “You stayed with me – him – the other Colin. You stayed with him for three weeks, and now you won’t even look me in the eye let alone talk to me.”

At this, Bradley looked at Colin in shock, and Colin hated how choked up he sounded as he said, “What happened Bradley? Did he do something? Say something?”

“No, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything wrong,” Bradley said hastily.

“Was he an asshole?”

“No! God, Colin, of course not, he’s you.”

“But he’s not,” Colin said desperately, wanting to make sure that Bradley knew it wasn’t his fault. That whatever the other Colin did, he would never do to Bradley. “Whatever it is he said or did that made you have a problem with me, you have to know that I’m not him.”

“I know you’re not him that’s the p-“ Bradley snapped before cutting himself off. A pained look passed over his face and he audibly swallowed before saying firmly and neutrally, “He was perfectly kind and welcoming, and we actually got on well. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit distant Colin, I’ve just been busy settling back down.”

Bradley smiled, a tired, fake smile, and something in Colin snapped. He swallowed the urge to roar and punch Bradley’s stupid fucking face in, because Bradley was lying to him, lyinglyinglyingLYING-

“That’s bullshit,” he spat out. “You’re lying to me Bradley. You’re perfectly fine with everyone else except for me. Something happened with the other Colin, and I want to know what.”

“Nothing happened-“

“Liar! You fucking liar!”

“Colin please,” Bradley sighed, and Colin could see that his lip was quivering and his eyes were watering, but he didn’t care, wouldn’t let himself care because Bradley had been punishing him for something he didn’t do, and he wanted to know what.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me!” He yelled, pushing Bradley, trying to vent the white-hot anger pumping through his veins.

“Col-“

“Tell me!” Another push.

“But-“

“No, no more lies!” Another.

“Okay fine, just give me a mo-“

“Oh for fuck sake Bradley-“

“I’M GAY!” Bradley bellowed, shoving Colin back, over and over again, until he had Colin pinned against the trailer door, and was grabbing him by the shoulders. “I’m gay, and he’s gay and we-“

He stopped, his eyes widening as he realised what he’d just said. He took a step and stumbled back a few more, while Colin stared at him, his expression turning horrified as he realised just what it was Bradley had revealed.

“Oh my God,” he whispered shakily, as his knees gave out and he sunk to the floor.

*****

Bradley did end up freaking out two days later, when he woke up after a dream about filming a scene with Colin. He glanced at the clock and jumped up with a shocked, “Shit, I’m late!”

It didn’t help that as he looked around the room, suddenly realising he wasn’t in the hotel, he spotted both his costume, which was draped over the back of a chair, and Colin, who was in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Where? Oh. OH.” Bradley suddenly remembered everything that had happened, where he was, where he was stuck. It hit him like a tonne of bricks and he physically crumpled into a heap on the bed as he dropped his head in his hands and moaned with grief.

“Bradley?” Colin called in concern, moving out of the kitchen and over to the bed.

“Oh my God I’m stuck in a parallel universe,” Bradley moaned. “I’ll never be able to go home, or see my friends or go to work-“

He got completely overwhelmed at this point and curled further in on himself, absolutely not crying.

He jumped when he felt two arms wrap themselves securely around him, but quickly relaxed and leaned against Colin who murmured, “It’s okay Bradley, just let it out.”

He continued to murmur nonsensical soothing things and rubbed his hands up and down Bradley’s arms and back as Bradley cried out all the stress, confusion and terror that had been building up in his system.

“If there was a way to get you here, then there’s a way to get you back home.”

“But what if there isn’t?” Bradley asked, voice muffled against Colin’s side where he’d buried his head.

“Then we’ll figure out how to build you a life in this world,” Colin said reassuringly, then added mischievously, “I don’t suppose Bradley James would believe he had a long-lost twin brother?”

Bradley snorted, slowly pulled his head up and then replied in a similar tone, “I’ve always liked the name Arthur…”

The two men laughed, and Bradley felt better and more ready to deal with his situation.

“And if that doesn’t work out then I suppose I could put you up here for the rest of our lives,” Colin teased.

“That would be too much of a hardship.” Bradley grinned in return.

Colin chuckled, gave Bradley a squeeze and then stood with a, “Breakfast’s ready. You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten.”

Bradley hummed in agreement and stood to join him.

For all the ways that this Colin was like the one in his world, he was also very different. This Colin was much more relaxed and at ease with himself and those around him, and was much more giving with his affections, something that had taken Bradley a while to get used to. Of course this could be just how he was around Bradley, or in private; Bradley was reminded of a few times back in his world, when he and Colin would hole themselves up in one of their hotel rooms and get tipsy, and Colin would show shades of this relaxed behaviour. Then, it had seemed rather endearing, but now, seeing the full effect from this Colin was awe-inspiring, and slightly heart-breaking when Bradley thought of how his Colin must feel held back or not comfortable enough with himself.

There was also this… thing between this Colin and Bradley, in the way that they looked at and brushed against each other, an almost seductive flirtation that turned Bradley’s lower body molten. It stayed below the surface, simmering between them, and Bradley itched to give in to what they both wanted. The truth was that, for as long as he’d wanted Colin as more than just a friend, he’d been telling himself that it was wrong to think of it and ignore the crazy feelings he had. He also felt vaguely guilty about thinking of doing anything with another Colin, while wanting to take what this Colin was willing to give, something the Colin in his universe would never be willing to give. He wanted to try it with Colin, but worried about what would happen if he found a way back to his world. It was a huge tangled mess of thoughts and emotion, but it boiled down to one simple thing: Bradley had wanted Colin for a long time and he was willing to take any opportunity to even get a taste of what it would be like. It was simply a matter of finding the right moment to try.

Colin and Bradley had established a sort of routine in the two days Bradley had been staying there: they woke up when it suited them, usually around the same time, Colin cooked breakfast (generally involving eggs and toast), they ate and chatted a bit, then cleaned up together, took turns showering, chatted some more about themselves, the differences in their worlds, and telly shows, films, music and books they liked. They had lunch and Colin would usually pop out to the shop while Bradley would fiddle around with his laptop and surf the net, while most definitely not googling himself or anyone else he knew (it would be too painful). In the evening, Bradley would peruse Colin’s record collection and try to get Colin to sing along with him, while Colin would laugh and continue getting dinner ready. Afterwards, they’d read the newspaper and talk some more until one or both of them started to drift off.

And in between all that, Bradley discovered a love of reading he never knew he had; as a child and teenager he’d always been too hyper and busy running around and playing football to bother with reading that wasn’t homework, and later on in life, he’d only ever read scripts or drama books. Reading had always been a chore, but now, with no one or nothing forcing him to, Bradley went from flicking through books in idle curiosity, to reading small passages to reading the whole things. Colin teased him the first time he’d caught Bradley curled up on a chair, totally engrossed in a book and ignoring the smell of dinner, but it was with a fond smile, so Bradley simply focused on that.

However, as much as Bradley was enjoying himself, he missed being outside and soaking up the sun. He said so as he and Colin were cleaning up after breakfast, and Colin looked pensive before he said, “come on,” and led Bradley into his bedroom.

Bradley was about to question him, but the words died on his lips when he saw that most of the wall behind Colin’s bed was taken up by two huge windows.

“I know it’s not the same,” Colin said as he opened them both, letting in fresh air and sounds from outside, “but you could lie here and pretend you’re out in a park?”

Bradley felt a tiny bit choked up at this kind gesture, so he simply nodded, swallowed and said, “yeah, that’d be great. Cheers mate.”

He climbed up on the bed and lay back, only then realising he was lying on Colin’s bed clad only in his boxers. He cleared his throat and glanced at Colin, doing a double take when he saw Colin looking at him with lust-filled eyes.

‘Oh God, oh God, oh God…’

Hoping his smile didn’t look too awkward, Bradley patted the space beside him and said, “Care to join me in my imaginary park?”

Colin flushed, coughed and nodded, before climbing carefully onto the bed and lying down beside him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and hummed happily as the warmth and sunshine washed over him. As much as Bradley wanted to do the same, he couldn’t stop staring at Colin, clad only in his boxers, bathed in sunlight and looking like the most beautiful and desirable thing Bradley had ever seen. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and stroked it down Colin’s cheek. Colin inhaled sharply and turned to look at Bradley questioningly, but Bradley could see it underneath – the lust, the heat, the desire, and he was powerless to stop himself from rolling into Colin’s space and claiming his mouth. Colin gasped and suddenly, his tongue was in Bradley’s mouth and his hands were everywhere: carding through Bradley’s hair, scratching lightly down his arms and back, squeezing his ass and pulling Bradley fully on top of him. Bradley groaned, shoved his legs in between Colin’s, pulled one of Colin’s legs up to wrap around his waist and rolled his hips. Colin’s hips thrust up and he threw his head back with a deep moan. Bradley immediately latched onto his neck, biting, sucking and licking, while Colin wrapped his other leg around Bradley’s waist and sunk his hands in Bradley’s hair, his hips rocking in time with Bradley’s.

“Oh God Colin,” Bradley groaned in between kisses, “want you, need you. Want to taste you, all of you.”

“Yes,” Colin panted. “Yes, God Bradley please.”

With this encouragement, Bradley moved down Colin’s body, hands tracing a path across Colin’s clavicle, his nipples, stomach and ribs; his lips and tongue followed, while Colin moaned and urged him on. Finally Bradley made it to his boxers, where the tip of his cock was poking out. Bradley nuzzled his erection and kissed the tip, his tongue dipping briefly into the slit.

Colin cursed as his hips thrust up and he pushed and tugged at Bradley’s shoulders and hair. “Come on Bradley please,” he begged, and Bradley was helpless to do anything but obey.

With a nip at Colin’s hip, he pulled Colin’s boxers down and off, tossing them to the floor as he took in Colin’s cock, flushed red, long and hard with a deliciously prominent vein running up the underside. Bradley licked his lips and Colin groaned, his legs parting further and his hips twitching. Shuffling down a bit more so he was lying in between Colin’s legs, Bradley licked Colin’s erection from base to tip and swirled his tongue in the slit, gathering up some pre-cum to taste, before fitting his mouth over the head and sucking.

“Jesus!” Colin cried, his hips bucking up and Bradley loved it, loved all of it, and went to town on Colin.

He bobbed his head up and down, working with the thrust of Colin’s hips, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, and kept his tongue swirling around as much of Colin’s dick as he could, while his hands stroked Colin’s hips, chest, balls and perineum, and ventured further down to Colin’s hole, while he humped the mattress and groaned at the sheer want pumping through his veins.

Colin’s cries were growing louder and louder, until suddenly he was pulling Bradley’s head up, saying, “Bradley – kiss – touch – need to touch you.”

Bradley immediately moved back up Colin’s body and he claimed his mouth in a fierce kiss, while Colin shoved his boxers down, wrapped his legs around Bradley’s and took them both in hand, stroking quickly and firmly. Bradley gave a sharp cry, his hips thrusting and his arms coming between Colin and the mattress as he wrapped his arms around Colin’s shoulders. He could feel his orgasm quickly approaching: his stomach tightened to the point of pain, his balls drew up and his toes curled. The feel of another cock against his, the friction of Colin’s hand, the sound of Colin’s moans and whimpers that were getting louder and more drawn out, were too much for Bradley, and he buried his face against Colin’s neck and keened as his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave. He heard Colin shout and felt his hips stutter as he came, and the two collapsed in a sated heap as they revelled in the afterglow.

*****

Colin was nearly hyperventilating and he couldn’t COULDN’T wrap his mind around Bradley’s revelation, nor could he stop the images that were flashing through his head: Bradley and the other Colin kissing, touching each other, Bradley naked, smiling his soft, delighted smile that had only ever been Colin’s, but was now some other Colin’s. Colin sucked down air and shook as he clutched at his hair, trying to make sense of what was going on. He felt violated and betrayed and mostly sick to his stomach, and he couldn’t focus on why, or what he needed to do about it.

“Colin,” Bradley said, his voice wrecked, and there was a hand on his knee, and Colin felt too raw and exposed and jerked away with a shrill, “No!”

He backed around and away from Bradley, shuffling on his feet and hands further into the trailer, looking anywhere but at the blond-haired man who he’d once trusted more than anyone else in his life.

Bradley collapsed on the ground, his shoulders shaking as he fought back tears.

“Why?” Coin said eventually, his voice tight and a little wild. “Why…him – me?”

“Because I’ve wanted you for so long,” Bradley replied in a low and devastated voice. “Because I’ve been in love with you for two years and I never thought – never let myself think – that I could ever have you. And he…” Bradley took a shuddery breath, “he wanted me. I, I didn’t know if I was ever going to get back here, thought I might be stuck there for the rest of my life. We talked about it, he knew, but he wanted to anyway. I couldn’t, couldn’t give up the chance to be with him, especially when I didn’t know if I’d be coming back.”

Bradley buried his face in his hands and gave in to the soft sobs that were clawing at the back of his throat.

*****

“Oh God,” Bradley moaned contentedly against Colin’s chest, “I can see why the French call it a Little Death.”

Colin chuckled and continued to stroke his fingers through Bradley’s hair. Once their breathing had returned to normal, the two men had been content to cuddle and kiss languidly, each enjoying the feel of another body against their own. Bradley felt Colin tense beneath him and placed a kiss on his chest before looking up inquisitively.

“Bradley…if you want to try to find a way home, I will help you,” Colin said, staring up at the ceiling.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Bradley snorted. He kissed Colin’s chest once again, and rubbed it soothingly as he said, “I would say through that if there’s a way, then it’s likely that my friends or someone working on Merlin will find it. I know that we both wanted this,” he continued, waving a hand between them, “but I don’t know how long I’ll be here, or if I’ll be pulled back or not…”

“Which is why I’d like to make the most of whatever time we have together,” Colin said in a hopeful tone.

Bradley smiled in delight and nodded, before leaning up and kissing Colin deeply, nipping at his lips.

“If I were your friends I wouldn’t sleep until I found a way to get you back,” Colin whispered, and warmth bloomed in Bradley’s chest, so much so that he fairly tackled Colin and the two rolled so that Colin was on top, very eager to explore Bradley’s body and bring them both to pleasure again.

Afterwards, when they were panting in each other’s arms Bradley turned to Colin and said in a serious voice, “If or when I’m gone, I want you to find the other Bradley. Get Katie to introduce you. You two would make each other very happy.”

“You think?” Colin asked, snuggling against him.

“Yeah, and if he’s as much like me as Katie said, he’ll love you.”

There was a pause, and then Colin said softly, “you really care for the Colin in your world.”

“I never let myself think about it,” Bradley replied honestly, shrugging.

Colin kissed the top of his head and then rolled away, saying, “come on, we both need a shower.”

Bradley pushed away any melancholy thoughts creeping into his head and joined Colin, earning a shout of laughter from the black-haired man when he smacked his arse.

That night, Bradley stayed with Colin in his bed, and when he woke in the middle of the night, disorientated and slightly panicked, he simply rolled back into Colin’s embrace and let himself drift off, feeling at peace with where he was and what he’d found.

*****

Bradley couldn’t take the way Colin was looking at him, like he was the worst, most horrible thing Colin had ever seen, like his heart was breaking because of Bradley. Bradley had already felt like his heart was torn out the moment he was pulled back into his world. He’d lost Colin as a love, and he had been trying so hard to put his heart back together and accept that that had been the end of it, believing that that was the worst he would ever feel.

But now, the way Colin was looking at him, coupled with the fact that Bradley was losing him as a friend too made the previous heartache pale in comparison. He clutched his chest, at the spot where his heart was fluttering and cracking, and knew that if he stayed there he would break down, that if he actually heard Colin say that he never wanted to see or talk to Bradley again, he wouldn’t survive it. He needed to get out of this trailer, away from Colin, hide in the shell of Arthur for a while, and then go back to his hotel room and let himself break down before trying to put himself back together. Alone.

Colin threw him another look of betrayal and Bradley jumped up, scrabbling for the trailer door and stumbling out into the fresh air and sunshine, practically running away from the trailer and the man inside.

He wished he’d never been brought back, that he was back with Colin and not in this God-forsaken world where he had nothing. Tears dripped down his face even as he fought them and the memories of what he had been torn from washed over him.

*****

Bradley had been staying with Colin for nearly three weeks, and they’d settled into a wonderful routine. It was essentially the same as the routine they had established the first couple of days Bradley had been there – breakfast, chatting, lunch, music, talking, reading, dinner and more talking – only now there was also sex. A lot of sex – in the morning before breakfast, any time during the day that it struck their fancy, and at night. Colin and Bradley couldn’t get enough of each other, and explored all the different ways they could express their desire.

Bradley loved nothing more than to push Colin down on the bed and climb on top of him, teasing them both mercilessly before he sunk down on Colin’s cock and rode him until they shook from the force of their orgasms. Colin on the other hand, preferred being taken from behind, loving the feel of Bradley draped over his back as he rocked into him with short, brutal thrusts.

There was touching too, which eternally delighted Bradley: he would grab Colin whenever the other man passed by, wrap his arms around the slender Irishman as he cooked, and kiss him on the cheek as they cleaned side by side. In the evening s they would curl up together on the couch and share secrets, listen to music, or read to each other. It was pure domestic bliss and Bradley felt heady with how contented he was. If it weren’t for the odd text from Katie, he’d have forgotten there was a world outside of their cosy apartment.

“Did you have a sword with you when you first got here?” Colin asked one night, looking at his phone in confusion.

“Um…oh my God yes! I must have left it in Katie’s car,” Bradley replied.

Colin laughed and passed the phone to him, saying, “I don’t think you did.”

Bradley frowned, took the phone and promptly burst out laughing when he read the text from Katie.

OMG YOU GOBSHITE YOU LEFT YOUR SWORD IN BRADLEY’S SITTING ROOM. HE’S FREAKING OUT!!! >:(

Still laughing, he typed, TELL HIM IT’S AN EARLY BIRTHDAY PRESENT, HE’LL LOVE IT! pressed send and tossed the phone to the floor before leaning over Colin with a cheeky, “Let me show you what I can do with my sword.”

The only thing wrong was the possibility of Bradley going back to his world looming over their heads. For every smile and laugh and round of amazingly hot sex, there was a voice in the back of his head, asking just how long this was going to last and, when was it was going to be the last time he got to be with Colin like this. Bradley kept wondering if this would be hanging over him the rest of his life, or when would it be acceptable for him to let go of his world and embrace his new life here. Shamefully enough, he was ready to now. He wanted to turn to Colin and tell him he loved him and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him… but there was something holding him back, some small part of him that missed his old life and his world, and wanted to go home. He decided to give it a bit more time; it would fade eventually.

On the morning that marked Bradley being in the parallel universe three weeks, he woke up feeling strange. It was like there was a strange tug in his gut, and the part of him that wanted to go home flared up stronger than ever. The feeling stayed with him as he had sex with Colin, and he clung to the other man desperately in response. It stayed with him through breakfast and his shower, and by the time he and Colin sat down to read in the living room it had gotten stronger, feeling like a physical pull on his body. He grabbed Colin’s hand, held it tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the feeling to go away.

“Bradley? What’s wrong?” Colin asked in concern, squeezing his hand back.

“I…I think I’m being pulled back,” Bradley replied, his voice wavering.

Colin gasped, and when Bradley looked at him, he saw what he knew was reflected in his own eyes: grief, loss and bitter disappointment. Colin was suddenly in his space, kissing him desperately and the two men clung to each other, while the tug got stronger and stronger.

“Colin,” Bradley gasped. “Promise me you’ll find him, promise.”

“I will,” Colin vowed, his eyes watering. “Bradley, I…” He trailed off, searching Bradley’s eyes, and Bradley smiled and said, “Me too.”

They kissed again and the tug manifested itself into one sharp pull before Bradley found himself in the middle of a forest surrounded by people. He looked around, bewildered, and suddenly Colin was back in his arms, murmuring his name over and over.

‘Oh thank God I didn’t lose him,’ he thought as he buried his face against Colin’s neck and sighed in relief.

Except…something was wrong, something was very wrong. Colin smelt and felt different, and why were they in a forest? The moment Colin mentioned that they’d gotten him back, he realised what was wrong; this wasn’t his Colin. Only it was, because he was back in his world.

Too many emotions for him to deal with swelled within him – he was elated to be back and to be able to live freely, but he’d just lost something incredibly precious, something he would never have again. As everyone crowded in to greet him, he received them just as enthusiastically, and discovered that he had missed them far more than he had realised.

Over the next two weeks Bradley felt incrementally better about being back. Settling back into his life, especially after having only been gone three weeks, had proven surprisingly difficult, and Bradley was growing weary. Some parts were easy: getting back into filming for one, helped by the fact that being Arthur was like putting on his favourite tracksuit, comfortable and familiar. Bantering with the crew and falling back in with his friends and reconnecting with his family had been joyous and fun. Everything was pretty much back to normal, except for a persistent ache in Bradley’s heart where something was missing. Except for Colin, the one thing that was making settling back in so difficult. Colin, who Bradley had made fall apart in ecstasy, who he’d made laugh and smile in delight and who’d kissed him with so much love and passion-

It was so very hard for Bradley to be around Colin, and when he had to be around the other man, he flew between feeling so desperately in love he could burst to feeling so heartbroken it was all he could do not to curl up and never expose himself to the other man again. He was terrified of being alone around Colin, afraid that he’d forget where he was, which Colin he was with and he’d do something stupid, something that would ruin their friendship completely.

He needed time, just a little bit, away from Colin, so he could sort out his pathetic mess of a heart and get over what had happened. Only Colin wasn’t letting him – he was constantly barging into Bradley’s space, wanting to talk or hang out or anything, and Bradley was fast losing the resolve to turn him down. He realised that Colin wasn’t going to give up, and on the day that Colin turned up at his trailer, anger visibly radiating off him, Bradley knew that this was as far as he could go. There was no avoiding Colin, so he let the other man in and steeled himself for a difficult conversation.

*****

(Part 3)

Every Version of You (Part 1)

phys_nut — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 08:27:57 GMT

“Okay guys, ready?” Julian beamed at Bradley and Edward, who was their guest star for the episode, playing an evil magician, bent on ridding Camelot of Arthur.

Both men nodded, taking their positions. Bradley shifted in his chainmail, stretched his neck from side to side and tightened his grip on his sword as he fell into the persona of Arthur, while Bradley remained in the back of his head, focused on the dialogue and blocking.

The scene itself was short enough: Arthur had just found the rogue magician Diarmuid, and was attempting to capture and thus imprison him. Diarmuid however would then cast a spell that would send Arthur to another world – one in which he was not prince of Camelot, and therefore, would never be King.

“And the best part,” Julian had told them excitedly, “is that the spell is real! I thought it would be fun to do the same as those Supernatural chaps and found a ‘real spell’. Well,” he had chucked ruefully, “as real as a spell could be.”

“ACTION!”

Bradley sprang into action, diving at Edward and bellowing, “Halt! You are trespassing on my lands, where the practise of magic is forbidden. You shall be taken back to Camelot Castle and imprisoned.”

“You know not what you are trifling with, young king,” Edward growled. “Camelot IS magic, as are you. To ban it is to ban the wind from blowing, or tree taking root.”

“That may be, but it is still the law.”

“And as king, so too is your word.” Edward smirked. “Still cowering behind your father’s words – too scared to speak your own?”

Bradley yelled in anger and lunged, bringing his sword down. Edward raised his hand and shouted out the deep guttural words of the spell. All at once there was silence, and everything went dark.

Bradley landed, his sword completing its swing, and looked around in bewilderment. Instead of being in the forest, he found himself in the middle of a very fancy but tastefully decorated living room.

“What the…” He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and spun around several times, alternating between examining the room and examining himself. Had he been knocked out? Drugged? Abducted by aliens? Maybe he’d been kidnapped! By rabid fangirls!

“Oh God I’ll be stuck in a sex dungeon forever,” he moaned dramatically, sinking into a (oh my days so comfortable) nearby couch, head in hands.

He put his head between his knees and took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. There had to be some sort of logical explanation for this, no matter how weird. He just needed more information.

“Right,” he muttered decisively. “First I find out where I am, and then I figure out how to get back to work. Simple.”

That decided, he placed his sword on a coffee table, and set off to find clues. And immediately found some rather startling ones: photographs. Of him. But not stalkerish ones, rather they were proper ones he himself would, and did, own. Some, he recognised; there were family photos, photos of him and mates from school and college, all of which he had at home. Then there were photos of him with people he didn’t personally know – footballers, celebrities, a few random men (who looked like they could be his boyfriend the way they were wrapped around his side). There were none of him with the Merlin crew (strange) but there were quite a lot of him and Katie. Strangest of all, there were photos of him in the Arsenal kit – playing football, standing with the Arsenal players.

Even more confused and slightly perturbed, Bradley moved on. He explored the kitchen (stocked with all his favourite food), bathroom (with all of his products present), and the bedroom (where he found quite a lot of his clothes, and quite a lot of football gear). There was a definite theme here that Bradley was having trouble accepting, and it was confirmed when he found post in the hall – bills, and letters, all addressed to Mr. Bradley James.

He stood in the hallway frowning down at the letter, and then very slowly, sampling the idea, said aloud, “I live here.”

It sounded completely insane, but it was the only thing that made sense. It must be a prank, something Katie had designed. And yet… and yet there was another possibility, a terrifying and inexplicable one that he couldn’t accept, not until he talked to someone.

“I need Colin,” he mumbled, dropping the letters and reaching for the house phone. He dialled Colin’s number and waited, his expression terse.

Something twisted unpleasantly in his stomach when he got a wrong number tone, and it intensified when the same happened for Angel and Katie.

“Okay, okay, no need to panic,” Bradley said to himself, even as he felt the hysteria approaching. “I have photos of Katie and myself, we must be friends…phonebook!” He cried, and dashed for the bedroom, where he found his phonebook in its usual place.

“Ha, I guess it pays to be old-fashioned now, doesn’t it McGrath,” he muttered in a mocking tone, as he thumbed through the book, goggling at the amount of numbers it contained, most of which he didn’t recognise. There was no Angel or Colin, but there was a Katie M.

“Please please please,” he whispered, as he dialled the phone once more.

He gave a shout of triumph when it started ringing, and then after a moment a familiar voice said, “Hello?”

“Katie? Katie is that you?” Bradley babbled, overjoyed to have contact with someone he knew.

“Bradley, sweetie, are you okay?” Katie asked in a concerned tone.

Woah. Where was the snarky, sneery sarcasm?

“You’re not my Katie,” Bradley said sadly.

“Your what?”

“Oh God it’s true, I’m in a parallel universe!” He bemoaned piteously.

“Sweet Jesus Bradley, I warned you about drunk dialling me.” Katie snapped. “I swear it’s like dealing with a puppy, you ought to be leashed and muzzled.”

Oh no wait. This was definitely Katie.

“Katie wait,” he said urgently. “You have to listen to me – its sounds weird but I swear, I just suddenly found myself in his house and all my stuff is here, and I think I live here but I don’t know where here is and there’s photos of the two of us so I found your number and-“

“Bradley shut up.” Katie interrupted imperiously, and then asked in a strange tone, “Are you telling me you’re ringing me from your house?”

“Yes. Well I believe so.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then Katie barked in a commanding tone, “I’m coming over. I’ll come in the back. Do NOT leave the house. And if you’re pulling a prank on me Bradley James, so help me I’ll have your balls in a vice by sundown.”

With that she hung up, leaving a confused Bradley to hang up the phone and wander back into the sitting room. Not sure what to do, or how to process what was going on (parallel universe!) he went to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich and cup of tea.

He was halfway through eating his sandwich when he heard a car pull up, and a moment later, there was the sound of a key jiggling before the back door opened and in stepped Katie. Only it wasn’t Katie – her face was more gaunt and her hair was blond. Still, it was someone he knew. Somewhat.

“Katie.” He smiled in relief.

“Good heavens Bradley, what are you wearing?” She asked incredulously.

Bradley frowned and looked down at himself, only then realising he was still in his chainmail.

“Oh, I was filming a scene just before I ended up here.”

“You were filming a scene,” Katie said dubiously, raising a brow.

“Yes, and in it a sorcerer sends me to an alternate universe, and the spell must have worked, because, well here I am. I know it sounds crazy Katie, but I swear I’m telling you the tr-“

“I believe you,” Katie said in a soft, decisive tone.

“You do? Why?”

Katie rolled her eyes and walked into the living room, Bradley following curiously. She grabbed the remote from a hidden location, switched on the TV and switched to Sky Sport, where there was a live football game on. Bradley frowned and was about to ask her what exactly this was supposed to explain, when he saw himself. Passing the ball down the field. Playing football. For Arsenal. He let out a (completely manly, of course) shriek and fell back onto the coffee table, sending his sword skittering to the ground.

“That’s why I believe you.” Katie smirked.

“I…wha- that’s me,” Bradley said weakly.

He gaped at the TV, his mouth flapping open and shut. Katie regarded him for a moment, and then said in an unimpressed tone, “I can see you’re as quick on the uptake as my Bradley. I’m going to make tea.”

She sauntered off to the kitchen, and Bradley trailed after her, needing to sort everything out in his head.

“So…I’m a footballer.”

“Mmhmm.” Katie hummed as she put the kettle on.

“I play football.”

“That’s what footballers do,” Katie replied, all snark and dripping sarcasm, making Bradley feel comforted.

“I play football for Arsenal.”

Katie sent him a death glare, then sighed and said with a gentle smile, “Ever since they took you on at eighteen.”

This Katie was strange; one minute she was all snappy and snarky, and then there was this unexpected layer of…softness and fondness that his Katie never showed, well, not for him anyway. Bradley contemplated this as he watched her bustle around his kitchen. He noticed how at ease she was in his house, and remembered all the photos of them together. Something very unpleasant began to curl in his stomach.

“Katie?” Bradley ventured, not sure if he wanted to go through with this. “Are we…dating?”

Katie sent him a sharp look, and promptly burst out laughing.

“Not unless my tits have fallen off and I’ve grown a cock.” She smirked.

“Wait. I’m gay?”

“You’re not?”

“No, I mean, I am. I – it’s just…no one knows,” he finished softly.

“Ah, well that’s not the case in this world.”

Bradley blinked uncomprehendingly, and then blurted, “But I’m a footballer.”

“I know,” Katie said, and then took a sip of tea, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“That’s just not…heard of.”

Katie took another gulp, put her cup down and said, “Come on.”

She led him through the house and into a room he hadn’t noticed earlier, a study of sorts, full of books and medals, and a wall covered in newspaper clippings. All centered around one theme.

“Bradley James: paving the way for LGBTQ sports people,” one clipping proclaimed, over an article and interview with Bradley about coming out.

“The Trevor Project: Gay Footballer Tells Young People: Never be Afraid to be Honest About Who You Are.” There was a picture of Bradley standing in front of the Trevor Project logo with other LGBTQ celebrities.

“Wow,” Bradley gasped, looking over the multitude of articles.

“Yeah,” Katie smiled. “You’ve done a lot of work for gay rights.”

“What made me come out? When did I come out?” Bradley asked wonderingly.

He’d always been honest with himself and his family, and his close friends from college and uni had had a good inkling about his preference, but Bradley couldn’t imagine ever having the guts or motive to come out to the public.

“Two years ago,” Katie replied, in an almost sad tone. “You fell in love with a teammate, and said you just couldn’t hide it anymore, didn’t want to live in secret. So you came thundering out of the closet in your typical manner,” she finished, eyes crinkling in mirth.

“And what about the teammate?” Bradley asked, already knowing the answer from the look in Katie’s eyes.

“He broke it off with you and transferred to a different team. Couldn’t hack the pressure to come out too and the reactions from the public.”

“But it seems like it went really well.” Bradley frowned, gesturing to the newspaper clippings.

“Overall, yes it did,” Katie replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Initially though, there was quite a bit of negative feedback. Plus you’ve got to remember Bradley,” she added fondly, “that not all of us are as open and honest as you…or rather the you in this world.”

Bradley shrugged and replied, “I haven’t ever had a reason to. What about you?” He quickly asked. “What way do you swing?”

“Any way.” Katie shrugged. “Call me greedy, but I don’t want to miss out on love simply because of something as silly as gender.”

“Ah, I never could tell. I mean, first there was Angel, but then you and Eoin seemed really close…”

“What are you talking about?” Katie asked in a bemused tone.

“The guys from the show.”

“Ah yes, this…show,” Katie murmured, eyes flocking down over Bradley’s costume. “Pray tell, what show is this?”

“Merlin,” Bradley explained. “It’s how we know each other, we’re both actors on the show. I play Arthur and you play-“

“Morgana,” Katie finished, blanching.

“Yes. How…how did you know?”

“I auditioned for it – got the part too,” Katie answered with a humourless laugh. “You…well you obviously didn’t.”

“What happened?” Bradley asked curiously.

Surely it wouldn’t have made that much of a difference – anyone could wield a sword and act like a prat.

“We didn’t get past the pilot, couldn’t find the right Arthur.” Katie explained. “Eventually they cast this guy…he was a total eejit, and Colin and he had zero chemistry, bordering on him being quite mean to poor Colin.”

Bradley, lost in the revelation that he was important to the show, that his decision to pursue football had cost his friends the most important gig of their lives thus-far, snapped his head up at the mention of his co-stars names.

“Colin? You know Colin?”

Katie smirked and replied, “Yeah, we kept in touch after the show was cancelled. You and he are…close?”

“Yeah,” Bradley said, a goofy smile on his face, before he quickly added, “I mean, he’s my best friend. Colin’s – we’re not – Colin’s not gay.” He finally stuttered out.

Katie’s grin grew to Cheshire cat proportions, before she snapped back to herself and said in a business-like fashion, “Right, well obviously you can’t stay here, people will see. I’ve a friend you can stay with until we figure stuff out.”

“I can’t stay with you?” Bradley said, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

Katie rolled her eyes, smirked and replied, “Nah, too many paparazzi around there.”

“Pap…wait, what do you do? And how do we even know each other?”

“I’m a model,” Katie answered with a toss of her hair. “I’d gotten offers, and had done small bits of work. After the Merlin disaster…I decided to go for it full time. You and I met at a charity function and clicked; mostly because I figured you were gay, and you figured I wasn’t interested. It helps that we actually get along,” she added teasingly.

“Oh yes, what with the fact that we’re both so devastatingly beautiful,” Bradley smirked in return.

“You’re a lot more smirky than my Bradley.” Katie observed.

“And you’re a lot less smirky than my Katie,” Bradley retorted.

Katie barked out a laugh and then said, “Come on, let’s get you some clothes.”

“You mean I can’t keep wearing these?” Bradley gasped.

Katie rolled her eyes and walked out of the study and into the bedroom, Bradley following. She pulled open a trunk beside the wardrobe and pulled out a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts.

“Here you go, and we’ll buy you some more stuff when you get sorted with a place to stay.”

“Are you sure that…the other me, won’t miss this stuff?”

“Nah, the clothes in here are surplus, he’s rarely worn them. Okay, get changed, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Katie ordered before marching out of the room.

Bradley chuckled and shed his costume as quickly as possible (dammit but armour was difficult to remove by yourself) and put on a pair of jeans and a random t-shirt. He gathered up his things and the other items of clothing Katie had pulled out and made his way to the kitchen, where said friend was waiting with a large bag.

“Much better,” Katie nodded, as she moved forward to help him put his things in the bag. “Okay, put these on,” she instructed, handing him a cap and sunglasses, “and follow me. Quickly.”

With that, she opened the back door, let him out, closed and locked it, and then jogged over to her car, looking around furtively. Bradley glanced around, and, seeing no one, dashed towards the car and threw himself into the passenger seat, Katie laughing at his antics.

“Steady there Indiana. Just keep them on and your head down. Everyone knows you’re in a match, so no one should recognise you.”

“Got it,” Bradley replied, slouching down in his seat as Katie started up the car and pulled around the house and out onto the road.

They drove in silence until Bradley said, “I gotta say, you are handling this remarkably well. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

“Me too,” Katie confessed with a sheepish laugh. “I’ve always been a ‘sort out the problem now, freak out later’ person though, so I’m guessing this will all hit me later on after I’ve gotten you settled with my friend.”

“Ah yes,” Bradley mused. “This, friend…are you sure he…she, will be okay with having me over? I’d hate to be an inconvenience…”

“Don’t worry, he’s playing poor and starving artist at the moment, he’ll be delighted to have you over. He’s very nice,” Katie said reassuringly.

Bradley smiled and nodded, and fiddled with the radio for the rest of the journey, right into the heart of London City and out to the north side. She pulled up outside a block of apartments, which looked horrendous on the outside, but which were, “perfectly lovely inside, trust me Bradley.”

Bradley hauled himself and his bag up four flights of stairs after Katie, and whipped off the cap and glasses when they finally made it to the apartment so he could wipe the sheen of sweat off his forehead. Katie rapped on the door.

“Just a minute Katie!” a familiar voice yelled, and Bradley felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

There was a slamming sound, followed by a muffled curse, before the door was thrown open by a man. A man with a mop of dark hair, shaggy sideburns and killer cheekbones. Both he and Bradley sucked in a surprised breath and gaped at each other, Katie smirking at each of them.

“Katie,” the man finally said in a strangled voice. “When I said bring Bradley James over for tea, I was joking.”

Bradley was frozen, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of the man in front of him, before he finally breathed out a single word.

“Colin.”

*****

Colin was feeling completely out of sorts, and didn’t know what to do about it. On the one hand, Bradley had been back for two weeks, and everything was working its way back to life’s normal rhythms. On the other hand, now that Bradley was back, it was like he was more distant than when he had been gone. The whole time they had been trying to find a way to bring Bradley home, the weeks that Colin had spent fervently reading book after book and trying spell after spell, the one thing that had kept him motivated had been imagining how things would be once he had his best friend back – they would hang out in his room watching Buffy or badly dubbed foreign films, or just talking while Colin tried to bribe Bradley into rehearsing with him for the twentieth time. They would prank the other cast members and have drinking contests and tell each other all about their experiences while Bradley had been missing. They would go back to being Colin-and-Bradley, just like before. He’d have his best friend back.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Bradley was perfectly normal during filming, charming and obnoxious and professional as usual, and was lovely and friendly with everyone, more so really. Except for Colin. Colin, who he supposedly has “bromance” with, was now the last person Bradley wanted to be around, or at the very least, alone with. Every time Colin tried to corner him or have a quiet word with him on set, Bradley managed to find something else he has to do or someone else to drag into the conversation. Every time Colin invited Bradley out, Bradley brought at least two other people, usually Katie and Angel. And every time Colin went to Bradley’s room, Bradley was either too tired to hang out, or suddenly had to go out, or “wasn’t in” (even though Colin could hear him trying to be silent).

It hurt far more than Colin cared to admit, mostly because he didn’t understand why Bradley was acting this way.

“Have you noticed Bradley acting…a bit off?” Colin asked Katie and Angel during lunch one day, feeling that he was going to get an answer he wouldn’t like.

“If you mean, acting slightly more loony and affectionate than usual, then yes,” Katie replied, waving her fork menacingly.

“He hugged her yesterday,” Angel told him, eyes sparkling teasingly. “For no reason.”

“He hugged you too,” Katie snapped.

“Yes, but I happen to enjoy being hugged,” Angel retorted smugly.

“Oh…did he say why?” Colin asked, slightly nervous.

“He missed me apparently,” Angel replied, with a happy smile. “He wasn’t able to find Parallel Angel, before we brought him back.”

“And apparently, Parallel Katie was slightly nicer to him than I am, so he’s decided I’m actually hiding a heart of gold under my snark and it’s up to him to bring it out with hugs and affection,” Katie added with a vicious eye roll.

“He’s told you about what happened to him?” Colin gaped.

He’d only ever seen Bradley frown and offer a few short words whenever anyone had asked him about the other Earth he’d ended up in. Hell, Bradley would barely speak two words to him, but he’d told Katie and Angel everything?

“Only a few bits and pieces,” Angel told him. “He’s oddly tight-lipped about the whole thing, and he gets really uncomfortable if anyone presses for details.”

“I’m a model – a famous one,” Katie smirked. “Which is more than you can say, Mister Poor-and-Starving Theatre Artist.”

“He – he met me?” Colin asked slowly, his mind reeling.

“Well duh, he stayed with Parallel Colin the whole time he was there.”

Colin could feel the blood draining from his face as his expression froze into one of shock. Bradley had stayed with him, with Parallel Universe Colin, the whole time, and now wasn’t speaking to him. Something had happened in another world, with another Colin, and now, Bradley couldn’t even look him in the eye, could barely stand being around him.

“Colin…did…did Bradley not tell you?” Angel asked gently.

“No,” Colin replied hoarsely, feeling his throat tighten. “He hasn’t said anything…in fact, he’s barely said two words to me since he’s come back.”

His hands were shaking and he was blinking rapidly, and he couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t think of what it was he could have done to irreparably damage their friendship. Vaguely he noticed Angel and Katie exchange a look he didn’t quite understand, and before they could say anything, he was up, walking off rapidly, ignoring them calling after him.

He was going to find Bradley, and he was going to get the answers he deserved.

*****

“So…he’s not Bradley James,” Colin said, his tone a mixture of confusion and slight disappointment.

They were standing in the middle of his living room, Katie having ushered them inside when she’d had enough of them gaping at each other. She’d barked at Bradley to stop gawking, and then had turned to Colin and told him that this wasn’t the Bradley James.

“No,” Katie said.

“But…he looks just like him,” Colin said doubtfully.

“That’s because he is him,” Katie explained.

“But you just said he isn’t,” Colin replied in a frustrated tone.

“I’m Bradley from a parallel universe,” Bradley piped up helpfully.

“A parallel universe,” Colin said flatly, finally looking at him for the first time since the door gaping incident.

“Yup.” Bradley smiled reassuringly.

“Am I being punked?” Colin asked, giving them both the stink eye. “Because this is not fucking funny.”

“We are not punking you Colin,” Katie said, rolling her eyes exasperatedly. “This Bradley is from a parallel universe. The Bradley James of this universe is currently playing a football match, which I could show you if you had Sky Sports, which you could afford if you’d go do some work.”

Bradley couldn’t contain his chuckles at Katie’s words, and found two pairs of eyes staring at him inquisitively.

“I’m sorry,” he said in an amused tone. “It’s just that (a) Colin doesn’t really watch TV unless he’s forced to, and (b) Colin and sports? Colin doesn’t watch sports unless it’s a GAA match or the Olympics. I mean,” he quickly added as Colin’s brows furrowed, “that’s the way the Colin in my universe is, I don’t know if it’s the same for you…”

“No,” Colin said softly, cutting him off, “no you’re right.”

He sat down, head in hands, alternating between looking at the floor, looking at Katie (who smiled and nodded) and looking at Bradley as if he had ten heads, while Bradley shuffled awkwardly on the spot, trying desperately to think of something to say to Colin to make him feel better. But he had a feeling that anything he said would only freak Colin out more, and the last thing he wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable. So he clamped his mouth shut and tried not to stare at Colin and will him to be okay. He felt torn; in this universe they were virtual strangers, but in reality Bradley knew Colin, parallel universe or no parallel universe.

Finally Colin said, “I need tea.” He stood and said as he made his way into the adjoining kitchen, “Anyone for tea?”

“I would if you had actual proper tea Morgan.” Bradley joked without thinking, and then blurted, “Oh no wait, do you have that minty tea?”

He just as quickly came to his senses and took a step back, eyes wide. So much for not making Colin uncomfortable. Colin was staring hard at him with a variety of expressions flitting across his face, before he suddenly burst out laughing. The tension in the room immediately vanished, and Bradley breathed a sigh of relief.

“If you’re talking about peppermint tea, then yeah sure.” Colin chuckled, grabbing the kettle to fill it.

“Cheers,” Bradley replied, following him.

“So, you’re from a parallel world,” Colin stated, flicking the switch on the kettle.

“Yup.”

“And I would hazard a guess that we know each other?” Colin asked, eyes crinkling.

“You know each other very well,” Katie leered, and Colin turned a (very lovely) dark red.

“We’re best friends,” Bradley clarified, nudging Katie in the ribs. “We work together.”

“We work together?” Colin echoed in a bemused tone.

“On Merlin.”

“Mer-… Merlin?”

Colin’s face blanched, just as Katie’s had earlier, and Bradley felt a faint echo of heartache at how badly this had affected his friends.

“Show him your costume,” Katie told Bradley quietly.

Bradley retrieved his costume from the bag in the living room and laid it out on the kitchen table.

“Oh my God,” Colin breathed, reaching out hesitantly to touch the chainmail. He ran his hand reverently down the red fabric and said, “You – you were Arthur.”

“Yeah.”

“And the show’s a success?”

“We’re filming season five at the moment,” Bradley told him.

Colin nodded and continued to stroke the costume, an unreadable expression on his face. Bradley fidgeted, fighting the urge to cover the other man’s hand with his own. ‘It isn’t fair,’ he thought. ‘Colin’s so…’

“It’s not right,” he blurted.

When the other two in the room looked at him perplexed, and Colin snatched his hand back, Bradley coughed, feeling himself blush, and hastily explained, “I mean, I’m sorry that it didn’t work out for you. The show,” he clarified, and was suddenly thrown slightly forward by Katie who gave him a big hug from behind.

“Aw, you’re just as sweet and considerate as my Bradley,” she cooed teasingly.

“Argh! Wench!” Bradley yelled instinctually, struggling away from her, while Katie laughed and clung on, replying, “But I thought you loved my hugs!”

Bradley paused, and allowed himself to soak up the warmth of her hug.

“Hmm…that is nice,” he said in a surprised tone.

“Has your Katie never hugged you?”

“Not for the sake of hugging no,” Bradley replied with a shrug. “Usually she would call me a sap and poke me in the ribs if I tried to hug her…although to be fair, when I say hug, I mean headlock.”

“You should try hug her,” Katie declared, with a snarky grin, which Bradley returned.

“Sneak up on her from behind,” Colin added with a smirk. “Also, there’s no need to apologise for something that isn’t your fault, although it is nice to know that it wasn’t completely my fault the show never took off.”

“It really wasn’t,” Bradley said earnestly, picking up on the opportunity to reassure the other man. “Everyone loves you.”

Colin turned that lovely shade of red once again, and Bradley cleared his throat, most definitely not staring at where the blush disappeared below the collar of his t-shirt.

“To quote Torchwood – this is quite homoerotic.” Katie smirked, earning glares from the two men. “What? You’re both gay, and at this particular moment I could cut the sexual tension between you with a knife. A sexy one.”

Colin and Bradley looked at each other with shocked expressions, and Katie went to make tea with a mischievous smile on her lips.

“You?” Bradley spluttered. “Gay?”

“Well yes.” Colin shrugged. “And, you? I mean, I know that the Bradley in this world is…”

“I am.” Bradley nodded. “But…the Colin in my world, he’s… well, I guess I don’t know. He’s never said.”

“I can imagine that if he’s famous or in the public eye a lot, he’d never say anything,” Colin said. “I’m only out here and with friends because I know it won’t get back to my family.”

“They don’t know?”

“My brother and mam know…but my mam’s asked me not to tell my dad or other relatives… she doesn’t think they’ll take it well… not that she took it great either.” He snorted derisively.

“My family know,” Bradley said softly. “I’m lucky, they were really supportive. I just don’t want to deal with all the publicity of coming out to the media,” he finished quietly, feeling a little ashamed of himself as he thought of what the Bradley in this world had done.

“We all have our reasons,” Colin said, giving him a small grin, which Bradley returned.

“Yes yes, let’s all bond over our closet status,” Katie said briskly, as she returned with cups filled with different coloured liquids. “Meanwhile, tea!” She announced, placing the cups in front of their respective drinker.

Bradley took a sip and smacked his lips happily at the minty flavour.

“So Colin, what do you do?” He asked, glancing up at Colin, who quickly averted his gaze and stared fixedly at his cup. Something hot curled in his belly at that, and Bradley found himself staring down at his cup too.

“I, uh, I work in theatre,” Colin replied offhandedly. “Nothing big or famous, but I enjoy it.”

“Nonsense! You’ve been getting lead roles and really good reviews on your last few plays.” Katie pointed out proudly.

“Yeah, but it’s just theatre.” Colin shrugged, and from his tone, Bradley could tell that they’d had this conversation before.

“A lot of famous actors started – “

“That’s true, but I want to stick with theatre,” Colin said firmly.

“You always did seem to enjoy it more,” Bradley agreed.

“I… I did?”

“Well, I only saw you in one play, but you did love to go on and on about it,” Bradley teased.

Katie hooted with laughter, and the three fell into an easy conversation for the next two hours.

Despite the fact that they were strangers in this world, Bradley was glad to discover that he and Colin fell back into the easy camaraderie and banter, just like when they had really gotten into Merlin. It helped that he could now understand what Colin was saying, could read his moods and expressions better, and knew what Colin found funny and what he was downright offended by. It was uncanny how similar to his Colin this one was, but, Bradley supposed, there was only one difference between this Colin and the one in his world – Merlin – so it shouldn’t be that surprising.

Actually, there was another difference, his mind supplied slyly, but Bradley shoved it away, just as he always shoved away thoughts like this, about how he may or may not feel about Colin.

Eventually, Katie stepped back from the counter, stretched and said, “Okay, I’m knackered. Colin, obviously Bradley can’t go running around outside unless he wants to cause a media frenzy, and he can’t stay with me for paparazzi-based reasons, so can he please stay with you until we figure out what to do?”

Colin spluttered and Katie quickly added, “I know you’re taking a break from work at the moment. Plus you’re the only person I trust with this, and who Bradley knows. Sort of.”

Colin had an uncomfortable look on his face, like he wanted to say no, but would say yes anyway because of how nice he was; Bradley couldn’t stand to be the reason for that look so he blurted out, “What about Angel?”

“No,” Katie replied immediately. “She’s doing a job on some show up north.”

There was something in her tone of voice and the tightness of her expression, that made Bradley drop that train of thought without question, and he replied, “I guess I could go visit my mum, though I’ll um, I’ll need money for the train…”

“No,” Colin barked, then sighed and added, “You can stay here, of course you can Bradley. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise, it’s just… it’s been a long time since I’ve shared a space with anyone.”

“Excellent!” Katie beamed. “Okay, I’ll be gone on a shoot the next few days. Bradley, don’t go outside, and Colin, take care of him.”

She kissed both of them on the cheek, tossed them a wink and then breezed out of the apartment, tossing a cheeky, “Have fun boys!” over her shoulder before she slammed the door shut.

Colin and Bradley shook their heads, identical expressions of fond exasperation on their faces.

“So… more tea?” Colin queried, after a moment’s silence.

“Please.”

“Take a seat, I’ll bring them over,” Colin said, waving a hand towards the living room area.

Bradley nodded and plopped down on the couch, taking a look around. The walls were covered in posters of bands and films he’d never heard of, a massive bookcase took over a wall, and a record player stood on a small table, surrounded by records. Bradley snorted in amusement; it seemed this Colin was even more indie and retro than his one.

“Here you go,” Colin said, as he walked into the living room.

He handed Bradley a cup and settled beside him, curling his legs under him and holding his own cup close. Bradley sipped at his tea and hoped that things wouldn’t be awkward now that Katie wasn’t around to act as a buffer. Bradley wanted to say something funny and cool, something to get rid of the last lingering bits of awkward politeness between them.

“You’re taking this all rather well.”

Well. So much for that.

“Yeah I know,” Colin replied ruefully, throwing Bradley a small, bashful grin. “I think it’s mostly because you and Katie are so calm about it. It’s helping me to not freak the fuck out.”

“Well Katie’s gone home to freak out over a glass or four of wine, and I think that it hasn’t really hit me yet,” Bradley replied dryly. “Just wait, I’ll probably be freaking out in a day or so.”

“And at that point, I will have freaked out in the privacy of my room, and will be there to help you through it.” Colin grinned, and Bradley couldn’t help but grin back.

The two men continued to sip their tea, but tiredness was hitting Bradley like never before.

“Okay, it’s time for bed,” Colin suggested after Bradley yawned deeply for the fifth time.

Bradley blinked sleepily, and then replied, “Yeah okay. I take it this is a one-bedroom?”

“Yes, but the couch folds out into a bed,” Colin told him.

“Excellent.” Bradley yawned and stood up.

He took his and Colin’s cups into the kitchen and washed them while Colin folded out the bed.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning,” Colin said, eyes darting between Bradley and the fold-out bed.

Bradley nodded, hesitated and then went up to Colin and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “This is really decent of you, especially as you don’t really know me.”

“It’s strange, but I feel like I already do.” Colin chuckled.

He flashed Bradley a sweet, shy smile, all crinkled eyes and teeth before he said, “Goodnight Bradley,” and left the room.

Bradley stood there in the daze, his heart and stomach absolutely not doing strange things because of that smile. Eventually, he shook his head furiously, stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed. Sleep came quickly, thank God, and as he drifted off, he thought of how lucky he was that, despite the situation he was in, he’d managed to find Colin.

*****

(Part 2)

Every Version of You (Prologue)

phys_nut — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 08:25:55 GMT

The official statement released to the press was that Bradley has been swept down a river after an accident during a stunt. He was found three weeks later, alive and well, but suffering from slight memory loss due to what had happened to him.

What actually happened was that Bradley disappeared right before everyone’s eyes, and it took a LOT of work to get him back.

Colin could feel it working just like before; a slow thrumming deep in his gut, that sped up with their chanting. The urge to open his eyes was nearly irresistible, but he clenched them even tighter and continued chanting, his voice growing hoarse and his throat straining. They’d been at this for over two hours now, but no one wanted to give up, not when it finally felt like something was happening, not when they’d spent three sleepless weeks researching and trying spells, and Colin’s heart has been broken over and over each time Bradley has failed to reappear. Urged by the palpable energy that was passing from person to person, their chanting grew louder and louder, until there was an imperceptible hiss, followed by a deafening silence, even though Colin could feel his mouth working to continue the chant. His eyes flew open in surprise, and there, standing in the centre of the circle, looking completely bewildered, was Bradley. Before he realised what he was doing, Colin had broken away from Katie and Angel and was running, running until he had Bradley wrapped up in his arms and was murmuring his name over and over again. Bradley’s arms immediately wrapped around his waist, and he nosed against Colin’s neck, sighing softly, before he stiffened and pulled back.

“Colin?” He said in a confused voice. “I – what’s going on?”

“We got you back Bradley.” Colin explained, fighting the choked up feeling in his throat. “It was that spell – you’d been gone three weeks – but we got you back. You’re home.”

“Three weeks…” Bradley murmured, looking around a little lost, before realisation dawned on his face. “Oh – oh. I’m back.”

As he said this, he looked part relieved, part upset, but before Colin could question this, Angel was shrieking, “Bradley!” and suddenly her and Katie had joined their embrace, followed quickly by Eoin, Tony and Richard, and then the rest of the cast and crew all crowded around to welcome Bradley home. Colin removed himself from Bradley’s arms, but stayed close, not wanting to be far from the other man. He smiled fondly as Bradley beamed at Angel and Katie and dragged them both into a crushing hug, followed by a kiss on both cheeks. For the next hour, Bradley made his way through the crowd, receiving well wishes, hugs and slaps on the back, while Colin stayed close, observing him carefully. For the most part, Bradley looked cheerful and happy to see everyone, but Colin noticed the slight tightness of his smile, and the lost, upset look in his eyes every now and then.

Colin wondered what happened to Bradley, what kind of world he had been in, who he had been with and met, but mostly what was the cause of that look on his face. Julian was the last person to get to Bradley, and pulled him into a hug, apologies spilling from his lips.

“I’m so sorry Bradley,” he said. “We had no idea – I mean, it was just a few words and – God, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks Julian,” Bradley said warmly, clapping him on the back. “It was interesting and – well, you got me back in the end.”

“Yes, thank goodness for that eh?” Julian laughed in relief, and Colin beamed and reached out to give Bradley’s arm a squeeze, only stopping when he saw that far-off, lost look in his eyes once again.

“Yes, thank goodness indeed.” Bradley smiled, but his eyes screamed out the opposite.

Later on, Colin, Katie and Angel were camped out in Bradley’s room, filling him in on what had happened while he was gone.

“We spent pretty much every waking hour trying to find a way to get you home,” Angel said between sips of celebratory beer.

“Which in Colin’s case was pretty much every hour of every day,” Katie said archly, giving Colin a LOOK.

Colin shifted, took a gulp of his drink and said, “I…I just needed to do something.”

He glanced at Bradley, and something twisted in his stomach at the soft, almost adoring way Bradley was looking at him. The moment they made eye contact though, Bradley blinked and his expression momentarily darkened, before he beamed and tipped his drink in Colin’s direction.

“Cheers mate, I’d do the same for you.”

“Aww, I missed these moments between you boys.” Katie cooed, causing Colin to flush and Bradley to scowl.

“Wench,” Bradley growled, but he was more gentle and less playful than usual when he pulled her into a loose headlock.

Katie laughed and gave him a gentle poke in the side. They settled down, Katie with her head on Bradley’s shoulder, and Bradley with his arm around her waist.

“So who found the spell to get me back?” Bradley asked after a few moments of silence.

“Tony.” Angel grinned and Bradley laughed in delight.

“I’ll be sure to thank him, and remind him every day.” He chuckled, and Colin smiled, happy to see him looking more relaxed and carefree.

‘It must have been the shock of coming home,’ he thought as he reflected on Bradley’s strange moods. ‘He’ll be right as rain in a few days.’

“So, magic eh? Blimey, who’d have thought that spell would actually work?” Bradley said a while later, during a lull in conversation.

“I know, it was shocking,” Colin said. “One second you were there, the next, POOF! Gone. Poor Julian, he was in a right state.”

“And rightly so.” Katie sniffed. “It was his idea after all.”

*****

(Part 1)

Listen to my station on Blip.fm! on Blip

phys_nut — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 15:12:24 GMT

Listen to my station on Blip.fm!

Dóchas Materpost

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 22:05:43 GMT

Title: Dóchas

Author: phys_nut

Beta: lost_stray_cat

Pairing/s: Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

Rating: R

Word Count: 27,247

Warning(s): Religious themes, Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

Summary: After his wife is killed, Uther quits being a reverend and turns his back on God and religion. Arthur follows his father’s hatred, until he meets Merlin, a trainee priest, who takes it upon himself to help Arthur foster his own faith and belief.

Art link: Can be found HERE by the utterly fabulour jhava ! maow maow MAOW! This is absolutely lush, I feel so honoured to have had this piece created for my story!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own the BBC's Merlin or the Arthurian Legend, I'm just borrowing them for a little fun! No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.

Author's Notes: First of all, I’d like to give a big GIGANTIC thank you! To my beta lost_stray_cat , she is an absolute goddess for putting up with my throwing stories at her out of nowhere, and this story wouldn’t be half as brilliant(and grammatically correct/free of bad spelling) if it wasn’t for her! :D Secondly I’d like to thank frellen_rocks , who has been my bestest friend, cheerleader, hand-holder and shoulder to cry on/rant at – you’re an absolute babe frellen for putting up with my moaning and giving me loads of head-swelling compliments to keep me writing! A giant GIANT thank you to jhava , my artist, who created one of the most spectacular pieces I’ve seen – I literally couldn’t imagine a better piece of art to accompany my story, they were made for each other! I wanna give a big shout out to all the peeps at paperpushers, who have been a great source of inspiration and motivation when I was ready to give up! I’d also like to thank all my non-LJ friends, who had to put up with MONTHS of my moaning, procrastination and blabbering about Merlin! Lastly, I’d like to give a giant thank you to the mods who organised this wonderful fest, you people are absolute stars!!

This story was both a joy and a PAIN to write – I’ve never actually managed to get such a large story written in such a short space of time (I thought I was nearly done at 17,000 words and would just about scrape the 20,000 mark when it just suddenly BLEW up with only 2 weeks to go, leaving me a quivering mess of a writer), and such a personal one too (being Irish and catholic meant that a lot of my personal feelings and opinions ended up in this in one way or another), and I am so glad I decided to take part! This story is quite a lot like life – mostly serious with moments of crack thrown in (the goldfish wake is taken from a RL experience), as I’m unable to write purely in one sort of genre.

Oh and if anyone's interested, Dóchas is the Irish for Hope.

Right, sorry to take up your time! Please read, and I hope you enjoy my story! :D

(prologue) (part 1) (part 2) (part3) (part 4) (part5) (part 6) (part 7) (notes)

Dóchas Prologue

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:46:22 GMT

Arthur’s first memories are a mixture of hazy images, sounds and smells, but the one thing that stands out in sharp relief is the image of his father, dressed in his vestments and standing at the pulpit, preaching down at the congregation with determined passion. Arthur remembers sitting at the front of the church with his mother, staring up in awe; not quite understanding the meaning behind the words that washed over him, but being swept away by the emotion behind them none-the-less. Ygraine would wrap her arm around Arthur’s shoulder, smile proudly up at Uther and after the service, would always give him a hug and a kiss, and tell her husband that he had done a wonderful job. Those were easy days for Arthur, full of play and church and loving his parents: his mother’s serenity balancing out his father’s bright passion. That set of memories is one of the best of Arthur’s life.

The next set, not so much.

Primarily, Arthur remembers pain and fear, and overwhelming sadness. Then anger.

***

Arthur was at Sunday School when it happened: Ygraine went to the shop to buy tea bags and biscuits for the women’s prayer group meeting, and it was there that a teenage drug addict (Arthur years later found out that her name was Nimueh, and she had attended one of his mother’s support groups) held the shop at gunpoint, while she screamed for money to be put in a bag for her. Ygraine tried to talk to her, to calm her down, but the girl was in fits from withdrawal, and it only served to agitate her more. In between shrieks, the girl’s hand convulsed and suddenly seized up, causing the gun to go off. The girl grabbed what money she could and scarpered, and Ygraine fell to the ground, her stomach burst open.

Arthur remembers endless days and nights at the hospital on his knees beside his mother’s bed.

“Pray Arthur,” his father had said, a manic gleam in his eyes. “Pray to God for your mother, that she may be restored and returned to us.”

And pray Arthur did. He prayed harder for those three days than he ever did in his entire life, his eyes scrunched up tight, and his lips moving soundlessly. The steady beeping of the machines heralded the passing of time, the monotony broken up sporadically by visitors who brought food and flowers and lots of prayers. But in the end, it was all to be for naught. One day, the beeping sped up, spluttered, and then ground to a dull continuous tone.

“Ygraine? Ygraine darling no, darling come to me, you cannot leave me!” Uther cried out, holding his wife’s hand and stroking her face in a panicked manner.

“Mommy?” Arthur asked his eyes wide with confusion. “Mommy what’s wrong, are you okay?”

He patted his mother’s cheek and shook her arm, while his father sobbed and continued to beg his wife to come back.

“Mommy wake up! Daddy’s crying, and you’re really good at making him feel better.” Arthur pleaded.

The room was suddenly full of people who ripped Arthur from his mother’s side and started doing all sorts of strange things to her, while yelling at each other.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Arthur yelled, hot tears of confusion and sadness rolling down his cheeks.

Suddenly, strong arms surrounded him, and Uther murmured to him, “Stay strong Arthur, and pray for your mother.”

Arthur and Uther stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, and prayed with all their might as the doctors worked frantically to save Ygraine. Eventually though, the hubbub died down.

There was a sigh, and a voice said, “Call it.”

“Time of Death, 15.42.”

For the next two weeks, Arthur watched in fear as his father fell apart. He refused to get out of bed, refused to eat, and took to heavy drinking. At night, he was storming about the house, ranting and raving.

“I gave you everything! I gave you my life, my love, my devotion, and you take away the one thing I ask you not to! YOU BASTARD!”

Arthur generally curled up in bed, surrounded by his teddies during these times, and would try to block it all out.

One night, Uther crept into the room, eyes feverish and a crazy smile in place.

“Arthur, Arthur my boy, come with me. There’s something we must do.”

Petrified, Arthur tried to shrink away, but Uther got a hold of his arm, and dragged him out to the back door, where a fire was blazing. Nearby, was a pile of bibles and religious books, and a second pile of Uther’s vestments. Uther picked up a bible and handed it to Arthur, who looked at it with trepidation.

“God is evil and cruel and merciless Arthur, we must purge him from our lives.”

Not wanting to displease his father, Arthur shuffled even closer to the fire and tossed the book in, wincing as it hissed and crackled. Uther laughed and clapped his hands.

“Well done my boy!”

Encouraged, Arthur smiled and picked up another book, while Uther picked up a robe. Together they threw them in. Uther danced around the fire, and Arthur laughed, delighted to see his father so cheerful. Father and son continued to throw books and clothes into the fire, until everything was gone. Uther stared down at the fire, and then suddenly ripped his collar off, crushed it in his hand and threw it in. He then gathered Arthur up in his arms.

“It’s over now son.” He crooned. “We’re free.”

Arthur smiled, nodded and yawned; tucking his head into his father’s shoulder as Uther carried him to bed.

The next day, Uther was clean-shaven and looking normal again, minus his white collar. He greeted Arthur as usual, made him breakfast, and then informed his son that they were moving to a new home. Arthur was too happy to have his father back to care, though he did catch himself staring at the man sometimes, wondering what difference it was that he couldn’t see. It wasn’t until years later that Arthur would realise that the warm passion, which had graced his father, was now replaced with a cold bitterness.

Uther had everything sorted within the week, and that’s how Arthur found himself in a tiny blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town in the west of Ireland.

***

At first, things are the same for Arthur – Uther opens a bookshop in the middle of town, and though he no longer wears his collar or vestments, Arthur’s days are still languid and happy. However, there are differences.

Come autumn, Arthur must start school, where he makes friends, learns a new language, and for half an hour every day, gets the go to a different classroom for colouring. The teachers never seem happy about this, muttering about how it’s, “Unholy, depriving the child of his faith,” but Arthur is more focused on deciding what he would draw to think about what they are saying. The biggest change to Arthur’s life is that he no longer goes to mass. At first, this is brilliant – no more itchy shirts with tight trousers, no more getting up early on a Sunday. Sure, Arthur feels a little left out when his friends in school all talk about how they sat together in mass and told jokes, but he consoles himself with the knowledge that he has more freedom than they do. This freedom comes at a price though; at age six, when his class is going to make their First Communion, Arthur goes to his father to ask him why he’s not allowed to take part in it with his friends.

“Because neither God nor religion has a place in our lives,” Uther replies in a cold tone, not looking up from his accounts book.

“Why?”

“Because God is cruel and unjust, and anything that encourages the worship of such a demon is corrupt and vile.”

“Why?”

Uther sighs in obvious frustration, and then fixes a steely gaze on his son as he asks, “Arthur, how much did you love you mother?”

“I loved her with all my heart.” Arthur replies honestly.

“God knew that,” Uther says darkly, taking hold of Arthur’s shoulder in a vice-like grip. “He knew that we loved her and needed her, and he took her from us anyway. He left us alone and bereft. That is why you should hate him Arthur, that is why I never want to hear God or religion spoken of again.”

“Yes father,” Arthur whispers, trying to wriggle out of Uther’s grip. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” Uther replies in a monotonous voice, letting go of him and immediately burying his head in his book again.

Like many children, the passage of time to Arthur is such that Ygraine is a nostalgic memory, which he prefers not to talk about. However, once her name and memory are brought back up again, he can’t help but weep as he remembers her gentle presence, her smiles and hugs and care that only a mother can give. And, as he remembers how she was taken away, his heart hardens, and he swears never to think or speak fondly of God again.

This time, when he’s taken out of class he understands why, and when the teachers mutter, he replies that he’d rather not waste his time on corruptible nonsense, which leads to more muttering and threats to call his father, but Arthur knows that his father terrifies them, and so, continues to provoke them. He takes to drawing himself and the Earth surrounded by black, entitling them, “Alone In This Universe,” and tells anyone who’ll listen that God isn’t real. This quite often leads to Arthur being put in the corner or sent out of the room, but he loftily declares that he’d rather not be around, “fraud believers,” anyway.

Arthur is eight when Morgana joins him and Uther; she turns up on their doorstep one night, a pale, drowned slip of sixteen years, who also turns out to be very angry and spiteful. She babbles for ten minutes straight about her father and death and a bunch of nonsense Arthur can’t understand, before bursting into loud tears, burying her head in Uther’s chest, and angrily declaring God, “an absolute shite,” and that she never wants to even think about him. Uther welcomes her to stay, promising he’ll take care of her, and so their angry God-hating family is complete.

Arthur learns that Morgana’s father, Gorlois, and his, were best friends, and even went to the same seminary, before Gorlois moved to Ireland while Uther stayed in England. Morgana’s mother died during childbirth, and Gorlois had used his faith to keep himself and his daughter strong, but when he died from a heart attack, Morgana went mad with grief, and remembering her father tell her about Uther and his own hatred, had run away and tracked him down. Arthur, never having had a sibling, doesn’t know what to make of her – Morgana has a sharp tongue and a sarcastic nature – but all too soon, they fall into a natural pattern of bickering and being extremely competitive, while getting along extremely well despite the age difference.

As Arthur grows, he learns the art of sneering and cutting remarks from Morgana, and bitterness and hatred from Uther. His inner dislike of God evolves into outright bullying of anyone who opposes his beliefs. He takes to openly condemning anyone who believes in God or practises religion, so much so that he ends up isolating himself from most of the community. A few boys though, sick of the repressed Catholic nature of the town, immediately gravitate towards him, and the band of boys run amuck through the town, causing trouble and being “unholy terrors.” Uther receives many complaints about his son, but simply shakes his head and replies, “Boys will be boys,” and later share a laugh with Arthur over his antics. Lately, Morgana has taken to shaking her head and frowning disapprovingly at him. Arthur doesn’t know what’s going on with her, other than now that she’s twenty-two, she’s decided to be grown up and mature, aka “shove a stick up her arse.”

One day, after Arthur and his friends wrote over the board outside the church so that the sermon of the mass was, “Why bother: God doesn’t even know you exist,” Morgana turns to him and hisses, “Nach bhfuil aon cineal i do cheann?”

“English only at the dinner table please.” Uther chastises, as he dishes out the potatoes.

“Sorry.” Morgana apologies. “I was asking Arthur if there was any sense in his head.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because of what he and his goons did.” Morgana snaps. “Vandalism is cruel and unnecessary.”

“Telling the truth is always necessary. Arthur was perfectly reasonable doing what he did.”

Arthur smirks and sticks his tongue out at Morgana, who glowers at him, before immediately zoning back in on Uther.

“They don’t push their beliefs on us, why should we push our beliefs on them?”

“Mine is not a belief, it is a truth.” Uther snaps icily.

“No, to YOU it’s a truth, just like to priests, their God is a truth.” Morgana replies just as icily.

“Enough!” Uther roars, “You will not speak of that in my house!”

“Just because you don’t like what I’m saying doesn’t mean you can turn into a tyrant on me.” Morgana shouts back. “It’s one thing to have a lack of faith and a dislike of God, but to possess an outright hatred of anyone who even says the word is pure madness!”

“I will not stand for this insolence,” Uther growls. “Get out of my sight.”

“With pleasure,” Morgana says nastily, before pushing her chair back and storming off.

“Brat,” Uther mutters stubbornly.

“Sycophantic maniac!” Morgana yells, before the door to her room slams shut.

The whole time they have been fighting, Arthur frowns down at his potatoes and tries to inconspicuously eat his dinner. These fights between Morgana and Uther have become more and more frequent lately. They had started about two years ago, when Morgana had, as a laugh, taken up a philosophy module as part of her English and Music degree. Suddenly, she was all about, “opening my mind to all possibilities, to examine everything about myself, to question all I can.” It turned out that this questioning included questioning every single one of Uther’s opinions and beliefs. At first, Uther was delighted, jumping right into the spirit of the debate, and for a brief, shining moment, Arthur caught a glimpse of the bright, passionate man he thought he had only dreamt of. But then, religion was mentioned. Uther immediately shut up and refused to speak about it, and when Morgana pushed him about it, he roared at her, prompting her to roar back, and the two would be left red-faced and glaring at each other. They could never stay mad at each other though, and Arthur would often find them hours after a fight, hugging or curled up together on the sofa, apologising wordlessly, both too proud to say anything aloud. At first, Arthur found it amusing, but now, he’s sick and tired of it, and wishes they would just learn to live in peace with each other.

“Ignore Morgana,” Uther says smoothly, after a few minutes of silence. “She’s just…being difficult. Women’s problems or something like that, I would imagine.”

Arthur “hmms,” and nods, concentrating on swallowing past the lump in his throat that is the horror of hearing his father utter the words “women’s problems.”

Father and son finish their meal in relative silence, and as they clean up, Uther clears his throat and in a very awkward tone, suggests to Arthur that perhaps vandalism isn’t entirely proper. Arthur bites back the argument bubbling on the tip of his tongue and simply nods. As he’s going to his room later on, Morgana’s door opens, and she pokes her head out to smirk at him and stick her tongue out, before disappearing back inside.

Most of the time, Arthur thinks that Morgana is a bit of a nut-bag, but there are times, if he’s being honest with himself, he admits she’s got a point. Arthur has seen Uther go absolutely batshit insane over his hatred of God, and there are times Arthur wonders if maybe Uther’s lack of faith has cost him something precious.

When Arthur’s sixteen, he’s going through some of his father’s old things, looking for anything useful for a fancy dress party, when he finds an old photograph of Ygraine, Uther, and his toddler self. His younger self is pulling a face, while Uther and Ygraine are laughing at the camera. Arthur stares at the photo, something tightening in his chest at the sight of his mother, so beautiful and ALIVE, and his father, looking so young and carefree. The Uther in this picture is relaxed and completely happy, and Arthur has trouble reconciling this image with the father he has now, who is constantly frowning, and who’s eyes are bitter and slightly dead looking. Looking over the picture, Arthur’s stomach clenches when he spies his father’s white collar and it hits him: that was Uther when he had faith in God. As stubborn as Uther is when it comes to his disbelief, and as vindictive as he is about his feelings towards God, Arthur truly wonders if maybe Uther was better off with his blind faith. This leads him to wondering what his life might have been like if he had been raised by a faith-filled father. Would he have been happy living ignorant of God’s true cruelty? Would he still have felt alone or abandoned, or would he be stronger believing that there was always someone with him? As much as he would like to daydream, or talk to someone about his ideas about faith, Arthur knows what he knows and feels far too set in his way to ever truly change. He does however, stop actively condemning people, and keeps his lack of faith to himself, earning grateful smiles and puzzled looks from Morgana and Uther respectively.

(part 1)

Dóchas Part 1

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:44:46 GMT

When Arthur’s eighteen, he notices something very odd – Morgana is up earlier than he is on Sundays. Normally, on workdays, this wouldn’t be strange at all, but on Sundays, Morgana loved nothing more than sleeping in until about 1pm. Therefore, when four Sundays pass when Morgana is up before 10am, Arthur immediately grows suspicious.

“Cad atá ag tharla?” he asks the next day when they’re on their lunch break. “Dhusaigh tu go luath inne.”

“Nothing is happening.” Morgana answered in Irish, “I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Growing up near the Gaeltacht area meant that Morgana and Arthur are fluent in Irish, a fact they find most useful when they want to talk about things they don’t want Uther to know about. They tell Uther they are practising for exams, and being that he can’t understand a word they are saying, he believes them.

“You, not able to sleep? Bullshit.” Arthur snorts. “You’re up to something.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you.”

“Then I’m telling you I’m up to nothing,” Morgana replies sweetly.

Arthur scowls and plots all sorts of nefarious ways to make Morgana tell him, then decides that the simplest approach is best.

“So Morgana, I noticed that you’ve been getting up early the past few Sundays, any particular reason?” He asks nonchalantly at dinner that night.

Both Uther and Morgana pause, forks halfway to their mouths, Uther looking curiously at Morgana, who glares at Arthur, before schooling her features.

“I’ve taken up jogging,” she replied demurely, then turns to Uther as she adds, “It helps me deal with extra stress and to think and question things alone.”

“Ah yes, jolly good.” Uther beams. “Healthy body, healthy mind and all that.”

He suddenly looks concerned and leans towards her, asking, “You’re not having nightmares again, are you?”

Morgana had suffered from terrible nightmares when she had first stayed with Uther and Arthur, and Arthur shudders still at the memories of her terrified screams.

“Oh heavens no,” Morgana says reassuringly, patting Uther’s hand. “Don’t worry; I just fancy a bit of exercise.”

“Very well then.” Uther nods, giving her hand a squeeze before getting back to dinner.

Morgana shoots Arthur a smug look, which only serves to fuel Arthur’s desire to know just what is going on.

Said desire is exactly what causes him to find himself, crouching in bed at 7am next Sunday, listening to Morgana bustling about her room and the kitchen. At 7.30, Arthur hears the front door open and close, and peaks out his window to see Morgana tottering down the road in a skirt suit and heels.

“I KNEW she wasn’t going jogging,” he mutters to himself triumphantly.

As tempted as he is to follow her, Arthur knows that she’ll spot him immediately, and so goes about getting himself breakfast and eating it while watching the television, waiting. At 8.30, the front door opens, and Arthur stands as Morgana creeps into the living room.

“You forgot something,” he drawls, holding up a pair of her runners.

Morgana freezes, eyes staring in shock at him, and Arthur can see the cogs going ‘tick-tick-tick,’ trying to think of an escape. Not wanting to let her think of one, Arthur quickly continues talking.

“Though I can’t really figure out how one can go jogging in a skirt and heels. Perhaps Uther would be able to help us ou-”

“All right all right!” Morgana hisses, grabbing Arthur’s wrist in a painful grip and dragging him into her room.

Once in, she lets go and starts pacing up and down, eyes darting about frantically, while Arthur lounges on her bed with an air of smug superiority.

“Come on, out with it,” he says gloatingly. “What are you up to? I bet it’s bad if you’re hiding it from Uther.”

“I… I…”

Morgana’s mouth works silently a few moments more before she snaps it shut and sighs uneasily.

“Well go on then-”

“I’m going to mass.”

“You’re… WHAT?”

“I’ve been going to mass the past few Sundays.”

“But… but you don’t believe in – in ANY of it!”

“I know!” Morgana cries, then softens her voice as she adds, “At least, I didn’t…I don’t know, it’s kind of… nice to start learning to have faith.”

Arthur stares at her, his mind absolutely boggled. This is Morgana – sure, she’s uptight, prim, and proper at times, but she’s always had a bigger vendetta against God than he did!

“How did this happen?”

“I made some new friends at the night course I’m doing. Two of them, Gwen and Lance, are really involved in the Church,” Morgana replies. “At first, I didn’t want to hear about it, but then…they always seem so happy and lively, and passionate about everything, and when I asked them why, they told me it’s because they believe that God gave them something precious, and they want to make the most of it. It’s like their faith made them better people. I got curious and decided to go to mass with them.”

“W-… what’s it like?” Arthur asks hesitantly.

“It was very strange at first, but now… it’s comforting, and reassuring. There’s a great feeling of togetherness, and you can talk to anyone, and the priest, Father Gaius, is always there for questions on faith and belief.”

Morgana turns her gaze to Arthur, and he flinches at the open, honest look on her face.

“You should come with me next week,” she says earnestly. “I think you’d like it.”

Arthur doesn’t know who this person in front of him is, doesn’t know where his biting, angry, sarcastic Morgana is, and all he wants is to get away.

“No.” He spits out. “Absolutely not.”

He jumps off the bed and edges around the room until he reaches the door.

“But Arthur, I think it could help y-”

“Stop it!” Arthur snaps. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Morgana’s face falls and she turns her back on Arthur, who tries not to wince at the hurt look on her face. Instead, he opens the door and turns to leave.

“Will you tell Uther?” Morgana asks softly.

Arthur pauses, then answers, “No. But you just keep this to yourself.”

“Okay.”

Over the next few weeks, Arthur barely speaks two words to Morgana, who likewise returns the favours. He feels angry, distrustful, and most of all, betrayed. Morgana was his peer, his confidant, his ally in the war against religion, and now she’s crossed over to the other side. Arthur has never felt more alone. He wants to ignore her, shut her out, but he finds himself unable to, and soon enough, he can’t help but notice a subtle, but definite change in Morgana. She’s relaxed, almost peaceful, and smiles more often. She still bickers with him and fights with Uther, but it isn’t half as much as usual. It suddenly hits Arthur: she’s happy. Not in a “sunshine, skipping through daisy fields with puppies,” happy, but a deep, down-to-her-soul contentment.

He wonders what it must feels like to be that content with oneself, and these thoughts turn to curiosity about faith, and how it seems to fill people up with joy. Uther taught him long ago that to have faith in anything was to blind yourself to its possible dangers, but Arthur thinks that perhaps … he’s wrong.

Eventually, Arthur’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he waits in the sitting room one Sunday morning, dressed in trousers and a shirt.

“Okay, I want in,” he says, as she walks into the room.

Morgana regards him strangely, before she nods and asks, “What made you change your mind?”

“You,” Arthur replies. “You’re all happy and… stuff. I want to see what the big deal is.”

Morgana considers this, then nods and head out of the front door, Arthur following. They walk to the church in silence, Arthur feeling a strange pull and tightening in his chest as the large grey building looms ahead. As they approach the gate, Morgana stops and takes Arthur’s hand.

Giving it a squeeze, she smiles at him and says gratefully, “Thank you.”

Arthur nods in acknowledgement, and then follows her into the church. It’s dim and cool inside, and perfumed smoke tickles the back of Arthur’s throat. There are people scattered about the church, sitting on or kneeling at, long wooden benches, and up the top of the room, Arthur can see small boys and girls in robes arranging things on a large marble table, behind which is a golden box, and a giant statue of a man in a loincloth nailed to a cross. Arthur makes a small face at this, and turns his head away, concentrating on Morgana’s back as she makes her way over to the side of the room.

They take a seat beside a very attractive couple: a woman with caramel skin, dark curly hair and large brown eyes, and a man with slightly lighter skin, shoulder-length black hair and equally soulful brown eyes.

Morgana hugs both of them, and then gestures towards Arthur as she says, “Gwen, Lance, this is Arthur. Arthur, these are my friends Gwen and Lance.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Arthur says, plastering a smile on his face as he shakes both their hands.

“And you.” Lance smiles in return.

“We’re so glad you could come Arthur, Morgana’s told us so much about you,” Gwen enthuses.

“Nothing bad I hope.” Arthur jokes nervously.

“Oh no. Well, she told us you don’t believe in a kind God… Not that that’s a bad thing! Just, um, different, but different can be good!”

Arthur genuinely laughs at Gwen’s babbling, and holds a hand up entreatingly.

“It’s perfectly fine Gwen,” he says warmly. “I know my beliefs seem strange; but I’m open to see what else is out there.”

Gwen blushes and smiles. She, Lance and Morgana start talking, something about a RCIA, so Arthur tunes them out in favour of looking around the church. The walls are bare, and the windows are stained glass, depicting pictures of people with soft features and benign expressions. Up above him, and organ starts to play, and he can hear sounds of a choir warming up. As he looks around, Arthur notices people glancing at him suspiciously, most surreptitiously, some openly. He shifts in his seat, feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome, though he reasons that he deserves the looks after how he’s acted through the years. He tries to smile winningly at them, but they just give him dark looks back.

Shrugging, Arthur looks up front, trying to quell the nervous fluttering in his stomach. All of a sudden, the organ booms out a tune, and everyone stands as the choir starts to sing. Arthur follows suit, looking about himself curiously, until a door at the top of the church opens, and a few people walk out: two boys and a girls in white robes, followed by two men – one, an old man in white and red robes, the other, a young man in a suit. They three children and young man take a seat at the side of the altar while the old man stands behind it.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” the priest begins, his right hand touching his forehead, chest, left and then right shoulder, before clasping it with his left.

“Good morning everyone,” he says, smiling down at the congregation.

“Good morning father,” the crowd murmurs back.

Arthur awkwardly tries to copy along with everyone else, but his interest is mostly focused on the young man at the side of the room. He can’t help but wonder who he is and why he’s up there.

As if hearing his thoughts, the priest continues, saying, “Before we begin the service, I’d like to introduce Merlin Emrys, a new trainee from the seminary in the next diocese.”

The priest gestures to the man, who stands and walks over beside him, his posture perfect and confident.

“Thank you Father Gaius.” Merlin smiles at the priest, and then turns that blinding grin to the congregation. “Hello everyone, I would like to say thank you for accepting me into your community, and I look forward to getting to know you all. This is my first parish since I started in the seminary four years ago, I’m glad I will be able to complete my final year here. Thank you.”

Merlin nods, smiles at Father Gaius and walks back to where he had been sitting.

“Okay, let’s begin with the opening prayer,” Father Gaius instructs. “I pray to God for guidance…”

Arthur stumbles through the service, his thoughts too scattered to pay close attention. He did admit, if only to himself, that Morgana was right about it being relaxing; the songs were gentle and calming, and the prayers rhythmic and soothing. However, his mind was mostly elsewhere, focused on Merlin, who was watching the mass with rapt attention, a soft smile on his lips. Arthur can’t help but stare, trying to figure out why someone so young would want to throw their life away like this. As he puzzles over Merlin’s questionable state of mind, Arthur soon realises that his curious gaze has shifted into something a little softer, a little more wondering. It lingers on the nape of his neck, where his hair curls softly, the curve of his rather large, but nibbleable ears, his sharp cheekbones which accentuate his soft mouth and large Bambi-like eyes. Honestly, the various different parts that make Merlin up should not work together, they really shouldn’t. But they did, and though Arthur realises he should most definitely NOT be checking out someone so tightly bound to religion, there’s something about Merlin that just draws him in, makes him want to stare, and let his mind wander, imagine…

He’s snapped out of his reverie by the thunderous sound of the organ and everyone rising to their feet, Merlin included. Arthur blinks and stands, turning to Morgana, who watches him with an odd look in her eye.

“So, what did you think?” She asks him innocently.

“Oh, um… It was interesting,” Arthur mumbles. “Very relaxing, with the em, chants and whatnot.”

“Really?” Morgana arches a brow. “I’m surprised you noticed anything given you spent the entire service staring at that trainee priest, what’s his name, Marvin?”

“Merlin,” Arthur replies automatically, cursing himself when Morgana’s eyes light up and she smirks.

“Oh yes, Merlin.” She corrects herself in a delighted tone.

She smiles all too knowingly at him, and he hurries to defend himself.

“I just can’t understand why someone would want to throw their life away like that.”

Morgana bursts out laughing and replies, “Oh yes, I’m sure that’s exactly why you were staring at him like he was a piece of meat.”

Arthur fights valiantly to keep from blushing, but is thwarted in the end.

He had come bursting out of the closet when he was sixteen, not because of raging hormones and a need to rebel, or because he was in the midst of a red-hot affair with a forbidden man, but because he’d had a dream. It had been a rather erotic dream, involving himself and a faceless male figure, doing all sorts of things that Arthur hadn’t even known people could do. He’d woken up hard and flushed, and after a wank and some serious thought, he’d simply said, “Oh,” and had promptly gone downstairs to tell Uther and Morgana, because if there was one thing Arthur prided himself on, it was his honesty. Uther and Morgana had been delighted; Uther because homosexuality was against nearly every type of religion, and Morgana because she could take him shopping and guy watching, and could prance about him in her underwear just to piss him off. She claimed she didn’t care who saw, but oddly enough, she never did this when Uther was around, and Arthur enjoyed the times when she would squeak and go bright red before running into her room when she heard him coming in the house. One thing though, that Morgana had never gotten to do was tease Arthur about having a crush, because thus far, Arthur had never had a crush on anyone. This naturally had lead to Morgana questioning his sexuality several times over the past two years.

“I don’t need to have a crush on a man to reaffirm my sexuality,” he tells her every time. “I know who I am.”

It isn’t that Arthur is fussy or blind or anything, he does notice other men – Mr. Rathbourne, his woodwork teacher, made lessons more than interesting, and out of his friends (who, thankfully had been very open and accepting at his revelation), Gawain and Pell are fairly easy on the eyes. So while he does notice attractive men, he’s always been very careful and subtle about it… Until now that is, because Merlin is unlike any other person Arthur has come across before.

Morgana eyes Arthur with radiant delight, and starts to outright cackle. Arthur rolls his eyes and walks away from Morgana, and Gwen and Lance, who are looking at them curiously.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asks Morgana.

“Oh nothing.” Morgana smirks. “Arthur finally has a crush, and I have teasing and gloating material for the next several months if I’m lucky.”

“Oh! Who’s it on?” Gwen asks, probably more exited on Arthur’s behalf than for the gossip and teasing factor, Morgana thinks fondly.

“It’s on Merlin.” She replies triumphantly.

Her good mood fades slightly at the shocked looks on her friends’ faces.

“Merlin?” Lance asks quietly.

“Yes,” Morgana replies matter-of-factly. “Merlin. Who’s not a bad looking guy you know.”

“Oh no, of course he’s not,” Gwen replies, flustered. “So um, Arthur is…”

“Gay,” Morgana says bluntly. “Is there a problem?”

Morgana loves Gwen and Lance to absolute death, they’re her best friends, but she knows that she wouldn’t hesitate to run them through if it meant defending Arthur. Arthur and Uther are her family, and while she has never considered Uther her father (he’s something else entirely, something unknown and terrifying and exhilarating all at once), Arthur, to all intents and purposes, is her little brother, and she is fiercely loyal to him.

“Oh no, no problem at all,” Gwen stammers. “It’s just a bit of a shock is all, because well, Arthur doesn’t look very… anyway, never mind, after all, to thine own self be true. And besides! Jesus would never be happy with us, and doesn’t it say, let he who is without sin cast the first stone?”

“What Gwen means is that Jesus told us to love and respect one another, and put no stipulations on it.” Lance explains.

Gwen smiles gratefully up at him, and then suddenly looks concerned.

“Arthur wouldn’t um, try anything, would he?” She asks hesitantly.

“Oh goodness no!” Morgana laughs. “Arthur might fancy Merlin, but right now his main thought concerning him is that he’s either mental, or a total eejit for wanting to devote himself to a religious order.”

“Ah.” Gwen nods, and then adds, “And speaking of which, I’ve got to go, I’ve been assigned as Merlin’s guidance counsellor through his final year.”

“She was chosen ahead of anyone else.” Lance adds proudly.

Gwen flushes prettily, beaming, and Morgana hugs her, saying, “That’s brilliant Gwen! We should go out to celebrate – lunch tomorrow? My treat.”

“You don’t make enough money to buy me lunch.” Gwen laughs, not unkindly. “You could though, if you used your degree to get a better job – you’re overqualified for the bookshop.”

“Uther needs me,” Morgana replies loftily, “and besides, I get the hours and holidays I want.”

“Sure, that’s the reason you stay – the holidays.” Gwen sighs, shaking her head, while Lance smothers a laugh with a cough.

Morgana sends them a LOOK, then sighs and says, “Anyway, must be off, before Arthur storms home without me and wakes Uther up. Good luck with your counselling.”

“Thanks.” Gwen smiles. “We’ll see you on Monday eh?”

“Sure thing.”

Morgana hugs them both, and then leaves the church, following Arthur, who she sees walking slowly away.

“So, are you coming back next weekend?” She asks, once she’s caught up with him.

Arthur’s silent for the next few minutes, and Morgana waits patiently, walking beside him.

“I suppose it would be unfair not to give it a fair shot,” Arthur eventually answers.

“Glad to hear it.” Morgana smiles. “Come on, let’s get home before Uther gets up.”

*****

Merlin’s talking to angels when Father Gaius finds him. Well, ‘talking’ is an exaggeration – it’s more like he’s reaching out to them, and feels their warmth and love in response. He had been feeling people staring at him all through mass, and had escaped to the priest’s garden to sit and meditate and lose himself in unconditional love. It’s something he’s always been able to do – his mother had discovered it when he was two: she had walked into his room, and had screamed at the sight of her son surrounded by large, floating, glowing white creatures. As he grew, Hunith simply had become used to seeing them, and when Merlin was old enough, he had told her that they were angels sent by God, and he knew in his heart that he would devote his life to him, in one way or another.

Father Gaius rounds the corner of the church, to where the garden is, and stops short at the sight of his new student, sitting cross-legged on the grass, surrounded by floating white beings.

“What the-”

He stops himself, because he knows “devil,” is entirely the wrong word to use in this situation, but he needn’t have continued – at the first noise, Merlin is up, bright red, and trying to explain himself.

“Father Gaius!” He stutters. “I can, um, I can explain.”

Father Gaius raises a brow and says, “I should hope so. Come my boy, let us go for a walk, and you can explain.”

He doesn’t wait, simply starts walking into the heart of the garden, and Merlin quickly catches up, his long strides slowing and shortening to match those of his mentor’s. They walk in silence for a while, before Merlin begins to explain about the angels, and God’s love and everything he’s known all his life.

“I see,” Father Gaius says, once he’s finished. “Is there anyone else who knows about your… ability?”

“My mother,” Merlin replies, “and Will, an old friend and my first counsellor.”

Father Gaius hums and nods, mulling over all this new information.

Eventually, he turns to Merlin and says, “Perhaps it is best if you don’t tell anyone about this – people can be very superstitious and mistrusting.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.” Merlin assures him.

“Good.” Father Gaius nods. “Anyway, it’s time for you to meet your new councillor.”

Father Gaius leads Merlin back to the church, and into the sacristy, where a woman, around Merlin’s age, maybe older, stands washing some sacred vessels in the sacrarium.

“Gwen my dear, you don’t need to worry about that,” Father Gaius calls out.

The woman jumps and spins around, cheeks flushed.

“Father Gaius!” She stutters. “I was just helping, not that I don’t think you can do it yourself, you’re more than capable, but you’ve got two more masses and they can be tiring…”

“It’s quite all right dear.” Father Gaius smiles fondly, raising a hand. “Why don’t you come over here and meet Merlin.”

“Oh! Hello.” Gwen smiles, stepping forward and offering her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Merlin smiles back, shaking her hand, and feeling comfortable in her presence already.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Father Gaius says, stepping away. “Don’t forget – mass is in five minutes.”

“I’ll be there,” Merlin tells him, then takes a seat on the couch beside Gwen.

“I won’t keep you long.” Gwen assures him. “I just want to sort out when you’ll be available for our weekly meetings.”

“Oh, yes, um, is Tuesday all right?”

Gwen pulls a black organiser out of her bag and flips it open. She studies her schedule, then smiles and says, “Yes that’s perfect, say 5 o’clock?”

“Great.”

Merlin and Gwen chat for a few minutes more, Merlin telling her about moving from Armagh to go to a seminary in Sligo, and Gwen telling him about the town; who attends mass on a regular basis, when different events were on, and where he could get the best tea and cake. Eventually, they hear the sounds of the organ warming up, and stand to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday yeah? And don’t forget to try out Moira’s,” Gwen tells him, giving him and quick hug.

“I won’t,” Merlin replies. “Have a good day.”

Gwen exits out the back door, and Merlin goes to find Gaius and prepare for mass.

*****

(part 2)

Dóchas Part 2

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:43:26 GMT

Arthur spends the rest of the morning out the back of the house, with his sliotar and hurl, smacking the small leather ball up and down the field, carrying it on the flat of the hurl, ducking and twisting around imaginary opponents, and scoring points and goals⁽¹⁾. He keeps going and going, until his mind is blank, void of all thoughts of mass, God or pale, skinny trainee priests. At that stage, his legs are trembling, and his lungs are working furiously to inhale and exhale. Tossing his gear in his room, he goes for a long, hot shower, and on his way back to his room, bumps into his father.

“Arthur, have you thought any more about university?” Uther asks him, eyeing him in the way only parents can when they expect to be disappointed. “I know how stressful your Leaving Certificate was, and I understand the need for taking a year off, but you must have an education. You know your CAO form⁽²⁾ is due in two months time, have you even given it any thought?”

“Of course I have,” Arthur replies, all eager wide eyes and enthusiasm. “I’m just trying to whittle down my list of choices.”

“Very well.” Uther nods.

He gives Arthur a small smile, claps him on the back, and continues down the hallway. Arthur sighs in relief and hurries to his room. What he had just told Uther is total bollocks – Arthur hasn’t given a moment’s thought to his college choices since he was handed his CAO form and booklet the previous year. While a part of him wishes he had chosen some bullshit course at UCG so he could have gone off with Pell and the lads to live up the student life, a bigger part knows he wouldn’t have been happy unless he was doing something he really wanted to do. And therein lies the problem – just what does he want to do? Arthur sighs and opens his desk drawer. He reaches in and pulls out his form and booklets, and gazes at them long and hard. Right.

While growing old is compulsory, and growing up is optional, there are certain things which must be done if one is to have any sort of peaceful life, and for Arthur, that is deciding on a college course. Arthur knows that if any sort of decision is to be made, he’s going to need tea, and lots of it. And probably some cake too.

“Right,” Arthur mutters to himself, “Moira’s it is then.”

He dries himself and gets dressed, then gathers his things together. On the way out, he finds Morgana and Uther in the conservatory, playing Spit⁽³⁾, the two of them goading each other on, haggling and laughing uproariously.

“I’m going to Moira’s,” Arthur calls in as they reach a break in the game, “do you want anything?”

“Jam doughnuts,” they call simultaneously, neither looking away from the challenging stares they’re giving each other.

“Sure thing, back in a while,” Arthur calls, and walks off, trying to ignore the curl in his gut that occurs whenever he sees Uther and Morgana act a certain way around each other, because it means absolutely NOTHING.

Arthur makes his way to Moira’s, by total luck manages to snag a free table in the corner, sets his things up, and is humming and hawing by the counter over what cake to get, when the bell above the door tinkles and in walks Merlin. Arthur tries his best of to surreptitious, but knows that he is obviously staring. Hurriedly, he orders a slice of carrot cake and tea, and makes his way back to his table, where he buries his head in the university courses booklet. A few minutes later, he hears footsteps approaching his table, and thinking it’s his order, looks up into bright, oh so blue eyes that regard him quizzically.

“Sorry, do you mind if I sit here? All the other tables are taken and full,” Merlin asks apologetically.

Arthur automatically nods, and his brain curses while his heart melts at the grateful smile Merlin gives him, before sitting down and shrugging off his coat.

“I’m Merlin.”

“I know,” Arthur says, blushes and then quickly adds, “I saw you in mass this morning.”

“Oh! Good yes. Good sermon on judge not lest ye be judged, don’t you think, um?”

“Arthur,” Arthur tells him. “I didn’t really follow everything the priest was saying, but the sentiment was nice.”

“Arthur…” Merlin murmurs, as if trying to recall something.

His eyebrows quirk and he asks hesitantly, “You wouldn’t be… Morgana’s brother, would you?”

“Yes.” Arthur frowns. “How did you know?”

“Gwen’s my new counsellor,” Merlin tells him. “She told me about the town and her friends in church.”

“You have a counsellor?” Arthur can’t help but smirk.

“Not like that.” Merlin grins good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. “We just have someone who’s there for us when we’re in the seminary, and then during our time before ordination, just to talk with once a week about how we’re feeling, any problems we might have, and do we feel truly ready to commit ourselves to God.”

Arthur involuntarily makes a face at this, and Merlin says, a little hesitantly, “Gwen did mention that you don’t have…much faith?”

“You mean, I believe that God is cruel and merciless and we’d be better off not believing in him?”

“Well, yes.”

“I… have my own issues with God and religion.”

“What sort?”

Just then, their tea and cakes arrive. Arthur thanks the waitress, takes a bite of his cake and asks bluntly, “Why do you want to be a priest?”

Merlin, seemingly engrossed in stirring his tea, murmurs, “Because I want to devote myself to God.”

“Why?”

Merlin smiles in a bemused manner, and replies, “Because I have felt his love around me every day of my life, and truly believe that my act of love for him is to be his servant and vessel.”

“But why? Surely there are other things you would rather do with your life?”

Merlin starts, and looks up at Arthur sharply, but the bemused smile never leaves his lips. After a few moments, he says, “I’ll tell you something that not very many people know. Yes I grew up feeling God’s love, and believing completely in him, but for years, I believed that my vocation was to try and prove God’s existence through science.”

“What’s a vocation?” Arthur asks, trying to keep from laughing at the notion of mixing science and religion.

“It’s God’s calling for what you are to do with your life. And there’s no need to be a total gob and laugh about it.”

“Sorry.” Arthur coughs back a laugh, and puts on his best serious listening face. “Please go on.”

Mollified, Merlin continues. “Like I said, I believed my vocation was to have a career in science, while continuing to work in the church – giving out communion, cleaning, organising leaflets, that sort of thing. I was home from my third year of a physics degree, when a girl in my neighbourhood, Freya, became very ill and unstable – as it turn out, she was possessed. I went to the house one day to drop off a lasagne from mum, and to wish her well, when I felt myself being drawn to Freya. The moment I touched her arm, I felt this surge of knowing, and with a quick prayer, I exorcised her. People were freaked, as was I, and the next thing I knew, I had a letter from Bishop Kilgarrah, telling me that it was a calling from God, and inviting me to join the priesthood. I decided to give it a try, and the moment I set foot in the seminary, everything clicked. That was four years ago, and still, I know that this is what I’m meant to do.”

Merlin finishes, looking peaceful and happy, and Arthur, unsure and uncomfortable in the face of such faith, blurts out, “My mother was shot when I was five.”

Merlin regards him with wide, sympathetic eye, and Arthur, not knowing why he’s telling a stranger any of this, but feeling a release at being able to talk about this for the first time in over ten years, continues.

“My father was a reverend, and he and I spent three days straight praying for God to help her… but it didn’t work. She died, and I haven’t had any faith in anything since.”

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin clucks sympathetically, “that is very tragic, but it’s not God’s fault your mother died.”

“But we prayed, and he did nothing for her!”

“God tends to the soul, not the physical body. He is not all controlling.”

“Well, if we had not had much faith in God, perhaps my father and I wouldn’t have been as devastated when she died.”

“Do you honestly believe that Arthur?” Merlin asks, with a quirk of his brow.

Arthur silently mulls this over, while Merlin sips his tea and nibbles on his chocolate cake. Eventually, Arthur realises that no, he didn’t believe that. Whether he had prayed or not, he would have been completely heartbroken at the loss of Ygraine. He had just chosen to follow Uther in taking his subsequent anger out on the one thing that had given him hope and comfort during that awful time. Arthur feels something break all over again, but before he can figure it out, Merlin speaks again.

“You’re filling out your CAO form?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Arthur nods, then adds, “Well, trying to decide what course I want to do.”

“Ah. So you’re in sixth year?”

“No, got the Leaving over and done with the summer just past. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do, so I took a break.”

“It can be a tough decision.” Merlin agrees. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“Something to do with sports maybe.” Arthur shrugs. “I’m only eighteen; I don’t have a clue what I want to do with my life – not all of us have God whispering our vocation in our ear you know.”

Merlin chuckles and replies very much unsympathetically, “Isn’t it tragic for the confused and aimless eh?”

Arthur scowls and Merlin says in a bemused tone, “As I am neither, and have reached the ripe old age of twenty four, all I can say is do what you love and are enthusiastic about; the rest will fall into place.”

“Cheers Obi-Wan,” Arthur snarks.

“No problem Young Skywalker.” Merlin smirks.

Arthur laughs and tucks into his tea and cake, Merlin following suite. They finish up and pay, Arthur grabbing a packet of jam doughnuts, and walk outside together, giving each other smiles as they turn to say goodbye.

“Arthur…” Merlin hesitates and then plunges on. “I think you need to learn to see religion and faith differently. You were at church, so I’m guessing that you’d be open to it.”

“I guess…” Arthur replies slowly.

“Great. Then if you’re up for it, I’d like for us to meet up, once a week in the evening, to discuss God and religion.”

Arthur looks at Merlin’s expression; his bright eyes and eager smile, and finds he can’t say no. He also realises that he finds Merlin to be smart and funny, and fun and relaxing to be around, which is why he finds himself saying, “Okay, but only if we can have another evening to just hang out and be friends. I’d like to show you that there’s more to life than God.”

Merlin gives Arthur an appraising smile, and says, “Deal,” while sticking his hand out.

Arthur takes it, and feels something bloom in his chest as he shakes it.

“How about Wednesdays for chat, and Fridays for hanging?” Merlin suggests.

“Sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Arthur smiles.

The two men go their separate ways, each smiling and feeling a little flutter of hope and friendship.

*****

“Here you go,” Merlin says, handing Gwen a cup of tea as he takes a seat opposite her.

It’s their first session, and they’re in the sitting room of the priest’s house. Merlin’s tired from a day of lessons and practicals with Father Gaius, and slightly nervous about the session: yes, Gwen is an absolutely lovely person, but that didn’t necessarily mean that their sessions would go smoothly.

“So, how was your day?” Gwen asks pleasantly.

“Tiring, but all right,” Merlin replies. “Father Gaius has been working me pretty hard on the scriptures and psalms, but it’s enjoyable. How was yours?”

“It was good.” Gwen smiles. “Lance took me to see an art show over in Galway.”

“Nice.” Merlin nods. “So… do you have your set list of questions to ask me?”

“Actually,” Gwen says bashfully, “I was thinking of winging it and just making this more of a chat; might be more relaxing.”

“Oh good,” Merlin sighs in relief. “Will was the same; he hated the formality of what it was supposed to be.”

“Same here.” Gwen grins. “So Will was your previous counsellor?”

Merlin nods and tells her, “He was more than that too; he was my best friend, and when he heard I needed a councillor, he barged straight in to Father Geoffrey’s office and demanded the position.”

Merlin chuckles at the memory of his friend bursting into his room and yelling out proudly, “If I can’t convince you that you shouldn’t be doing this, then no one can.”

Gwen smiles into her tea as she takes a sip and then asks, “I don’t mean to be rude, but, why are you here? Father Gaius hasn’t had a student in years.”

“I’m going to specialise in exorcism,” Merlin tells her, “and Father Gaius is the highest expert in Ireland.”

Gwen’s jaw drops before she catches herself and says in a shocked tone, “Are you serious? Exorcisms are very dangerous.”

“Not with the Grace of God on your side,” Merlin tells her calmly. “All sorts of things like driving a car, or eating take away are dangerous, but we have faith that no harm will come to us.”

Gwen eyes him speculatively for a few moments, before smiling and nodding. They sip their tea in a comfortable silence, and after a few moments, Gwen clears her throat and decides to get down to business.

“So how are you feeling about being out of the seminary?”

“It’s okay,” Merlin replies. “It’s a little strange to have a room to myself again, and be in such a quiet place, but I’m adjusting. I do miss my friends.”

“Oh? Anyone in particular?” Gwen asks curiously, but Merlin detects a strange edge underneath it.

“No,” he replies with a shake of his head, “I didn’t have any particularly close friends in the seminary. There was a group of us – Cedrice, Valient, Mordred and myself, who shared a room, and were tutored by Brother Alaric and Sister Morgause, and I talked to some other students at meal times, but honestly my only close friend is Will.”

“Ah yes, Will,” Gwen murmurs. “Tell me about him; what’s he like?”

Merlin frowns at the slight tenseness in Gwen’s shoulders, and replies, “I met Will ten years ago when I first moved to Ireland; he’s obnoxious and opinionated, and we became instant friends. He was Catholic by birth and little else, but when I started going to mass he joined me, purely so he could argue with me about it afterwards. In time, I helped him develop a sense of faith in God, but even when I joined the seminary, he still continued to try and persuade me to leave.”

“Why?”

“He believed I was wasting my youth and ‘viril malehood,’ as he put it,” Merlin explains with a grin. “He tried dragging me out to strip clubs, throwing women at me; he even threw himself at me, which amused his girlfriend to no end, but eventually, he relented and agreed that God is the only one for me.”

Gwen chuckles and visibly relaxes, and Merlin smiles, feeling like he’s passed some sort of test.

“Will sounds like a good friend.”

“He’s annoying,” Merlin laughs, “but he has my best intentions at heart.”

“How does he feel about you being here?”

“He’s a bit put out, but he understands. I’ve been promised letters of epic proportions while I’m gone.”

He and Gwen share a laugh, and continue to sip their tea.

“So what made you want to work so closely with the church?” Merlin asks curiously.

“My dad,” Gwen replies, with a soft, affectionate smile. “He wasn’t religious himself, but when I mentioned wanting to go to church, he took me no questions asked. He always encouraged me to treat everyone equally, and to have faith in people. He was the best influence in my life.”

“He sounds like a great man.”

Merlin and Gwen chat a while more about faith, and then Father Gaius comes in to tell Merlin that dinner’s ready.

“I’ll see you on Sunday?” Gwen asks as she puts on her coat.

“Sure thing.” Merlin grins. “Have a good week.”

Gwen waves him goodbye, and Merlin goes to join Father Gaius for dinner, before evening prayer and reading.

*****

(part 3)

Dóchas Part 3

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:29:12 GMT

“Hello,” Arthur says with a grim smile as Merlin opens the door of the priest’s house.

“Hello Arthur, I’m glad you could make it.” Merlin smiles beatifically, and Arthur has to swallow and forcibly stop himself from staring.

Merlin leads him into the sitting room, where there’s tea and biscuits waiting on a coffee table. Arthur takes a seat on the couch, and tries not to read anything into it when Merlin sits beside him.

“Tea?”

“Please,” Arthur replies, and looks around the room as Merlin pours a cup.

The room is large and resplendent in cream and red, with ornate furniture and pictures of God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the Saints on the walls.

“Milk, sugar?” Merlin asks.

“Tiny bit of milk, no sugar.”

Merlin does so, hands Arthur his cup, and then proceeds to dump a large quantity of milk in his own cup.

“Do you like tea with your milk?” Arthur asks teasingly, unable to help himself.

Merlin flushes slightly, but smirks and replies off the bat, “Do you always dress so formally?”

Arthur tugs self-consciously at his shirt collar and glances at Merlin lounging in a pair of baggyish jeans and a t-shirt, and then at his own shirt and slacks. And to think he had nearly worn a tie. Mercy.

“Well…not all of us, uh…” He struggles, trying to think of a suitable comeback, when Merlin laughs.

“I’m only teasing ye. If that’s the way you dress then fair enough, it looks good on you. But please don’t dress up on my account.”

“Oh, cheers,” Arthur mumbles, full-on blushing at this stage. “I’ll keep that in mind. So,” he adds brightly, “what words of religious wisdom have you to impart on me?”

“No no, I don’t want it to be some sort of lecture or lesson.” Merlin shakes his head. “What do you want to talk about?”

‘Anything but religion,’ Arthur’s mind supplies helpfully, but instead, Arthur finds himself saying, “Just how do you think science and religion can actually mix?”

“Ah, now that’s an interesting topic.” Merlin smiles.

He takes a sip of his tea, and continues speaking.

“Science is absolutely wonderful; it helps us understand so much about our world. But there are things we cannot explain, things science cannot understand.”

“Yes, but thousands of years ago, human couldn’t explain why the seasons change, or their crops grew, so they were attributed to Gods and religion,” Arthur points out, slightly argumentative, slightly curious about what Merlin will say. “Surely eventually science will do the same for today’s unexplained occurrences.”

“Probably,” Merlin agrees, “but only for some things. There are things science can’t explain.”

“Such as?” Arthur asks, raising a challenging brow.”

“Courage, honesty, determination, humour, imagination, the human spirit,” Merlin lists off, raising a brow in reply. “Where are the equations for them?”

Arthur stares; feeling a little overwhelmed, but pushes on stubbornly.

“Maybe, but science is still out to prove religion wrong.”

“Ah, right now it is.” Merlin grins. “But in the end, I believe that science will ultimately back quite a lot of religion up. It already does in some ways. Take for example, life after death.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Arthur says, raising a hand up and nearly chocking on his tea. “How is science supposed to back that up, because paranormal activity and ghosts don’t count.”

“Patience young grasshopper.” Merlin chuckles. “I’m getting to it. Are you familiar with the principle of the Conservation of Energy?”

“Energy can’t be created or destroyed, but only changed from one form to another,” Arthur rattles off, wondering where Merlin is going with this.

“Exactly. So when we’re born, energy has been transferred from out parents to us. We are pure energy stored in atoms, molecules and cells – we are always moving, breathing, living. But when we die, what happens to that energy?”

“Well it die-” Arthur starts, then freezes, mouth gaping as he contemplates what Merlin’s trying to tell him. “The energy…is turned into another form.”

“Exactly!” Merlin beams. “Our bodies die, but we live on in our new life after death as… well, whatever that energy becomes – that same energy that God has.”

“Okay okay,” Arthur says, still feeling a little shell-shocked, “what about the bible? I haven’t read it myself, but I’ve heard there are some questionable stories in it.”

Later that evening, Arthur heads home, his head whirling with all sorts of ideas about science and religion, and a bible in his bag.

“Don’t be a prat about something you know nothing about,” Merlin had stated, lips set in a thin line.

He had stood, strode over to the bookshelf and pulled down a small, well-read bible, and had pressed it into a blushing Arthur’s hand.

“If you want to argue about the bible, then you read the bible,” he had said archly.

Arthur had quickly nodded, and then just as quickly, had changed topic to the argument about science subjects in religious schools. There had been talk of seculism, clashing religions, and the balance of belief and fanaticism, before Merlin had had to excuse himself for evening prayer and reading.

“I’ll see you on Friday, yeah?” Arthur had asked, as he stepped out the front door.

“Definitely,” Merlin had grinned. “Where will I meet you?”

“I’ll be driving, so I’ll pick you up here, okay?”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

Arthur steps in through his front door, manages to keep a straight face all the way to his bedroom, and once inside, collapses on his bed and allows the goofy smile, which had been fighting it’s way to the surface all night, to burst onto his face.

*****

Merlin’s planning his next chat with Arthur out, smiling to himself as he remembers Arthur’s passionate arguing, but his humility and open-mindedness as well. Merlin loves debating with people, and is glad that he’s found a kindred spirit in Arthur.

“Nicely done my boy,” Father Gaius says approvingly, “good interpretation of the gospel passage.”

Merlin snaps to attention, and mumbles a hurried thanks and apology at Father Gaius’ disapproving eyebrows.

“I apologise if this is boring you Merlin,” Father Gaius says dryly, “but it is most important.”

“I know Father, sorry.”

Father Gaius smiles and says, “Quite all right. Now, I was thinking that next week we’ll begin on Matthew’s Gospel, but for today, let’s look at the Catechism, perhaps The Celebration of the Christian Mystery?”

Merlin nods and tries his best to look awake and enthusiastic, and Father Gaius stands to fetch the giant book.

“Father?” Merlin asks hesitantly.

“Yes my boy?”

“I don’t mean to be rude or impatient, but… when will I be learning about exorcisms?”

Father Gaius glances sharply at him, but then his features relax into an understanding expression.

“In due time. Bishop Kilgarragh has explained your…miracle, but nevertheless, I want to make sure you’re mentally and informatively prepared to deal with it.”

“Okay,” Merlin replies, hiding his disappointment. “I understand.”

The old priest smiles and nods, then sits back down, placing the Catechism on the table between them.

As he thumbs through it, he murmurs, “Merlin, about your ability… how long are you able to summon angels for?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried to find out.” Merlin shrugs.

“I would like you to summon them now, and try to keep them here while you carry out your lesson.”

“Okay,” Merlin acquiesces, slightly bewildered.

He closes his eyes and uncurls an inner part of himself, which naturally reaches out and up in supplication, singing out with faithful joy. At once, he is surrounded by angels, and he basks in their warmth as he focuses on his studies. Merlin manages to keep them around for the next three hours. During that time, Father Gaius flinches every now and then, as if touched by something, but nothing is said. By the time they fade away, Merlin’s drooping with exhaustion, and Father Gaius looks both stunned and thrilled.

“Very good job.” He beams, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. “Take the rest of the day off.”

Merlin nods, smiles gratefully, and wanders down to his room, where he throws on a Rachmaninov record and collapses in bed for a sound nap.

*****

“So where are we going?” Merlin asks, as he gets into Arthur’s car.

“I was thinking, food, cinema and the arcade?”

“Sounds good,” Merlin smiles.

Arthur flashes him a bright grin, shifts the car into gear and drives off. After he fiddles with a few buttons, music fills the car, and Merlin bursts out laughing.

“What? Do you have a problem with my music?”

“No no,” Merlin giggles, “I just never had you pegged as a Queen fan.”

“Freddy is my idol,” Arthur declares loftily, then bursts into song, “Heeerrre we are! Born to be kings, we’re the princes of the univerrrsse!”

Merlin laughs and then joins in, and the two sing their hearts out to Queen, all the way into the city.

“So, what are you in the mood for, because I’m thinking steak,” Arthur says, smacking his lips, as they walk down the high street towards the restaurant section of town.

“Mmm yeah,” Merlin agrees eagerly, his stomach rumbling in anticipation. “With mushroom sauce.”

“Mushroom?” Arthur winces, his nose wrinkling. “You madman, everyone knows pepper sauce is the only way to go.”

“Well as a servant of the Lord, I can tell you that God himself declared mushroom sauce the most heavenly.” Merlin grins.

“Good thing I’m not on good terms with the oul chap – I’ll take my heathen sauce over him any day.” Arthur grins teasingly.

“You never know, I may convert you yet.”

“That’s the only reason you’re befriending me isn’t it – you’re gathering more brainwashed drones for your future flock!” Arthur gasps mock indignantly.

Merlin sighs dramatically and replies, “Yes, I’m afraid so. Drat, you have caught me out.”

“S’alright.” Arthur shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m only befriending you so I can lure you away from the Church with promises of drink and festive fun.”

“Remind me never to introduce you to Will; he’s been trying the same thing for ten years.” Merlin chuckles.

“Oohh, I should collaborate with him; we can plot your tragic downfall,” Arthur says gleefully.

Merlin’s lips quirk and he shakes his head before pointing at a steakhouse across the road and saying, “How about there?”

Arthur nods, and the two enter the restaurant and are quickly seated. A waitress with a pretty smile and flowers in her hair is immediately over, subtly trying to push her chest out while batting her lashes at Arthur.

“Hello, I’m Sophia and I’ll be your waitress for this evening,” she says breathily. “Would you gents like a drink while you decide on your order?”

“We’re ready to place our orders now actually,” Arthur says charmingly.

Sophia efficiently whips out a notepad and pen and says, “Okay, what’ll it be?”

“I’ll have the twelve ounce sirloin with pepper sauce, well done please.”

“Chips, baked potato or salad?”

“Chips please.”

“And to drink?”

“I’ll have a glass of milk please.”

“Very well then. And for you sir?” She asks Merlin, not fully turning her cleavage away from Arthur.

“I’ll have the fifteen ounce fillet steak with mushroom sauce, medium-rare with salad and a glass of coke please.”

“All right then,” Sophia nods, jotting his order down. “I’ll be back with your drinks in a jiffy.”

She gives Arthur one last lingering look and walks off, hips swaying probably more than they should.

Arthur barely notices; he’s too busy rolling his eyes in exasperation and saying, “Salad, really Merlin? No wonder you’re so skinny, you need major carbo-loading.”

“At least I’m not the one ruining a perfectly good piece of steak by having it well done.” Merlin snarks back.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting my food cooked.”

“Cremated would be the better word – you might as well be chewing on old leather.”

They exchange jibes about each other’s choice of food and drink until Sophia comes back with said drinks – she places Merlin’s neatly in front of him, and then bends right into Arthur’s personal space to place his milk beside his hand. Arthur catches Merlin’s eye as she straightens, and has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the mirth he sees in the other man’s eyes.

Once Sophia walks off, Merlin outright grins and says, “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”

Arthur snorts and replies, “She’s on a wild goose chase with that one.”

“You’re not interested?”

“Nah, she’s not my type.”

“Oh. What is?” Merlin asks curiously.

Arthur is honest and blunt to a fault with everyone he meets, so generally this would be where he says, “Male,” and is done with it. But Merlin’s religious, and Arthur doesn’t know how he feels about gay peoples. What’s between them feels wonderful and fragile, and Arthur won’t, can’t risk ruining it.

Therefore, he wrinkles his nose and answers, “Not so… girly,” which is as honest as he can get, given the circumstances.

“Ah, so you like tomboy girls.”

“Yeah.” Arthur nods, and quickly changes the subject. “So, where are you from? Your accent sounds mostly Northern, but there’s a hint of something else I can’t quite place.”

“You’re right,” Merlin replies, his face slightly distant. “My parents were both from Northern Ireland, but when my father died, my mother moved over to England. I grew up there, and when I was fourteen, we moved back to Armagh. I was always getting teased because I had a mongrel accent from my mother and my friends,” he finishes with a soft laugh.

Arthur frowns, his heart clenching at the thought of Merlin being unhappy.

“I’m sorry about your father,” he says, his voice low and rough.

“It’s okay, he died before I was born – can’t miss what you never had, you know?” Merlin shrugs, a sad smile on his lips.

“Still, it must have been tough growing up without a father.”

“At times, but my mother’s a fantastic woman.”

“I bet she is,” Arthur smiles, his voice fond.

Their food arrives then; Sophia tries more “subtle” flirting, but Arthur fixes his attention on Merlin, and she gives up with a small pout. The men favour silence and eating in the presence of good food, and when they’re done, they both lean back in their chairs with satisfied sighs.

“Desert?”

“Nu-uh,” Merlin groans, “I’m fit to burst.”

“Oh yes, what with all that salad you ate,” Arthur teases.

Merlin sticks his tongue out, and Arthur’s glad that Sophia pops up at that moment, to distract him from the giant flip his stomach does.

“Would you like the desert menu?” She asks, positively trying to light up the room with her giant smile.

“No thank you, can we just have the bill please?” Merlin asks politely.

Sophia wilts slightly, but nods and says pleasantly, “Of course.”

She returns with the bill; Merlin and Arthur pay, and leave her a generous tip before they leave and head towards the cinema.

“So, what do you want to see?” Arthur asks, as they walk in the cinema entrance.

“Oh, I’m not too sure, I haven’t been to the cinema in a long while,” Merlin replies sheepishly.

“That’s all right. I heard Batman Begins is supposed to be quite good – lots of explosions and ass-kicking.”

“Sounds like fun,” Merlin grins.

They get their tickets, head into the screen, whisper through the trailers, and then are enrapt by the movie. When it ends, they come out babbling excitedly and re-enacting some of the more memorable bits.

“Oh, and remember when he-” Merlin kicks the air and shoots and imaginary gun.

“Yeah! And then the other guy was all, Argh! Eugh! Bam! Bam!” Arthur yells.

They continue in this fashion all the way to the arcade, where Arthur beats Merlin at all the fighting games, and Merlin trounces him at the racing games. Several times, Arthur catches Merlin eyeing up the Dance Dance Revolution game, and eventually he smirks and says, “You do realise that that’s a girl’s game, right Meerrrlin?”

“Making excuses cause you know I’ll beat you?” Merlin smirks back.

Arthur squares up and says, “Is that a challenge?”

Merlin leans in and says wickedly, “Bring it on Pendragon.”

Arthur involuntarily shivers and stiffly turns and marches towards the game, Merlin strolling behind. They take their places; Merlin puts €2 in and selects the difficult level, Arthur copying him. The game begins, and while it starts off easy enough, Arthur quickly realises he’s way in over his head. The arrows keep coming faster and faster, and he struggle vainly to keep up. Beside him, Merlin’s all flushed cheeks and flailing limbs, but his feet are flying, scoring ‘perfect’ after ‘perfect’ after ‘perfect’. The song finally ends; Arthur has a C- and Merlin an A+. Merlin smirks at Arthur as he climbs off the platform, Arthur himself staggering off.

“So, what’s next?” Merlin asks, eyes sparkling wickedly.

“Aren’t you going to rub your win in my face?” Arthur asks snarkily.

“Oh no; one must always remain gracious and humble in victory,” Merlin says diplomatically, though his smirk belays his tone.

Arthur snorts and walks off to the shooter games, Merlin falling in step beside him.

“Just wondering though – what’s it like being beaten at a girl’s game?” Merlin asks innocently. “I’m only asking because it’s never happened to me before.”

Arthur laughs and picks up a gun for a zombie shooter game.

“Come here and let me kick your ass.”

“You can try.”

They play a few more games before deciding to call it a night. At this stage, Merlin’s visibly tired. He bids Arthur goodnight with droopy eyes and a sleepy smile, and Arthur grips the steering wheel tightly to keep himself from grabbing him and kissing the living daylights out of him. He watches Merlin walk up to the house and in the front door, and has to take a few moments to compose himself before he can drive home.

*****

(part 4)

Dóchas Part 4

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:23:37 GMT

“Hello!” Gwen says brightly as Morgana and Arthur join her and Lance in church.

“Glad to see you back Arthur,” Lance says warmly.

“Well, you never know how you truly feel about something after only one time. I want to give this a fair go,” Arthur replies sagely.

“Glad to hear it,” a different, but familiar voice says.

Arthur jumps and turns to see Merlin, standing beside their pew.

“Good morning.” He smiles at all of them.

“Good morning.” Morgana smiles back. “How are you?”

“Very well thank you. Mind if I sit with you all?”

“Not at all, please do,” Gwen says sweetly.

Merlin sits and beams at Arthur, who grins goofily back. Quickly though, he’s drawn in to a conversation with Morgana and Gwen about transub-something or other, which Arthur tries, but fails to follow. Instead, he focuses on looking around the church; taking in the pictures on the wall – the Twelve Station of the Cross, St. John the Baptist, Jesus curing the lepers. Again, he notices that other people in the church are staring at him, some still suspiciously, but some in confusion. Arthur mentally chuckles, and then stands as the organ plays and mass begins. This time, he really tries to pay attention to everything that’s happening, but it’s so hard with Merlin pressed against him from shoulder to knee. Somehow, he manages to keep up with the standing, sitting and kneeling, mumbling vague noises under his breath, and he breathes a sigh of relief when it’s all over.

“How was it this week?” Merlin asks him, as they walk out of the church.

“Better. Still a bit confusing and hard to keep up with, but better,” Arthur admits.

“Good. So, will I see you at Moira’s again this week?” Merlin asks with a hopeful edge.

Arthur’s heart leaps, and he has to remind himself that it means nothing, that Merlin’s just being friendly. He’s about to reply, when Morgana jumps in.

“Oh, you saw Merlin at Moira’s last week did you?” She asks, amusement tingeing her voice.

“Yes, we bumped into each other and got talking,” Arthur replies, desperately hoping his voice sounds even.

“Oh lovely. You know, I was thinking of going to Moira’s myself today; mind if I join you?”

“No, not at all,” Merlin answers cheerfully, “the more the merrier.”

“Excellent. Hey Gwen!” Morgana calls across to Gwen, who’s arranging flowers at the church door. “Do you and Lance want to come to lunch with Arthur, Merlin and I in Moira’s?”

“Ooo yeah okay,” Gwen replies happily. “Is 2 o’clock okay?”

“Perfect, see you then!” Morgana thrills, and turns back to Arthur, who’s scowling, and Merlin, who’s bemused.

“Better hope the wind doesn’t change,” she says archly, grinning when Arthur scowls even more.

“Come on, we’d better get home,” Arthur says. “I’ll see you later Merlin.”

“See you Arthur, see you Morgana,” Merlin says, stepping back towards the church.

“Bye,” Morgana calls.

She and Arthur start off for home, and no sooner are they out of the church grounds than Arthur grinds out, “So good of you to invite yourself along Morgana.”

“Now now Arthur, you can’t be keeping Merlin all to yourself,” Morgana chides. “Besides, I can hardly think that you’d be very scintillating company.”

“Well if I’m not very scintillating company then why does he want to meet up with me twice a week then eh?” Arthur bites out heatedly.

“He wants to what?” Morgana asks, expression incredulous.

Arthur flushes, curses his temper and Morgana, and then replies, “We’re meeting up twice a week – one night to talk about religion and faith, and the second to hang out.”

“Arthur… are you actually making friends with a religious person?”

“Shut up.” Arthur scowls.

“Oh, my little brother’s growing up!” Morgana squeals, giving him a hug. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Shut up,” Arthur repeats, but this time he’s smiling.

When they’re back in the house and dressed in their normal clothes, Morgana gestures for him to follow, and leads him out the back to their old tree house. It’s small and cramped, but it holds good memories, and it’s perfect for private conversations.

“Remember when I told Uther that my night course changed from one to two nights a week?” She asks casually, once they’re settled.

“Yes?”

“Well… I was lying. I’m doing something else on that second night.”

“… What is it?”

“I-” Morgana stares down at her lap, then sighs, looks Arthur dead in the eye, and says, “I’m becoming a member of the Catholic Church.”

“What, like Merlin?”

Arthur tries to imagine Morgana like that, and simply can’t, it’s too ridiculous.

“No no, like Gwen and Lance – I’m going to become a Catholic.”

“Oh.”

Arthur’s silent for far too long, and Morgana begins to feel a curl of something horrid in her stomach, when he suddenly smiles and says, “If that’s what you want, then I support you.”

“Thank you,” Morgana smiles brilliantly. “That means a lot to me.”

“You can thank me by getting your hurl and going one on one with me so I can kick your ass.”

“Bring it on.”

“Where are you two going?” Uther asks, as they try to sneak out the door.

Arthur curses his father’s amazing hearing, while Morgana answers smoothly, “We’re going for lunch with Gwen and Lance.”

“Oh,” Uther says stiffly, his face hard.

Morgana had gushed about Gwen and Lance when she had first met them and Uther had been all in favour of her new friendships, but when she had mentioned their being religious, he had freaked, and had tried to ban her from seeing them. There had been many, many fights over them, and eventually, it had been silently agreed that there would be no more mention of Gwen and Lance.

“Why are you going with her Arthur?”

“Oh, um, Lance did the sports rehab course in UCG, I wanted to ask him about it,” Arthur lies, keeping his face neutral.

Uther regards him keenly for a few moments, before nodding.

“Would you like us to bring you back anything?” Morgana asks gently.

“No thank you,” Uther replies with a soft smile. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“We will,” Morgana smiles, and she and Arthur hurry off.

Lunch turns out to be a very pleasant affair; Gwen and Lance are lovely and funny and the kind of couple you want to hate but can’t because they’re just so damn nice and sweet. Yet again, Arthur finds himself pressed against Merlin, as they all squish around a corner table, and he loses himself a little in Merlin’s laugh and his voice and animated expression as he tells stories from his time in the seminary – the time they switched the demonstration baby used for practising baptisms for one that cried every time it was picked up, going to mass in the middle of the night, and the time they observed a funeral of a man, who’s loved ones dressed up as clowns. All too soon, they’re done, and Arthur regretfully goes to pay and makes his way outside with the others.

“This was great fun,” Lance says warmly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to making this a weekly thing.”

“Me neither,” Morgana agrees, while Gwen smiles at Lance like he’s suggested the way to bring about world peace.

“Great idea,” Merlin says, while Arthur nods. “I look forward to it.”

The five make their goodbye and part ways, and when they get home, Morgana wordlessly hands Uther a doughnut and a pack of cards, while Arthur goes to his room and stares at his CAO form, willing it to fill itself out.

*****

“Father, if I was to ask you why bad things happen to good people, what would you say?” Merlin asks his mentor as he reads over Revelations.

“Merlin, are you having a crisis of faith?” Father Gaius asks, perturbed. “You’ve been asking me strange questions all day.”

“No no, no crisis at all,” Merlin hastily answers. “It’s just… do you know Arthur Pendragon?”

“Not personally no, but his reputation precedes him. Why?”

“Well, he’s started going to mass, and I bumped into him, and it turns out he’s rather lacking in faith, due to… circumstances,” Merlin explains. “So I’ve offered to talk to him about faith and religion, which he’s happy about, so I’m trying to anticipate what questions he’s going to ask.”

Father Gaius’ eyebrows are nearly in his hairline he’s so astonished, and he coughs and says, “I see… Well my boy, I’m sure you already know the answers to these questions.”

“Well, yes,” Merlin confesses, “but I want to know what you’d say.”

Father Gaius smiles and replies, “I think it would be better if Arthur were to hear what your opinion is, and not the opinion of an old priest. Now, shouldn’t you be getting back to your work?”

“Oh, yes.” Merlin nods, quickly putting his nose back in the book, making notes every now and then, while Father Gaius regards him with a fond, fatherly smile.

*****

Arthur knocks on the door of the priest’s house, and continues reading the Bible.

“Okay,” he says as the door’s opened, not bothering to look up from the book, “I haven’t read the whole thing yet, but seriously, you believe all this? God created the Earth in six days? Adam and Eve populated the Earth and lived nearly a thousand years?”

“Ah, the sound of the uneducated,” an old, amused voice says. “If I had known it would be this much fun, I’d have talked to you myself.”

Arthur jumps, and looks up in shock at the face of the parish priest, who gazed back at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Good evening Arthur,” he says in greeting.

“Good evening Father,” Arthur mumbles, his face burning from blushing so much.

“Merlin’s in the living room,” Father Gaius tells him, stepping out the front door. “Please let him know I’ve gone to bingo.”

The priest walks off, and Arthur takes a moment to allow his blush to fade away, before he enters the house. He closes the front door, and then makes his way into the sitting room, where he finds Merlin, engrossed in a bunch of hand-written notes. He coughs, and Merlin jumps, dropping the sheets of paper.

“Oh!” Merlin cries, looking around. “Sorry, I didn’t know if it was you at the door, and Father Gaius was leaving as you knocked, and he said he’d get it.”

“Yeah, he said to tell you he’s gone to bingo,” Arthur says wryly.

“Ah yes, the secret addiction of all priests.”

“Are you sure you can stand the excitement of it?” Arthur asks dryly.

“We like to live dangerously,” Merlin winks.

Arthur laughs and takes a seat beside him.

“Okay, so first of all, you’re going to explain the start of this to me,” Arthur says firmly, holding up the Bible, “because Genesis is hella-confusing.”

Merlin grins and says wryly, “Let me guess, you think it’s all a bunch of clap trap and nonsense, what with God creating the Earth in six days and Adam and Eve living hundreds of years.”

Arthur goes slightly red and replies lowly, “Yes, well that’s what’s written in it.”

Merlin laughs and replies, “Yes it is, but it’s not meant to be taken literally. Most of the Old Testament is parables – they’re stories used either to explain things or to teach a lesson. Genesis is simply an attempt to explain the creation of Earth and the beginning of humanity. A friend of mine from college believes it’s all a scientific metaphor – ‘Let there be light!’ equals the Big Bang. It helps him bolster his faith.”

“I don’t understand why anyone would want to bolster their faith,” Arthur snorts in slight contempt.

“A lot of people have faith in many different things – be it love, diligence, honesty, people, or God.”

“Yes, but if you have too much faith in something, you become dependent on it, and you forget of all the bad things that can happen – such as when God lets bad things happen to good people.”

“Ah yes, I thought you might mention that.” Merlin grins fondly. “What you need to remember is that God is our Father. Now, what any parent wants to do is wrap their child in bubble wrap and never let a bad thing happen to them, but they know that their child will never learn or grow if they don’t experience the world on their own, make mistakes or get hurt. So, they have to let them go off, and keep an eye on them, and try to comfort them as best they can when things go wrong.”

Arthur thinks of Uther: how he’s worked all his life to shield Arthur from the perils of faith, how he’s failed miserably to notice when things are truly distressing him, but how he tends to him when he’s sick or in trouble.

“Even when they fail us, we still have faith in our parents to be there for us, and have our best intentions at heart,” Merlin says gently.

“You… you’re right,” Arthur replies, voice rough. “I’d never thought about it that way…”

“I know it’s still hard for you, because of your mother, and how your father was afterwards, but God did not abandon you during that time. He was there in the people that visited you, in the people that took care of your mother, in the strength and courage you and your father had during that difficult time.”

“Maybe,” Arthur says with some difficulty, “but I still can’t see how that justifies our blind faith in him at the time.”

Merlin is silent for a moment, his expression troubled and pensive, as if he’s trying to make a hard decision.

After a while, he says, “Arthur, you have little to no faith in God. What is he to you?”

Arthur shrugs and replies, “Nothing really.”

“Right, so he’s meaningless to you. Now think about faith in general – faith in people, in technology, in the government, in the future. Imagine what the world would be like if people had no faith, in anything.”

“It would be… hopeless,” Arthur replies after a moment’s thought. “People would just give up.”

“Yes. So can you see how important faith is?”

Arthur nods and Merlin continues. “For some people, their faith in God is the only thing that keeps their faith in everything else in life. Do you realise just how important faith in God can be?”

Arthur realises that it’s true, while simultaneously realising that he himself has so very little faith or hope in anything, the same with his father. It creates a sickening feeling in his stomach, and a powerful yearning for something he can’t truly understand.

Arthur and Merlin talk a while more about faith in the world, and Merlin finishes their session with a story:

A man has a dream in which he’s walking down a beach with God beside him, both of them leaving footprints in the sand. These footprints stretch back behind them, representing the man’s life. Looking back, the man is troubled to see that there are moments – moments of trouble in his life, when there is only a single set of footprints, so he turns to God and says, “Lord, why did you leave me when my life was difficult?” And God smiles and replies, “My child, I would not abandon you when you needed me most. Those are not times when you walked alone; those are the times I carried you.”

Later that night, Arthur, while thinking about that story, feels a lump in the back of his throat, and realises, that for the first time since his mother died, he’s close to tears.

*****

Merlin and Arthur are playing a little one-on-one hurling on their Friday hanging out; Merlin’s surprisingly good, very graceful with his footwork. During a water break, Merlin turns to him and says, “I was thinking about what you said, about it being difficult to justify faith after a horrible experience, and I have a story to tell you.”

“Okay,” Arthur says curiously, “shoot.”

Merlin settles on the grass, and takes a gulp of water, before speaking.

“My mother is a Catholic, but my father was a Protestant. I know it means nothing now, but back when they were young, in Ireland, especially in Northern Ireland; it was insane to even think of Catholics and Protestants associating with each other. They fell in love regardless of this, keeping their relationship a secret, and decided to elope. They managed to steal away, and were married in a registry office, before my mother’s brothers caught up with them. They dragged my father away and beat him to death, while my mother watched from a hidden corner. She luckily managed to escape to England, and hasn’t spoken to her family since. Even though religion and hatred killed the man she loved, she still has an unbelievable faith in God, and thanks him every day that she and I are healthy and safe.”

At this point, Merlin looks directly at Arthur and finishes with, “She told me all this when I was young, and was questioning God’s love and power when bad things happen. It’s always stuck with me when I think about how important faith is.”

Arthur stares at him in shock, unable to believe just how close Merlin came to ending up like him. It twists Arthur’s insides to think of a Merlin without faith or peacefulness or God, and he wonders if this is how Merlin feels about him.

“Merlin, I… that’s really shit,” he says, swallowing with difficulty. “I can’t imagine how your mother made it through such an ordeal.”

“Sometimes I can’t either,” Merlin replies sadly. “Just… keep that story in mind, eh?”

Arthur nods solemnly, and Merlin smiles in reply and then stands.

“Come on, let’s get back to me beating you,” he grins, holding a hand out. “I believe it’s 2-6 to 1-7?”

“Oh believe me; this game will end with me as the winner.” Arthur grins back.

Merlin laughs. Arthur takes his hand, and lets himself be helped up.

*****

A few weeks later, Arthur and Morgana are walking back from mass, when Morgana turns to him and says happily, “You know, you’re starting to look so much more relaxed and peaceful lately.”

“Thanks, I feel that way too,” Arthur replies in a pleased tone.

Mentally, Arthur thanks Merlin for his help through all this – their sessions are becoming more and more in depth, and they’ve become more personal too: Arthur told Merlin about his past and the way he treated religious people, and Merlin simply smiled and told him that as long as he was sorry, then all was forgiven. Arthur has started to accept God in his life, and it’s having a very positive effect on him. He’s also taken it upon himself to learn the prayers he needs for mass, and finds the message behind many of them comforting. He and Merlin have become very close, and while he still fancies the pants off Merlin, it’s tempered by the sweet and wonderful friendship they have. Since starting to develop an interest in religion, Arthur’s life had greatly improved. The only problem is, hiding it at home.

Morgana’s no help with this – now that both of them are on the bandwagon, she wants to tell Uther everything, and try to bring him around to their way of thinking. Arthur is adamantly against this.

“No,” he says firmly as Morgana brings it up yet again. “We’re not telling him anything. And if you try to, I’ll… I’ll deny it all.”

“No you won’t,” Morgana replies shrewdly.

Arthur sighs and replies miserably, “No… I won’t. But please Morgana, for the sake of peace, don’t say anything.”

Morgana sighs in frustration, but replies, “Fine… But only for you.”

“Thank you,” Arthur says gratefully.

Of course though, Morgana being Morgana, she can’t fully drop anything, and Arthur grits his teeth when she says oh-so-casually at dinner that night, “So Uther, I heard there’s a jazz and blues band playing in town next week.”

“Really?” Uther asks interestedly. “Where?”

“In the Church,” Morgana answers promptly.

Arthur flinches, and Uther stiffens, before he says darkly, “We’re not going.”

“Why not?” Morgana challenges.

“Because I will not set foot in that monstrosity of a place,” Uther growls, glaring fiercely at Morgana, who glares frostily back.

“It’s not a monstrosity of a place!” She cries angrily. “It’s a place people go to be together and pray, you know, like the one you used to head?”

“Shut up!” Uther roars. “You will never mention that again!”

Morgana stares at him darkly, but remains silent.

Arthur raises his head slightly, thinking furiously of a subject of conversation to distract Uther with, when Morgana mutters, “Gwen and Lance go to church, and they’re perfectly lovely people.”

Arthur groans and lowers his head, and Uther snaps, “We agreed not to speak of them again!”

“They’re my friends; I’ll speak about them if I want! You’re maniacal! Your hatred of religion is suffocating and completely unreasonable!”

“I’m only trying to protect you!” Uther says defensively.

“No, you’re forcing your views on me, raping my brain with your horrid, horrid thoughts!”

Uther stares at her in outrage, then grits his teeth and says dangerously, “Get out of my sight: you disgust me.”

Morgana stares at him, until her lower lip starts wobbling, at which stage she storms off. Arthur escapes the table as quickly as he can, and goes to her room, where he finds his adopted sister curled up on her bed sniffling, while angry rock music blasts from her stereo.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” He sighs as he sits beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“I don’t know, he just… he just makes me so angry! He’s ignorant, and close-minded, and, and…”

“And you were the same at one stage in your life,” Arthur says gently.

Morgana stills, hiccups, then nods and replies, “Yes, but I got over it! And I know he can too if he’d just let himself.”

“Maybe he will, but it will be in his own time. You can’t keep pushing him into it.”

Morgana giggles and says, “Since when did you get so wise?”

“Since Merlin.”

“You still like him?”

“Course I do, he’s my friend.”

“Not that way. Do you fancy him?”

“…Yeah…”

“Oh Arthur…”

“Oh nothing,” Arthur scoffs, and then adds wryly, “And by the way, did you have to talk about the brain raping again?”

“I knew it would get a reaction,” Morgana laughs, then sobs into Arthur’s shoulder.

“Morgana?” There’s a knock at her door, and Uther appears, his face twisted in apology.

Morgana stands up, arms outstretched, and Uther comes to her. Arthur leaves them as they embrace, ignoring the strange curl of his stomach at the sight, in favour of being happy that their fight didn’t last too long this time.

*****

(part 5)

Dóchas Part 5

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:16:08 GMT

“Arthur, what’s wrong?” Merlin asks worriedly, as he takes a seat beside him, their hands brushing.

Arthur inwardly flinches and tries not to lean into the dark-haired man. Merlin had suggested swimming for their Friday activity, as Gaius had given him the morning off, and Arthur had been all for it, looking forward to the exercise. Instead though, he had ended up unable to concentrate, and took to sulking in the sauna, until Merlin had come to find him.

“Things are kind of tense at home,” he explains. “Morgana keeps trying to talk to Uther about religion, he’s having none of it, and they keep screaming at one another.”

“Oh. Does Uther know that you’re siding with Morgana?”

“No no, I’m just tired of being in the middle of the two of them. Uther would never think I was into religion at all,” Arthur snorts, “not only because I never talk about it, but also because-” He stops short, not believing what he was about to give away.

“Because what?” Merlin asks curiously.

“Because…” This is not the time to be telling Merlin this, when they’re practically naked and alone, all hot and sweaty, but Arthur can’t keep it from him anymore, so he closes his eyes and plunges bravely onwards. “Because I’m gay.”

Merlin is silent, and Arthur opens his eyes to see him frowning down at his hands. Arthur feels far too terrified to say any more, and simply sits there, waiting for Merlin to speak.

“So, I guess when I said that tomboy was your type, it was just the boy part that was really true eh?” Merlin eventually jokes weakly.

Arthur breathes a sigh of relief, and chuckles slightly hysterically.

“Yes that it is.”

Merlin laughs and then asks in a serious and slightly hurt tone, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Oh, well, you’re religious and training to be a priest, and I thought that if you knew, you might, you know, hate me,” Arthur replies in a small voice.

“Oh Arthur, I could never hate you,” Merlin smiles gently, “and besides, all God and Jesus want is for us to be good to each other, and love one another. God will always love you.”

“But it says in Leviticus that it’s an abomination to be gay.”

“It also says it’s an abomination to eat shellfish, and grow different crops beside one another. They are a bunch of out-dated laws that don’t apply to modern day society. When you get on to the New Testament, you’ll find that those sorts of things aren’t mentioned.”

“But…isn’t the church against homosexuality?”

“The older members of the church are, yes,” Merlin answers carefully, “but I believe that if we are to keep up interest in church and mass among people today, we will have to throw off old, discriminating attitudes. And it’s happening – there are gay churches, gay priests, gay marriage. As long as there’s love in the world, God’s happy.”

Arthur smiles, feeling uplifted. “Good to know.”

He’s silent then, his mind at war. He knows he shouldn’t ask; even if Merlin is, there would be no point because he’s training to be a bloody priest, but Arthur has to know, can’t help but torture himself, and so his mouth opens and –

“So, are you, um…?”

“Oh! Um, I guess, asexual is the word?” Merlin tries to explain. “I’ve never fancied anyone.”

“What, really?” Arthur asks, shocked. “No one? Ever?”

“Nope.”

“You’ve never even noticed if someone’s attractive?”

“I’ve only ever been devoted to God.”

“But, but… surely there’s someone!” Arthur splutters.

“No, there’s no one.” Merlin frowns. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because! It’s a little strange – Everyone should have at least one person they fancy!”

“Well I don’t.”

“Not even a lit-”

“Christ Arthur, I already told you I don’t fancy anyone, would you just drop it?!” Merlin yells.

Arthur stares at Merlin, unable to believe that the usually good-tempered man had just gotten so angry with him. Merlin’s eyes widen, and then his face drops into his hands as he mutters, “Great, Father Gaius is going to have such fun at confession.”

The two men leave the sauna very soon after that. Their conversation is stilted and awkward, and remains so for the next few days, until Merlin impulsively hugs Arthur and whispers, “Sorry.”

Arthur grabs the opportunity and hugs him tightly back.

“I’m sorry too,” he whispers, trying not to nose his way along Merlin’s jaw line.

Things get much better after that, and soon they’re as close as they ever were. Both of them make sure though, never to mention liking someone again.

*****

“Father, what do you think about all the rules in Leviticus?” Merlin asks timidly during one of his lesson.

“Claptrap and hogwash,” is Father Gaius’ prompt response. “They are something ignorant people use to spread hatred, while failing to recognize or acknowledge any of the other non-sensical rules.”

“Oh, so you don’t have a problem with homosexuality?”

“My boy, I can hardly believe that a kind and loving God who would give up his only son for us, would be so petty as to deny people love simply because of the gender they love. My views aren’t very popular, and few priests agree with them, but I stick by them.”

Merlin smiles brightly and says, “I’m very glad to hear that, and please know that I agree with you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Father Gaius smiles back.

*****

“Gwen, do you think it’s strange that I’ve never fancied anyone?” Merlin asks at his and Gwen’s next session.

“Oh, um, well, I mean, I guess everyone’s got someone that they find attractive, so maybe… but there’s no point for you – not that you’re not a great catch, just that you’re going to be a priest so it’s a good thing! Um… look, do you think it’s strange?”

“Not really,” Merlin replies, and then adds sourly, “Everyone else seems to think it is though.”

“Well… look there’s no such thing as normal,” Gwen tells him. “All that matters if how you feel, and as long as you’re content in yourself, then you’re all good.”

“Thanks Gwen,” Merlin grins.

She may babble quite a lot, but when push comes to shove, Merlin finds that she knows exactly what to say.

*****

“Hello Father,” Arthur grins cheekily as Father Gaius opens the door, “can Merlin come out to play?”

Father Gaius arches an eyebrow, gives him a look, and then replies, “I highly doubt ‘playing’ is the right term for what you plan to drag my student out to do.”

“All part of the festive fun.”

Father Gaius gives a wry grin and says, “Indeed.”

He steps back into the hallway, gesturing for Arthur to follow, and as Arthur walks in the door, Merlin comes barrelling down the stairs. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes sparkling, his grin lights up the room, and Arthur’s stomach bottoms out at how gorgeous he looks in his dark cord trousers and blue woollen jumper.

“Ready to go?” He asks, pleased at how steady his voice is.

“Yup,” Merlin nods excitedly, grabbing his coat and scarf and pulling them on.

“Be careful Merlin,” Father Gaius warns, “I've been warned about you: one whiff of a barmaid’s apron and you’re dancing on the tables.”

Merlin blushes and nods obediently, then shoves Arthur out the door while calling hasty goodbyes.

Arthur manages to walk three steps before he smirks and says, “Better keep you away from those pesky barmaids and their aprons, lord knows what you’ll get up to.”

Merlin scowls and half-heartedly shoves Arthur.

“I should start bringing you to confession the amount of times you’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Can’t do, I’m not a Catholic.”

“You’re not a Catholic YET.”

“Promises promises,” Arthur singsongs.

He’s giddy with joy and excitement for the night to come – Morgana’s stories of her wild pub crawls still echoes in his memory, and he’s looking forward to his very first one. He and Merlin banter as they walk down the road, until they reach their first destination, The Laughing Ass, where Morgana, Gwen and Lance are waiting.

“Happy Christmas!” Gwen cheers as they walk up to the table.

Everyone hugs and exchanges seasonal greeting, and then settles down around the table as Morgana lays down the rules.

“Okay, the theme of this pub crawl is The 12 Days of Christmas,” she tells them with a wicked smile. “I’ve made a list of all the drinks and the day they are associated with.”

With that, she puts the list down on the table:

A Partridge in a Pear Tree: Pear Cider
2 Turtle Doves: Grouse Whiskey Shot
3 French hens: French Flag Shot
4 Calling Birds: Aftershock Shot
5 Gold Rings: Goldschlager Shot
6 Geese-a-Laying: Jager Bomb
7 Swans-a-Swimming: Silver Bullet Shot
8 Maids-a-Milking: Mudslide Cocktail
9 Drummers Drumming: Mohito
10 Pipers Piping: Jazz Vodka
11 Ladies Dancing: Fat Frog
12 Lords-a-Leaping: Vodka and Redbull

“And afterwards, we’re going to Viper for karaoke and dancing,” Morgana finishes.

Merlin makes a faint choking noise and says, “Um, Morgana, I’m not too sure if I’ll be able to handle all this…”

“I’m not even sure a horse could handle all this,” Arthur adds dubiously.

“Nonsense, it’s easily done,” Morgana scoffs. “Right Gwen?”

Gwen eyes the list thoughtfully, and then declares, “Seems reasonable.”

And that’s that. There’s no way Arthur’s backing down from a challenge against girls, especially Morgana, so he sets his jaw and nods.

“Fine, let’s do it,” he says defiantly.

Merlin makes another choking noise, while Lance eyes him as though he’s a brave king leading his men into battle.

“Let the games begin,” Morgana announces.

As it turns out, Father Gaius is right; by the time they hit the fourth pub, Merlin’s swaying slightly as he walks, his speech has sped up, and his English accent is becoming thicker. By the eighth pub, the accent has become near incomprehensible, and by the time they make it to Viper, Merlin’s leaning heavily on Arthur, slurring words into his ear.

“Thur’s s’mthin ‘bout you Arfur. ‘S like… ‘s like it’s my DESTINY or summat to help you. Also… you’re like… MY BEST FRIEND, only don' tell Will, he’ll cry, cry like a babay.”

Arthur’s not much better off than Merlin at this point, and he leans against Merlin in wonton delight.

Turning his face against Merlin’s neck, he slurs in his ear, “’S cool Merlin, you’re my best friend too. I love you, ya know that?”

Arthur and Merlin exchange a manly hug, nearly falling off their bar stools, while Lance, who’s nearly as bad, slumps beside them, sipping on a pint of water. What’s truly terrifying is that Morgana and Gwen are totally fine – they’re at the bar downing shots of tequila like they’re water. Once they’re done, they run off to the stage to belt out, “Ain’t no Mountain High Enough,” in true diva style.

As the night progresses, Arthur and Merlin sober up enough for the girls to drag them off dancing, and if Arthur happens to brush against Merlin every now and then, he tells himself it’s nothing, in spite of the goofy grin Merlin sends him every time he does. When the club is closed, the group stumbles down to Supermacs for much needed refuelling, before piling into a taxi and heading for home.

Arthur wakes up early in the morning, still fully clothed, on top of his bed, his mouth dry and head stuffy. As he pulls his clothes off, hazy memories filter back into his mind. As he remembers telling Merlin he loves him, Arthur groans and falls back into bed. He pulls the duvet over his head and vows never to drink again.

*****

“So, how long are you gone for?” Arthur asks, as he and Merlin share their last lunch of the year.

“Till a bit after New Years,” Merlin replies.

“Cool, uh, tell your mam I said hi.”

“Will do. Do you think you’ll be able to make it to Christmas mass?”

“Hopefully, there’s supposed to be a big choir and re-enactment and everything,” Arthur tells him with an excited smile.

“Sounds like fun,” Merlin grins. “Mass at home is quiet, very solemn.”

“That’s not really full of Christmas cheer,” Arthur says, nose wrinkling.

“No, but afterwards mam and I go home, make some mulled wine, put on the Christmas classics record and dance around the sitting room.”

Arthur smiles at the image he has in his head of this – it’s wonderful and homey and so very different to Christmases at home, especially when Morgana harps on about Jesus. Which she definitely will do this year.

The two friends linger over finishing their lunches, but eventually they have to move. As they turn to say goodbye, Arthur pulls a package out of his pocket and thrusts it into Merlin’s hands.

“Happy Christmas,” he says nonchalantly.

“Thanks Arthur,” Merlin smiles.

He opens the package and laughs when he sees his present – a clock, with only two settings: ‘praying time’ and ‘party time’. He then reaches into his bag and pulls out a present for Arthur. Arthur opens it and his face softens when he sees the framed poster of the story of the Footprints in the Sand.

“Thank you,” he says appreciatively. “It’s… I love it.”

“Good,” Merlin smiles, and then grabs Arthur in a fierce hug. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“See you, happy Christmas,” Arthur replies, hugging him back.

They part and wave each other off, and if Arthur ends up sulking in his room for the next few days, well, he isn’t admitting that to anyone.

A few days later, Arthur receives a letter from Merlin, telling him about his journey home (sheep blocked the train line, and an old man started Irish dancing for everyone’s amusement), seeing his mam and Will again (Will literally clung to him for an hour) and putting up the Christmas decorations. Excited, Arthur wrote back, telling him about Gwen and Lance getting engaged, Uther and Morgana still arguing, and getting tinsel in his eye from trying to decorate the tree himself. Merlin and Arthur continue to exchange letters throughout the holiday, and for Arthur, they are a sweet respite from the tension at home. Morgana has decided to take it upon herself to remind Uther of the true meaning of Christmas, from bringing a manger into the house, to playing CDs of religious carols, to putting up pictures of the Holy Family. Uther viciously tears down and burns every single thing, and he and Morgana scream at each other for hours. Arthur is immensely glad when Pell and the guys come home, and he spends his days hanging with them, playing video games, having a few beers, listening to their college stories. The look of shock on their faces when he tells them he’s attending mass is hilarious, and naturally he endures a few days of good-natured slagging in return. He ends up going to Christmas Eve mass with them, sits in the back row and prays while laughing silently at their jokes and antics. He goes home that night feeling cheerful and certain that he has the greatest friends ever.

Christmas Day is sombre at best: a stony silence sits between Morgan and Uther, who refuse to even look at each other. Arthur spends most of the day outside with his hurl and sliotar, moving mostly just to keep warm, and in the evening, he jumps at his phone when it rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Merlin?”

“Yeah, hey, happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too. How’s your day going?”

“Great, Will came over and we spent most of the day playing Marvel vs. DC.”

“Oh cool, I love that game.”

“Yeah, it’s great. So… how’s things at home?”

“Not the best,” Arthur sighs. “Morgana put a crib up in her room a few days ago; Uther took it outside and burned it so she slapped him. They had a huge fight and haven’t spoken since.”

“Oh Arthur, that’s not fair on you at all.”

“It’s not so bad, my friends came back from college so I’ve been able to escape with them when needs be.

“Good. Look, I was wondering, would you like to come up to mine for New Years? We’re having a huge party. Ask Morgana, Gwen and Lance too.”

“Yeah, that sounds brilliant! I’ll ask them asap.”

“Great, let me know and I’ll give you details on how to get here.”

“Will do, talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Arthur hangs up and heads into Morgana’s room, where he finds said woman arranging another crib on her desk, a butcher knife beside it.

“Um, Morgana, what’s up with the knife?”

“If Uther tries to touch this one, I’ll stab him,” she informs him calmly, her eyes focused on her task.

“You know, you’re only – ugh, I am not getting involved. Merlin just rang; he wants to know if we’d like to go to his for New Years.”

“Oh! Okay,” Morgana smiles for the first time in days.

“Great, can you ask Gwen and Lance?”

“Sure thing.”

(part 6)

Dóchas Part 6

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:00:49 GMT

As it turns out, Gwen and Lance are away with family, so it’s just Arthur and Morgana who bundle onto the train on the way to Armagh. Merlin meets them at the train station; beside him is a woman who Arthur takes to be Hunith, and a man who Arthur believes is Will. Merlin greets them both with hugs, followed by Hunith, who hugs them both, and kisses them on the cheek.

“Welcome dears. I’m glad you could make it,” she says warmly.

“It’s our pleasure.” Arthur smiles. “Thank you for letting us come up to visit.”

Will steps up next; he shakes Morgana’s hand, and then regards Arthur critically.

“So, I hear you’re trying to lure Merlin to the dark side,” he eventually says.

“We have cookies.” Arthur grins in reply.

“Ha! Good luck with it.” Will laughs.

The group makes their way back to Hunith’s, and settle in – Morgana in the spare room, and Arthur on a blow-up mattress in Merlin’s room. The party that night is loud and merry – cheesy 80s tunes blast from a record player in the sitting room, Derek Mooney leads the celebrations on RTE, and there’s plenty of food and drink. As midnight approaches, everyone spills out to the back garden, where one of the neighbours, Edwin, has arranged a fireworks display.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Everyone cheers and hugs as Edwin lights the fireworks, and Arthur finds himself in a group hug with Merlin, Will and Morgana, singing ‘Auld Lang Sang’. Afterwards, everyone crowds back into the sitting room, for the favourite of party pastimes: singing. Another neighbour, Leon, whips out a guitar and starts off with “The Fields of Athenry,” everyone joining in for the rousing chorus. Afterwards, requests are called out, everything from Johnny Cash to The Rolling Stones to The Animals, and at one point Will drunkenly yells out, “Britney Spears!” Leon immediately complies, playing ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time,’ while Will shimmies around the floor and everyone cheers him on. The party starts to die down around 4am, and Arthur and Merlin stumble sleepily to bed around 6am.

“Happy New Year,” Merlin whispers as he climbs into bed. “I’m really glad you came.”

“Me too,” Arthur says happily, snuggling under his duvet. “Night.”

The next day, Will turns up, his face ashen.

“Will, what’s wrong?” Merlin asks worriedly.

“Daithi’s dead,” Will says numbly.

Merlin’s hand covers his mouth, and he then pulls Will into a fierce hug. “Oh Will, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, he died as he lived; battling the bubble clam.”

“That’s good.”

“Who’s Daithi?” Arthur asks, as Will goes hunting for chocolate.

“Will’s goldfish,” Merlin replies. “It was the last thing his dad gave him before he died.”

“Daithi was amazing!” Will wails around a mouthful of Cadburys.

“Then there’s only one thing to do,” Arthur says, clapping Will on the shoulder. “We’ll give him a proper send off: wake tonight and funeral tomorrow.”

About ten people gather in Will’s that night; Will’s sitting by the table, on top of which is a biscuit tin, lined with a pillowcase, and Daithi inside. Arthur can’t help staring at first: Daithi is HUGE and purple, with giant bulging eyes. He’s a very impressive-looking fish.

The wake goes as all wakes do: at the start, everyone sits around, murmuring between themselves and sipping on their drinks. Will can’t move, so people bring him drinks as they offer their condolences. As the night progresses, everyone’s getting steadily more and more drunk. The lamentations grow louder and wilder, and someone starts singing an old Irish song about a lost mermaid. In the middle of a rendition of ‘Nearer My God to Thee,’ Arthur suddenly has a BRILLIANT IDEA. As the song finishes, he clambers up on a chair, wobbles precariously, and then shouts, “It’s time for a decade of the rosary in honour of poor Daithi. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen!”

Everyone follows suit, and Arthur starts belting out Hail Mary’s, everyone else shouting out the response. To Arthur, it’s as much for Daithi and Will, as it is for Merlin, who’s looking at him as if he hung the moon. Arthur maintains eye contact with him as he finishes up the decade, and then bows, hops down off the chair, and saunters over to Merlin.

“Arthur!” Merlin says, both please and astonished. “You learnt the rosary!”

“You inspired me,” Arthur winks, and throws an arm around Merlin’s shoulder, feeling brash and confident.

Merlin leans ever-so-slightly into the touch and so Arthur leaves it there for the rest of the night.

The next day is a sombre affair. Everyone gathers in the garden, as Merlin, forced into a black shirt and paper white collar, says a few prayers over the now-closed biscuit box. When he’s done, Will places the box in the hole some people had dug the night before, and covers it up, sniffing loudly.

“May his soul rest in peace.”

Afterwards, everyone agrees that a fry-up is the needed thing, and as Merlin is apparently the best, he’s sent off to the kitchen to get the food cooked, while everyone else gathers in the sitting room to play cards. After a few rounds of poker, Arthur decides to go help, and makes his way out to the kitchen. He freezes though, just before the kitchen door, as he hears voices – Will’s and Merlin’s – speaking, and his name being mentioned. Edging closer, he listens to what they’re saying, his curiosity overcoming his respect for privacy.

“I know you’ve got your whole, ‘I don’t fancy anyone’ thing, but Arthur doesn’t, and HE, fancies YOU,” Will argues.

“No he doesn’t,” Merlin replies, sounding annoyed. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure sure, you’re just friends who hug and share meaningful glances,” Will snorts. “I mean, have you even seen yourself around him? You look at him like he’s the best thing since sliced bread! Anyone would swear that… well, DO you fancy him?”

There’s a pause, in which Arthur’s heart leaps right into his throat… only to go plummeting back down as Merlin replies firmly, “No. I’m going to become a priest Will, and even IF Arthur does fancy me, he knows that.”

Arthur feels something small and fragile deep inside him break, and he shuffles off to the back garden, where he finds Morgana indulging in a stolen cigarette. He wordlessly sits beside her and steals a drag, then curls up, staring blankly ahead.

“Arthur? There’s something… I don’t know if this is the best time but… I saw you’ve been with Merlin lately, and-”

“Save it Morgana,” Arthur interrupts morosely, “I know. He’s going to become a priest, there’s no point in having feelings for him.”

“Yeah,” Morgana says sadly. “You should try and find someone else yeah? I don’t want you to get hung up on this and get hurt.”

She pushes her second smoke and lighter into his hands, kisses him on the cheek, and goes back inside. Arthur smokes the cigarette quickly, willing his problems away with the smoke as he exhales, but he’s still glum once he’s finished.

“There you are,” a voice says, and Merlin pops his head out the front door. “Breakfast is ready. I wasn’t sure about the pork for you, given that Leviticus says not to eat animals with cloven hooves,” he teases.

“Leviticus says a lot of things,” Arthur replies snarkily. “If you’re so hung up on them, why don’t you help me sell Morgana? Or stone your neighbour – I saw, he’s growing wheat and barley beside each other.”

Merlin laughs and replies, “Well, aren’t you God’s Little Trooper. Come on, I didn’t slave over a hot stove for ye so your breakfast could get cold, mover your lazy arse.”

“Make me,” Arthur says cheekily.

Merlin puffs his chest out and says in his most authoritative voice, “The Power of Christ commands you!”

“I’m a person, not a demon,” Arthur scoffs. “Honestly Meeeerrrrlin.”

“How about, I fried you an extra egg?”

“Now you’re talking,” Arthur grins, standing up. “Lead the way my good man.”

Arthur should move on and forget about Merlin, he knows he should, but while he has this, even if it’ll never be anything more, it’s all he’ll ever want.

*****

The next few months fly by for Merlin – after Christmas, Father Gaius decides to start into the sacraments, and Merlin finds himself studying, practising and attending various different ceremonies – baptisms, communions, confirmations, weddings, funerals, last rites and ordinations of priests and nuns. He also starts rehearsals for his own ordination, and most excitingly, starts studying exorcisms. Father Gaius has him summoning angels every time he studies, and he’s at the stage where he barely has to think about it anymore. He wonders why his mentor has him doing this, and eventually can’t help but ask.

“I believe the angels will help you should you ever have to perform an exorcism,” the priest tells him. “I know what you did was miraculous, but Merlin, there are priests who have been driven nearly mad after performing an exorcism – perhaps the angels can shield you from such.”

Along with his lessons, he has his sessions with Gwen, which now includes talk of her wedding plans, and his time with Arthur. Arthur who’s loud and questioning, and kind, and understanding, and utterly brilliant, and Merlin, for the first time in his life, is starting to have FEELINGS. He’s not too sure what they mean, but they make him feel giddy and depressed all at once, make him smile whenever he thinks of the man, and make him want to shout from the rooftops and keep it all to himself simultaneously.

He blames Will: ever since their talk at New Years, all sorts of crazy thoughts keep popping into his head, and try as he might, he can’t chase them away. Though that doesn’t mean he can’t stop trying, and so, every time Arthur smiles at him, or looks at him a certain way, and his stomach swoops giddily, he blames it on something he ate. And look at him Arthur does – fond looks, full of affection that make him feel warm, and heated looks that make him shiver dangerously. He finds himself drawn to Arthur; leaning imperceptibly towards him, leaving causal touches on his shoulders and back, hugging him just a tad bit longer than necessary, all the while telling himself that it means nothing because they are JUST FRIENDS AND HE DOES NOT HAVE FEELING FOR ANYONE.

Easter arrives in late April, and Easter Sunday finds Merlin in Gwen and Lance’s with Arthur, the four of them playing Whist⁽⁴⁾: Arthur and Merlin against Gwen and Lance. According to Arthur, Morgana had once again tried to put something religious in her room to celebrate Easter; Uther had torn it asunder, causing a massive fight, and so, now they were taking each other out for dinner and a film to make up. This evening Merlin learns two things: one, Arthur is meant to be a leader of some sort of code-based operation, and two, he sucks at whist. As it comes to his turn, Arthur waggles his eyebrows, winks twice and touches his middle finger. Merlin stares in confusion at him, and hesitantly plays a three of spades. Arthur’s scowl tells him he may have been wrong. Gwen plays a better card and wins yet another trick for her and Lance.

“You idiot,” Arthur mouths at him.

Merlin sticks his tongue out at him, and thinks fondly, ‘You absolute numpty. I could just kiss y-”

He breaks that thought off abruptly, not wanting to acknowledge where exactly it is going. Arthur grins at him, and Merlin spends the rest of the game in a daze, half staring at Arthur’s mouth, and desperately trying to convince himself that he isn’t.

*****

“I’ve finished it,” Arthur grins as soon as Merlin opens the door. “I have now read the Bible.”

“Well done,” Merlin smiles, getting Arthur in. “So what did you think?”

Arthur lounges on the couch, all pleased-as-punch smiles and flushed cheeks, and Merlin feels his stomach jolt at the sight.

“Not bad,” Arthur admits. “The New Testament is quite good, and Revelations is cool.”

“I thought you’d like that book,” Merlin chuckles, taking a seat beside Arthur.

Arthur launches into a spiel about the story of Jesus walking on the water, and Merlin is drawn into a long conversation about the disciples, and the question of the gospels any of the rest might have written. Merlin and Arthur’s sessions have become this chatting type of time together, rather than Merlin doing most of the talking, and Merlin finds that this is one of his favourite times of the week. Arthur is very intelligent, and a mixture of thoughtful insight and passionate arguing that makes him great fun to talk and debate with.

Later that evening, Arthur turns to him and says, “So… I’ve been going to some of Morgana’s RCIA classes, and … I’m thinking of becoming a Catholic.”

Merlin gapes and replies, “Really? Are you sure, it’s a big step to take.”

“I know, and I’m sure,” Arthur tells him reassuringly. “You’ve helped me so much Merlin – a few years ago I was bullying people who were religious, but now, I can say that I’ve never been happier than I am being open to religion. There’s something about you Merlin, something that makes me want to be a better person, and not let you down.”

Arthur’s face is open and raw, and Merlin feels something fierce and wonderful rush down his spine.

“Arthur, you could never let me down,” he says with undisguised pride and affection. “I might have helped, but you’re the man who had the will to change, and you have the biggest, most open heart and mind I’ve come across in a long time.”

Arthur doesn’t hesitate, simply leans across and pulls Merlin into a tight hug. Merlin feels something pool in his belly, and loses himself in the embrace.

He is so screwed.

*****

Uther, not for the first time in his life, feels completely lost. This time though, it’s accompanied by an ache in his gut and a longing for something he rarely lets himself think about. How did things get so messed up? Once moment, Morgana was HIS Morgana – she played cards with him, stayed up late to watch cheesy horror films with him, talked to him about anything and everything. But now, she’s moody, distant, always arguing with him, always talking about… THAT. She keeps disappearing every Sunday, and Uther has the most terrible feeling of what she’s up to, but refuses to think of it, for fear of what he might do. Can she not see that she is on the path to madness? It’s these friends of hers, they’ve twisted her mind and turned her against him, and Uther knows only one way to respond to the mad things she says: anger. This is very easy for him, as he is already angry at so much – at Morgana for changing and abandoning him, at God for doing nothing but bring him misery and strife, at the world and life in general. He’s so angry he feels he could burn up at any moment, and he wishes with all his might that Morgana would be a cooling salve on his tormented soul, as she was once before.

At this moment, Morgana arrives back into his office, having closed up the front of the shop and emptied the cash register, and Uther’s heart leaps at the sight of her smile.

“All done,” she says breezily, putting the cash register money down and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Uther fights the urge to turn his head into the kiss by reminding himself that it’s wrong, wrong, wrong – Morgana is thirteen years his junior, and he’s been looking after her since she was sixteen for Christ’s sake. But the truth of the matter is that Morgana has never felt like anything more than someone he cares for deeply, and that has never changed.

“Thank you,” he smiles at her. “You head home; I’ve got a couple more things to sort out.”

Morgana smiles and takes a seat beside him, leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder, just as she’s always done when it’s just the two of them. Uther smiles, kisses the top of her head, and carries on with the paperwork, Morgana watching.

A companionable silence sits between them, when Morgana suddenly murmurs, “There’s an art show coming to town I was thinking of going to see. It’s all Italian Renaissance painters, you know, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, all of them.”

Uther freezes, and his blood run cold. He knows exactly what kind of things are in those painting: representations of a vile system, and he’ll have no part of it.

“No,” he says abruptly, and winces as Morgana stiffens and pulls away.

“Why not?” She asks angrily.

“You know why,” he replies just as angrily.

“No I don’t – they’re just paintings Uther!”

“They are not just paintings Morgana, they are a representation-”

“Of a vile and cruel system blah blah blah,” Morgana interrupts nastily. “Save it for someone who cares, or at least come up with some new lines.”

Her face then softens and she says pleadingly, “Uther, you’re cutting so much out of your life because of this hatred. You were happy and free once, when you had faith, when you were a reverend, when-”

“When the love of my life was alive?” Uther asks coldly.

Morgana flinches as if struck, hurt evident in her eyes, and Uther thinks this is it, this is when whatever thing is between them shatters and dies, this is when he’ll lose her for good. Uther looks away, angry and ashamed, and is surprised when Morgana speaks.

“Yes, when your wife was alive,” she agrees softly. “But do you think she would have wanted this for you? For you to throw away everything you and her believed in? For you to raise Arthur to hate a God she loved? For you,” and at this she breaks off, and then speaks, her voice thick with emotion, “For you to never fall in love again?”

Uther feels something inside him snap at the horrible truths she’s just spoken.

Turning on her, he stands and walks right into her space, growling viciously, “How DARE you speak of Ygraine! You didn’t know her, you never will! You think you know so much, but you’re just a child, spoilt and petty and looking for attention; it’s pathetic. The truth is, you know nothing!”

Morgana grabs the collar of his shirt and drags him in for a fierce and bruising kiss. It lasts all of ten seconds, before she pushes him away and slaps him across the face, eyes blazing.

“I know YOU, Uther Pendragon,” she spits out, and then storms off, leaving Uther standing in the middle of the office, wondering what the hell just happened.

*****

It’s official: Merlin is FREAKED OUT. There’s no point in denying it anymore – he has feeling for Arthur, squishy, romantic feeling that are most definitely not platonic, and rather, border on thoughts of kissing and other terribly sinful and inappropriate things. He had even woken up this morning after having a horrific dream about kissing and touching a naked Arthur, and had woken up… excited, and therefore, is now curled up in the bathroom hyperventilating, tears streaming down his cheeks and surrounded by angels.

“Please,” he sobs, “tell me what’s going on. Is there something wrong with me? Is this a test from God – a test of my devotion, of my faith? Please, give me a sign, tell me something, anything!”

But as always, the angels are silent. Their warmth seems suddenly colder, and they fade away as Merlin cries his poor, confused heart out.

*****

Of course, even though he’s upset and confused, he can’t stay away from Arthur, can’t imagine not being around him, and so, Merlin finds himself dutifully turning up for Friday night hanging out, a bag of junk food with him. They’re hanging out in Arthur’s for the first time, as Morgana’s gone to stay with Gwen and Lance for a while, preparing for her baptism, and Uther, oddly enough, has gone for a weekend away in Cork. According to Arthur, Morgana and Uther are avoiding each other, though why, he has no idea.

Arthur opens the door with a giant smile, and Merlin feels warm and happy and sick to his core.

“You got the goods?” Arthur asks, in a fake ‘Russian spy’ accent.

Merlin grins, looks around shiftily and then holds up the bag, while saying, “The system?”

“Set up and good to go.”

“Excellent.”

The two friends traipse into the sitting room, where the XBOX 360 awaits. Merlin dumps the content of the bag on the floor, and the games begin. At one point during the first game, Arthur nudges Merlin, causing him to lose control and send his character driving off the track, and that sets up the tone for the night. Throughout the games, they constantly nudge and shout at each other, trying to psyche each other out. Merlin can’t stop laughing as he shoves against Arthur, who’s trying to tickle him with his feet. He’s having so much fun he’s forgotten why he was ever miserable or confused, because this is just brilliant.

Arthur suddenly shoves his foot in Merlin’s face, and Merlin yells and jumps on top of him, sitting on Arthur’s chest as he finishes the race in first place.

“Nice tr-YYYYY!”

He yells as Arthur grabs him round the waist and flips them over. Controllers tossed to one side, the two men tussle and wrestle around the floor, high on adrenaline and endorphins. Arthur reaches to tickles Merlin, and Merlin squirms out of his hold and tries to grab his hands. He suddenly finds an opening, and in a flash, he has Arthur pinned against the couch, his legs curled around Arthur’s thighs, and his hands holding the other man’s wrists firmly. Arthur tries to struggle free, but Merlin pushes in and down, keeping him in place. Merlin feels Arthur’s chest heaving against his, and suddenly realises just how close they are. He can’t help but stare into Arthur’s eyes, which are nearly black, his pupils are so diluted. Arthur’s gaze is heated and devouring, and Merlin leans in some more, wanting something he has no idea about. Arthur licks his lips, and Merlin feels something spike and pool in his groin and suddenly, he’s… oh Holey shit.

Arthur looks startled, and Merlin realises he’s said that last part out loud. Panic races through him and he quickly springs up, eyes wide and breathing becoming irregular.

“I, uh… I’ve got...”

He can’t speak, can’t think past what it is he’s almost done, and so, just turns and runs out the door and down the road until he’s back and safe in his bed. He prays and prays and summons angels for comfort and guidance, but it’s not working, and so he curls up in a ball of misery and hopes that sleep will help.

The worst thing is, he still wants to see Arthur, talk with him, laugh and hang with him. Despite all the trouble the man brings him, Merlin cannot let him go, cannot stop thinking about him, and it hits him with a start: he’s in sodding love with Arthur.

*****

“Father, um… what if… no – have you ever… I mean, surely there have been priests before… I just want to know how to stop it.”

“Merlin my boy, what on Earth are you talking about?” Father Gaius asks in a confused tone.

Merlin sighs miserably, staring down at his hands, and then answers softly, “Nothing, I don’t know.”

Maybe he’ll have better luck with Gwen.

“Gwen, I… I don’t know anymore,” he says desperately at their session. “It was all so simple and clear before – I was going to become a priest and that was that, but now… now there are all these feelings, and I’m so confused and… and what if it means my faith is waning? It doesn’t feel like that, but what if I’m not as devoted as I was before?”

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,” Gwen says soothingly, taking his hands in hers. “Do you still believe in God?”

“Of course.”

“And you still love him?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s okay,” she says brightly. “Your ordination is in two weeks, it’s natural to get cold feet or have doubts so close to such a big thing, but you’ll be fine.”

Merlin smiles wanly and curses his inability to explain this properly, and Gwen’s inability to be psychic. There’s only one thing to do: he’s just going to have to avoid Arthur for the next two weeks.

*****

(part 7)

Dóchas Part 7

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 20:41:15 GMT

Arthur stares miserably at the letter from the CAO board, as they cheerfully inform him that he had gotten his first choice – Health Science and Physiology in Sligo IT, which means that he can stay at home and go to college. He should have chosen something far away, in Dublin, or Carlow, or Cork, or England, but like an eejit, he of course had chosen the course that would allow him to stay close to Merlin. Merlin who he hasn’t seen since the video game night over two weeks ago. The night that Arthur can’t stop thinking about, can’t help but imagine going different – where Merlin didn’t run away, but instead kept leaning in until they… Arthur shivers and shakes his head, disgusted with himself. There is absolutely no point in thinking about that – Merlin’s never going to speak to him again. Arthur’s thinking about if he could possibly change his first choice, when there’s a knock on the front door.

Frowning, Arthur goes to the door, wondering who it is: Uther’s still at work, and Morgana’s off getting baptised, so Arthur decided to stay at home – telling Morgana that he’ll cover for her if Uther closes up early, but knowing it’s because he doesn’t want to see Merlin; it’s too painful. When he opens the door, his breath leaves him in a rush as he beholds Merlin standing in front of him, his expression wretched and broken.

“Hey,” Merlin says softly, offering a wan smile.

Arthur crosses his arms and replies, “Hello,” his tone guarded. “Shouldn’t you be at Morgana’s initiation?”

“The church is not the mafia,” Merlin snorts, then sniffs and asks, “Can I come in? Please?”

Arthur nods and steps into the house, Merlin following. Merlin shuts the door and then stands facing it, while Arthur waits, not trusting himself to speak.

“Arthur, I… I’m sorry about that night. I wanted to explain,” Merlin says, still facing the door.

“Okay, go ahead,” Arthur replies distantly.

Merlin sighs and says, “Ever since… I’ve never met anyone like you Arthur, you’re so different from everyone, and you understand me like no one ever has. I thought that what I felt for you was just really intense friendship, but lately I’ve realised it’s something… more.”

Hope and fear spark up in Arthur’s chest, and his voice shakes as he asks, “What do you mean by more?”

“I mean, for the first time in my life, I have feelings for someone, feelings that are scary and overwhelming, and make me want things I don’t even understand.”

At this Merlin whips around and stares Arthur right in the eye. He takes a step towards Arthur, and Arthur takes a step forward in return, feeling giddy, nervous, and unsure.

“Arthur, I planned on coming here tonight, and telling you that despite that, I’m going to have my ordination tomorrow and become a priest, but when I look at you-” Merlin takes another step, and Arthur can’t move, can’t breathe, can barely hear above the erratic thumping of his heart. “I look at you and I want-” another step, “I want to touch, and hold, and…” At this, Merlin stops talking, his face right in Arthur’s.

There’s a breathless pause, and suddenly, they’re kissing, frantic and desperate. Neither knows which moved first into it, but they don’t care, simply wrap themselves tightly together, almost trying to fuse together through their kisses. Arthur moans brokenly as Merlin licks slowly into his mouth, sloppy and desperate. Arthur feels crazed with desire, not fully able to believe he has this right here. Trying to reassure himself, he runs his hands up Merlin’s arms and down his back. He hold Merlin’s small waist between his hands, lust spiking through him at how well Merlin fits against him. Merlin sucks in a sharp breath, and suddenly his hands are everywhere: clutching at Arthur’s shoulders, running through his hair, down his thighs, and then grabbing his ass, pulling him forward. Before Arthur realises what’s happening, Merlin’s up against the front door, pulling Arthur against him. Arthur pulls away from the kiss with a groan as their erections brush against one another, and his hips start moving automatically, grinding against Merlin’s. Merlin lets out a sharp cry, and then whimpers, his eyes wide open and glazed, as his head falls back against the door. Arthur gazes at the long expanse of skin before him, and is helpless to do anything but lean in and taste it, his hips still going, working up to a frantic pace. Merlin moans loudly, his hands working up to clutch at Arthur’s hair, and his legs falling open as his hips move in time with Arthur’s. Merlin’s breaths are stuttered, and Arthur’s panting so quickly he feels he can barely breathe. Their movements take on a primal, feral edge, and Merlin bites down on Arthur’s shoulder and groans as he climaxes, sending Arthur over the edge with him.

They remain still for a few minutes, melting against each other as they catch their breath, but Arthur’s euphoric afterglow is smashed as Merlin stiffens and then pushes him away, his expression one of disgust and horror.

“What have I? …Oh god.”

Merlin fumbles with the front door, opens it and runs without so much as a glance at Arthur, who crumples into a heap on the ground, his heart broken. After what feels like a lifetime, Arthur stands, anger and determination coursing through him – there is NO WAY Merlin is getting away from him without a fight! Arthur runs out the front door, past a startled Uther on his way home, and down the road to the priest’s house. Father Gaius looks surprised to see him, and tells him that he hasn’t seen Merlin since before Morgana’s ceremony, but maybe he’s at the after party in the church hall. Be the time Arthur gets there, it’s over and the hall is empty. Feeling lost and confused, he runs around the whole town, going everywhere and anywhere, but after three hours of searching, he hasn’t found Merlin. Feeling utterly defeated and wretched, he slowly walks home… and into a war zone.

*****

As Father Gaius closes the front door on a distraught-looking Arthur, Merlin bursts in through the back door, his eyes crazy and his appearance dishevelled, as if he’d been running through fields and hedgerows.

“Merlin! What’s going on, Arthur’s just here-” he begins, turning to open the front door.

“No!!” Merlin yells, springing forward.

He falls at Father Gaius’ feet and starts sobbing. “Please Father, please forgive me, please please.”

Extremely worried, Father Gaius kneels beside Merlin and says, “My dear boy, what’s the matter? What is it you need forgiveness for?”

“Oh Father, I’ve sinned, I’ve sinned so badly,” Merlin chokes out, and then proceeds to tell the old priest everything; the progression of his feeling for Arthur, his dreams and desires, all culminating in what had happened this evening.

“Merlin, please, do not be so distraught,” Father Gaius says soothingly. “You are not the first trainee, or priest to fall in love.”

“But, but, how can I go through with my ordination when this has happened?” Merlin asks desperately.

“Perhaps you are not meant to.”

“But it’s my vocation!”

“How do you know? Was this vocation not chosen for you by Bishop Kilgarragh?”

“Well, yes… but what about the exorcism?”

“It was a miracle yes, but not a definite sign. You already have a deep connection to God; perhaps priesthood is not needed to strengthen that.”

“But why would I end up going through all these years of training for nothing?”

“Really? They were for nothing? Merlin, if you hadn’t had done all of this, would you have ever met Arthur?”

“…No…”

“Then it wasn’t for nothing. Perhaps your vocation is not to serve God through the priesthood, but to serve him by helping Arthur foster love and faith in God again.”

“God wants me to be in a relationship with Arthur?” Merlin asks doubtfully.

“Perhaps. As long as you have love and happiness, then God is happy.”

“…I don’t know, I need to go away for a while, maybe go back home,” Merlin tells him.

Merlin stands, and helps Father Gaius up.

“Thank you Father, I’m sorry to have let you down.”

“Nonsense my boy, you haven’t let me down at all. You’ve discovered and accepted who you are – I couldn’t be prouder.”

Merlin’s eyes water slightly, and he gives a short nod before going to pack. Once he’s done, he hugs Father Gaius goodbye, and slips off into the night.

*****

Arthur stares around him in shock and disbelief as he walks into his house: furniture is turned over, there are glasses and dishes smashed, pictures are torn, and Uther sits in the middle of it all, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Dad…what happened?” Arthur asks in a small, concerned voice.

Uther doesn’t move, except to take another drink, and then say hollowly, “Morgana is gone.”

“What? Why?” Arthur asks, walking over to his father and grabbing his shoulder.

“She…she has betrayed us.”

Uther sniffs, gulps down another mouthful, then another, and then says thickly, “it is the utmost betrayal, and deceit… for months she has deceived us, has been going to that… hell-hole, and now she joins it? How… how can she do that to me?” He whispers brokenly, and bursts into tears.

Arthur knows exactly what has happened, and while he worries for Morgana, secretly he is selfishly glad that he’s not alone in his misery tonight. Silently, he starts to clean the living room, while Uther cries and shakes the grief out of him.

“Of course I told him I became a Catholic,” Morgana tells him when he finds her at Gwen and Lance’s the next day. “I wasn’t going to lie anymore, not to him, not about myself.”

She looks like a total mess; her hair is limp, her skin blotchy and her eyes are red and puffy. Arthur settles on the couch beside her and pulls her into a hug. Morgana buries her face in his neck, sniffs loudly, and gives a soft sob.

“He called me a deceitful whore, and told me that he’d sooner gouge his eyes out than ever see me again, and then he threw a dish me.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him he was a coward and a disgrace and if Ygraine could see him now she’d be ashamed of having ever loved him.”

Arthur flinches, and Morgana says, “Sorry, I was angry.”

“I know. So then what happened?”

“He called me every name under the sun, and then cursed my soul to damnation while he flung some more glasses and dishes around. Then he told me I had a minute to grab my things and leave, so I did.”

Arthur hugs her tightly and rubs her back. They sit in silence, before he suddenly blurts out, “He’s a mess.”

“Good.”

“I think he might hurt himself.”

“I hope he does.”

“Morgana…”

“Ugh, fine, just… look, watch out for him okay?” As much of an asshole as he is, I still care about him.”

“I know, and he cares about you too – he wouldn’t be in a such a state if he didn’t.”

“I find that difficult to believe, but it’s nice to think.”

Morgana settles fully against Arthur, and Arthur tries to think of a way to fix all this, while his heart continually aches for Merlin.

Two months pass, and while Arthur hasn’t had sight nor sound of Merlin, he still continues to look: at Mass, in Moira’s, around the town. He even tries to ring Merlin, but the line is dead. The ache remains as strong and constant as ever, but it must be ignored in favour of getting on with life. Uther is still a mess – if he’s not drunk and crying, he’s sleeping, or yelling in fits of hung-over madness. He only eats when Arthur forces him too, and rarely leaves his bedroom, let alone his house. Arthur’s forced to close the bookshop for two weeks, and only manages to reopen it when Gwen and Lance offer to help out. At this stage, Arthur’s starting college; he enjoys the course, but doesn’t make many friends as he must run home for work as soon as lectures are over. He doesn’t mind though, as the busier he is, the less time he has to dwell on his own grief. Morgana’s faring a little better – thanks to Gwen and Lance, she’s going to her night course and to mass, and has joined the church folk choir, but she refuses to go near the bookshop, and every time Arthur sees her, even when she’s smiling she looks inherently sad.

Eventually though, it gets to the point when Arthur can’t take the stress and loneliness his life has taken on, and he does the only thing he can think of.

“That’s it,” he says authoritatively, as Uther blinks at him confusedly in the early morning light, “I’ve put up with two months of your moping and I’m sick of it. Get up and get dressed, we’re going to see Morgana.”

“What? Where?” Uther asks, moving to get out of bed.

“At mass.”

Uther’s face twists up angrily, and he growls out, “Listen here boy, we are not-”

“No you listen,” Arthur interrupts stubbornly. “You’re supposed to be my father, but for the past two months, I’ve been cleaning up after you. Gwen and Lance are the only reason your bookshop is still running, and mass is the only thing that’s been keeping Morgana sane and happy!”

“But… you-”

“I have been going to mass for over a year now. And you know what? It’s helped me find peace and happiness for the first time since before mother died.”

Arthur’s startled to realise that there are tears running down his cheeks. He wipes his face roughly, while Uther stares at him astonished.

“God didn’t kill her Uther, he couldn’t control that. But he was there for us, in the people that helped us, and the strength we had. He comforted and carried us when he most needed him. We were wrong to turn our backs on him.”

“Arthur, please…”

“Save it,” Arthur snaps. “I’m going to mass, and I’m going to see Morgana. You can come if you want to.”

With that, Arthur walks out and into his room to get dressed. As he steps out the front door, Uther appears, dressed in a suit and looking nervous, but determined. They walk to the church, and enter just as the service is beginning. Arthur spots Morgana sitting with the choir at the side of the altar; she sees them, and looks shocked, but remains clam, and when communion service starts, she stands and sings a solo.

“Beautiful…” Arthur hears Uther murmurs, and he turn to see his father, tears streaming down his cheeks, watching Morgana in awe. “She’s an angel.”

After a service, Arthur waits outside with Uther, for Morgana to come out. She approaches them with trepidation, her expression mixed.

“Morgana… you were wonderful,” Uther says softly.

“Thank you,” Morgana replies stiffly.

“I… Morgana, I am so very truly sorry,” Uther blurts out, his eyes watering. “I was wrong. I regret all the things I said, and I miss you so much-”

Morgana pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair while whispering, “Shh shh, it’s okay, I’m sorry too. I love you Uther Pendragon, you silly, stubborn man.”

Uther wraps his arms around her, and replies, “I love you too.”

Arthur finally sees and accepts what’s probably always been between them, and feeling happy that his gamble paid off, walks off to give them privacy.

As he leaves the church grounds, he hears an oh-so-familiar and so very missed voice say, “Morgana’s a lovely singer, I had no idea.”

Arthur whips around, and gapes at Merlin who’s leaning against a wall, smiling nervously at him.

“Merlin,” is all that comes out of Arthur’s mouth before he takes two strides forward and pulls Merlin into a desperate, hungry kiss.

“You,” he says accusingly after he’s pulled back. “Where were… I’ve been looking, this whole time.”

All of the loneliness and heartache he’s been holding at bay hits him at once, and he crumples forward, his frame shaking with his sobs.

“Oh Arthur, Arthur,” Merlin says distressed, “I’m so sorry for leaving you like that, please, please don’t cry.”

He hugs Arthur close, and Arthur clings on, letting himself go, before the worst of it passes, and he feels calmer. Pulling himself together, he steps back and crosses his arms.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” Merlin replies. “Arthur… that night… I… I freaked out. I was so scared – I was supposed to be having my ordination the next day, and I’d just committed a sin, and a pretty big one too. I just… I felt lost, I didn’t know what to do, or think, and I just, I had to go. I’m so sorry Arthur, and I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but I have to tell you… Arthur I love you, more than faith or religion or the priesthood or, or-”

Arthur cuts him off with a kiss, and they lost themselves in it for a few moments.

“Promise me,” Arthur says breathlessly as he pulls back, “you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise,” Merlin vows solemnly.

“Good, because I’m never going to love anyone as much as I love you.”

Merlin beams and pulls Arthur into another, longer kiss.”

*****

Arthur and Merlin move into a flat together near the IT: Merlin gets a job in the physics lab in NUIG and starts checking out PhDs, and he and Arthur get to know each other all over again in all sorts of new and wonderful ways. There are times when Merlin goes through a fit of guilt over leaving the priesthood: at these times, Arthur knows best to leave him to pray and afterwards, brings him a cup of tea and hugs him until he feels better. Eventually, these times become fewer and farther in between, and Arthur’s filled with joy to see Merlin so relaxed and happy. They continue to discuss religion and go to mass, and make plans for Arthur to become a Catholic.

Uther and Morgana are doing much better: Uther goes to mass, and he and Morgana go for lunch on Sundays with Arthur, Merlin, Gwen and Lance. Morgana looks radiantly happy, and Uther looks and acts more open and relaxed then Arthur has ever seen before.

One Sunday, after getting back from lunch, Merlin takes Arthur’s hand and says, part nervously, part excitedly, “There’s something I want to show you.”

“Okay ,” Arthur says, curiosity washing over him.

Merlin leads him into the bedroom and sits him down on the bed, taking a seat opposite him. He takes Arthur’s hands, smiles at him and then closes his eyes. Almost instantly, the room is full of glowing white beings, and Arthur gapes in wonder at them.

“What are they?” he asks.

“Angels,” Merlin replies. “I’ve always been able to summon them. Only three other people know about this, but you’re the only one I’ve voluntarily told.”

He opens his eyes, and Arthur sucks in a breath at the sight of his pupils glowing a brilliant gold. At once, he feels the angels brushing against him, feels the love and warmth radiating off them and feels pure contentment.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Merlin smiles, the gold in his eyes fade and so too do the angels.

“I want you to know every part of me,” Merlin tells him. “Even the weird parts.”

Arthur kisses him softly, and says, “I love every bit of you, even the weird bits.”

Merlin laughs and pulls him down on top of him for more kissing, and the two men lose themselves in each other. And later on that night, Arthur watches Merlin sleep, a loving smile on his face. He feels hope swell in his chest and knows, no matter what, they can take on anything together.

THE END

(notes)

Merlin Big Bang: Dóchas Notes

phys_nut — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 20:21:47 GMT

(1) What Arthur's playing is a game called hurling, an official irish sport. Check out this youtube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmzivRetelE

(2) CAO is the Central Application Office, and it's how students apply for university/college courses: http://homepage.eircom.net/~kennedyr/college/3-form.html

(3) Spit is a two player card game, where the object is to get rid of all your cards. Here's a list of the rules: http://www.pagat.com/patience/spit.html

(4) Whist is a card game where people pair up in teams of two facing each other and try to win rounds, or tricks. Here's a full list of rules: http://www.pagat.com/whist/whist.html

Fic: Mayfly

phys_nut — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 11:44:44 GMT

Title: Mayfly
Author: phys_nut
Beta: lost_stray_cat
Pairing/s: Albus/Scorpius
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Character death, male/male sex but nothing crazily graphic, angst
Length: 6,267
Summary: Abus and Scorpius have only one day left…
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction set in the Harry Potter universe – all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work. I also do not own Seamus Heaney, or his wonderful poem “Valediction.”
Author's Notes: First of all, I’d like to give a big GIGANTIC thank you! To my beta lost_stray_cat, she is absolutely wonderful and this story wouldn’t be half as brilliant (and grammatically correct/free of bad spelling) if it wasn’t for her! :D Secondly, for anyone who doesn’t know, a car-boot sale is basically a junk or second-hand sale, where people gather in a field and sell off stuff that they own/make/whatever but don’t want anymore. Usually it’s out of the boot of their car, hence the name! It’s actually quite fun to go to one; you can find really interesting knick-knacks there! Also, the reference to Heaney, is to a poet called Seamus Heaney, and the line is from a poem of his called “Valediction,” very beautiful, and can be read here. Hope you enjoy the story!

Mayfly

The dawning sun crept slowly up the sky, its rays penetrating a dim, quiet apartment. The still air suddenly wavered and a young man apparated into the apartment with an audible ‘pop’. Albus ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily as he flopped back down on his couch. Yawning, he pulled out his wand and cast a quick ‘tempus,’ groaning when he saw it was 6am.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, “bloody parents, bloody James, bloody Lily, bloody everything!”

The previous morning, like so many other times before, Albus had been woken up by Lily casting aguamenti on his head and dragging him out of bed to floo to Grimmauld Place and help her and James deal with their parents. Harry and Ginny, as Albus had been calling them for years, had started arguing once again – over their jobs or the war, or whatever had come up this time – just as they had been ever since Albus was fifteen, and just like every other time over the past seven years, the arguing had escalated into full-blown duelling, which their children had to sort out.

Albus had stumbled out of the floo in his pyjamas, ducked without thinking as a curse flew over where his head had been, and had cast a quick charm on Harry, pinning him to one wall, while James had done the same to Ginny. A quick expelliarmus from Lily, and they had been ready to begin the “peace talks.” It had taken the better part of the day to calm Harry and Ginny down, and get them talking amicably again. Albus had cooked up a nice family meal, after which his parents had disappeared upstairs to make up properly, leaving the three siblings to share a bottle of firewhiskey, catch up on each other’s lives, and give out about their parents. After a few hours, James and Lily had retired to bed, but Albus, unable to sleep, had apparated back to his apartment, hoping distance from the source of his unease would help him relax.

His parents’ relationship had always boggled him: when they loved one another, it was with a passion none could rival, but when they hated each other, they hated each other with an intensity that frightened Albus, and he was surprised neither had cast an Unforgiveable on the other yet. Dealing with their arguments always shook him to the core, and upheld his belief that relationships were nothing but dangerous traps, within which the good was completely blanked out by the bad. Albus had always been terribly jealous of James and Lily, who never seemed so affected by their parents' marriage troubles, and were in perfectly happy relationships with Teddy and Frank Longbottom respectively.

Truth be told though, there was only one person that Albus wanted, and that was his flatmate and best friend. Scorpius. Although he and Scorpius had been sorted into Slytherin and Gryffindor respectively, thanks to James befriending the blond teen, they had been near constantly around each other, and a love of cars had sealed their friendship, so much so that they had spent nearly every holiday together, and moved in together after Hogwarts; Albus working as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, and Scorpius in the Department for Muggle Artefacts.

They had also come out to each other as being gay in sixth year, and had shared their trepidation when it came to relationships. Like Albus, Scorpius had been greatly affected by his parents' relationship, or rather non-existent relationship, given that they didn’t speak to one another unless necessary, and lived completely separate lives. Albus and Scorpius both agreed that the prospect of ending up like their parents terrified them, and had both sworn off relationships. And yet, it was impossible to ignore the tension that lay thick between them. If there was ever anyone who Albus would want to try dating, it was Scorpius. He was funny, adventurous, always willing to try something at least once, caring, and as a bonus, totally gorgeous. Albus found it so easy to talk to him – they fit together so well, and it was all-too-frequently lately he found himself imagining what it would be like to be with Scorpius, in every way: to hold him, kiss him, love him…

He was almost sure that his friend felt the same – they had secret looks, secret signals, private touches and hugs that lasted much longer then friendly ones should. There had been a moment, last New Year’s, when they had shared a drunken kiss at the stroke of midnight, and after staring wide-eyed at each other, were about to lean in for a proper one, when Lily had burst into the room, screamed, “Happy New Year!” and had showered them both with hugs and kisses, effectively ruining whatever moment had been building up. They continued to dance around each other and their ‘not,’ feelings for one another, and while Albus was desperate to tell Scorpius how he felt, he was also desperate not to tell him. In effect, he was stuck.

Scowling, Albus tossed his wand in the direction of the coffee table, looking up in surprise when its landing made a crinkling sound rather than the usual thud of wood on wood. Sitting up, he spied his wand, lying on top of a folded up piece of parchment, upon which was written his name in Scorpius’ writing. Curiosity overcame him, and he stood, walked over to the table and picked up the parchment, which he unfolded and read. As he did so, his eyes widened, and a large smile slowly spread across his lips. He let out a short happy laugh, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. Once he had finished the letter, he read it again and again, and then slowly put it into his pocket. He remained frozen for a few minutes more, hand still over his mouth, upon which was still a ridiculously happy smile.

“He…” he whispered, “he…Scorp…”

Snapping out of his trance, he sprinted out of the living room and burst into Scorpius’ room, shouting out, “Scorp! I l-“

He broke off and frowned as he noticed how the blond man was lying in the very rumpled bed, so still. Too still.

“Scorp?” Albus said softly, a bad feeling creeping into his chest, “Scorp?”

Slowly, he walked into the room, and knelt by the bed. With a trembling hand, he reached out to touch his friend’s cheek, his breath catching when he felt that it was ice cold.

“No…no!” he cried desperately, hands scrabbling at the covers to feel frantically at Scorpius’ neck for a pulse.

It took him several moments to slow his hands enough to place them on the right spot, and even then, they trembled violently.

Nothing.

Not even a faint patter.

Not even an echo.

Albus stared mutely at the body in the bed, his mind racing in circles as it started to dawn on him what was going on. His hands trembled, his body shuddered and his throat tightened up as he shook his head stubbornly.

“Scorp, Scorpius no,” he whispered brokenly, “you have to wake up! You’re fine, you’re fine, you were great yesterday, and this is all a joke, or-or a nightmare, or-or-ANYTHING BECAUSE YOU’RE JUST NOT! You’re…you’re no – you can’t leave me,” he dry-sobbed, voice cracking.

Albus’ head was in turmoil; he wanted to cling to Scorpius and try to osmose the life back into him, he wanted to slap him and shake him and scream at and plead with him. He’d do anything for his friend to wake up.

“Help…he needs help,” Albus said, frantically turning and half running, half-crawling back out to the living room.

He threw a handful of powder in the direction of the fireplace, yelling out, “I need St. Mungos right now!”

“Hello, please indicate the nature of the medical emergency,” a dull voice said, and a witches head popped up in the ashes.

“I need some mediwizards over here straight away,” Albus told her quickly, “It’s my friend, he’s, he’s,” he took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “he won’t wake up.”

“Okay, do you know if he took a self-brewed sleeping potion last night?” the witch asked in a bored tone.

“That’s not it!” Albus yelled furiously, “I think he’s dead!”

“Oh,” the witch nodded, eyes widening only marginally, “well that’s very different from not waking up. The mediwizards will be with you shortly, please clear your floo.”

Albus huffed and stood up, moving back. Shortly, the fire flared green, and two mediwizards stepped out.

“Hello sir,” one said, smiling gently, “you said your flatmate has passed away?”

“Yes,” Albus nodded, a wave of numbness washing over him as he concentrated on getting help to Scorpius, “I got back about ten minutes ago, he’s usually up at this time for work, so I went to talk to him, and found him…he’s so cold, and – and h-he has no pulse,” he gasped out, fighting to remain calm.

“You did well to call us Mr. Potter,” the mediwizard smiled, obviously recognizing him, while the second headed down the hall, “Are you family of the patient?”

“No, I’m just…I’m just a friend,” Albus replied quietly.

“Would you be able to get in contact with his nearest living relatives?”

“Sure, I’ll call them now.”

The mediwizard nodded and smiled in thanks, then followed his co-worker down the hall, while Albus turned back to the fireplace. He was completely shook up, and it took several moments of deep breathing to settle himself enough to grab some floo powder and call out, “Malfoy Manor,” as he threw it in the fireplace.

“Hello sir, Malfoy Manor, how is Wibble serving you today?” a squeaky voice asked, as an elf’s head popped up in the fireplace.

“Hello Wibble, are Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy in today?” Albus asked, only a slight tremor in his voice.

“Mrs. Malfoy is away, but Mr. Malfoy is present sir.”

“Great, could you go get him for me please?”

“Yes sir, Wibble is getting him right away sir,” the elf nodded eagerly, and its head disappeared, only to be replaced by Draco’s moments later.

He yawned, blinked sleepily at Albus and half-heartedly snapped, “Albus, what in Merlin’s name are you doing floo calling at this hour of the morning?”

“Draco – it’s Scorpius,” Albus said, then swallowed thickly and continued, “he’s…you need to come over.”

Draco’s eyes widened, and his head suddenly disappeared out of the fireplace. Seconds later, the fire flashed green, and a pyjamas and dressing gown-clad Draco gracefully stepped through, his face pale and eyes wild.

He gripped Albus’ upper arms and asked worriedly, “What’s wrong Albus, where’s Scorpius, what’s happened?”

“I…I only got home a while ago, and he…I…” Albus began, his throat tightening, and his brain refusing to fully acknowledge the situation.

“What, he what?” Draco snapped, impatience and fear leaking into his voice.

“Mr. Malfoy,” a voice said, and Albus looked over to see the mediwizard who had spoken to him earlier.

“Who are you?” Draco demanded.

“My name is Gareth, I’m a mediwizard with St. Mungos,” the mediwizard replied.

Draco’s face further paled, and Gareth continued in a soft, sympathetic voice, “I’m afraid your son passed away late last night.”

Draco’s grip on Albus’ arm tightened to the point of extreme pain, and then suddenly slackened, and as the man spoke, he shook his head slowly.

“No, no, he couldn’t…Scorpius…SCORPIUS!”

He rushed out of the room. There was a moment of silence, which was suddenly broken by a heartbreaking shriek. Albus rushed into the room, freezing at the sight of Draco kneeling on the bed, Scorpius’ body cradled in his arms. The elder Malfoy was sobbing and rocking back and forth, petting his son’s hair uselessly.

“My boy,” he wept brokenly, “My poor poor boy.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr. Malfoy,” the second mediwizard said respectfully, as he put his diagnostic tools away.

“What…what was it?” Draco asked.

“A sudden brain clot that caused a seizure. Even if we had known it was going to happen we wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

Draco nodded, hiccupped, and sobbed even harder, burying his face in Scorpius’ hair.

The mediwizard stood, and with a discrete glance at Albus, left the room. Albus spared a look at the father and son, and followed him into the living room.

“Thank you for the quick response,” he said hollowly to the two men.

“You’re welcome,” Gareth nodded, grabbing some floo powder, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

The second mediwizard nodded, following his companion into the fireplace. With a call of, “St. Mungos,” they were gone, and Albus was left feeling bereft and numb. Draco’s wails a distant noise in his head, he walked into the kitchen and proceeded to make two mugs of tea, working solely on autopilot. Leaving one mug on the counter, he took the other and made his way back to the living room, where he sat and stared into space, not noticing how the hot mug was burning the skin of the hands that gripped it tightly.

Minutes, or possibly hours later, Albus couldn’t tell, a distraught and broken-looking Draco walked into the sitting room carrying Scorpius in his arms.

“I have to bring Scorpius home,” he announced, staring straight at the fireplace, “there are traditions…and his mother, and grandmother…you can come see him in the afternoon if you wish.”

Albus nodded, throat working furiously to swallow the lump that had appeared at the sight of his friend’s lifeless body. Draco bowed his head, pressing his forehead to Scorpius’ chest, before he spun on the spot and disapparated. Albus barely noticed; he couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but grief and longing and emptiness inside. A tiny shiver ran down his spine, followed by another, and then another, until eventually he was shuddering uncontrollably on the couch, his now ice-cold tea spilling out of the cup on over his hands. He stood abruptly, and made his way into his room to get an extra robe. By the time he entered his room, he’d forgotten what he had gone in for, and stood in the centre of the floor, head slumped, arms hung limply at his sides, cup dangling from his fingertips, liquid spilling slowly to the floor. Albus remained completely motionless for the next few minutes, before a bright flare of anger overcame him and he screamed and hurled the cup against the wall opposite him. As tea and shards of ceramic exploded outwards and dived to the floor, Albus screamed and kicked the chest of drawers, scattering the objects on top of it to the ground, and collapsed on the floor. Curling inwards, he screamed himself hoarse, and then remained lying down, panting shallowly as exhaustion overcame him.

When he awoke, the clock read 9.00am, and the numbness had settled back over him. Silently he stood and started gathering his things to put them back on the chest of drawers. His hand stilled as he picked up the final item, and he stared down at the small black timeturner. For years, they had been impossible to recreate after the incident with Albus’ dad, but eventually a very talented and dedicated witch had cracked the magic and mechanics, and they had gone back into production. Albus himself, having a natural talent for charms, was involved in developing new prototypes. This here in his hand was one that Albus had snuck home to tinker with and test. The tinkering itself was done, but not the testing, the reason being that Albus had yet to clear enough time – for this timeturner turned back days rather than hours.

I could go back…I could go back and save him, was the sudden thought that entered Albus’ head as he rolled the timeturner between his hands, I could take him to St. Mungo’s and…No. No there’d be no point, he realised, remembering the mediwizard’s words.

His shoulders slumped and he sat down heavily on his bed, timeturner still in his hands. It was insane to think that twenty-four hours ago, he was in his parents’ house trying to calm them down, and Scorpius was enjoying his day off work, and now…now Scorpius would never know how Albus felt about him, had died not knowing how they could be together, how Albus could love him, worship him, do everything possible to make him happy.

It doesn’t have to be that way…

It was mad, totally mad, not to mention illegal, but Albus couldn’t dispel the notion as it grew into an idea, formed into a plan. It wouldn’t have to be this way. He could go back, give Scorpius, himself, them one day together, one perfect day. It would be difficult, and painful, and if anyone found out Albus would be in a serious amount of trouble, but for Scorpius…For Scorpius, going to hell itself and back would be worth it.

Mind made up, Albus summoned his wand, activated the timeturner, turned it over once, and lurched as the world spun around him.

When everything had settled down, the world around him was the same, and Albus despaired that the timeturner had failed to work, until he suddenly noticed that the smashed teacup was not to be seen. And then he heard music coming from the kitchen. His insides lurched and he jumped up, sprinting down the hall and hurtling into the kitchen.

There, right in front of him was Scorpius, looking so painfully real that Albus locked up, unable to do anything but stare. Scorpius himself jumped as the door swung open and swung around, wielding a spatula with all its potential deadliness.

“Albus!” he gasped, eyes wide, “You scared the shit out of me, what are you doing bursting into rooms unannounced like that?”

Albus blinked rapidly four or five times, swallowed and replied softly, “Sorry…”

Scorpius frowned and lowered the spatula, eyes raking over Albus’ appearance.

“Albus, what’s wrong?” he asked in a worried tone, “I thought you had gone to your parents, did something happen?”

Albus shook his head and then managed to croak out, “I came back.”

He took an uncertain step towards Scorpius, who put down the spatula and walked up to him, placed a hand on his forehead, looking into his eyes.

“Are you feeling well?” Scorpius asked, “What did you come back for?”

Albus closed his eyes at the feel of Scorpius’ hand on his face. He wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, but most of all, he wanted Scorpius, wanted all of him. He opened his eyes to gaze intensely into his friend’s, and his hands came up to cradle Scorpius’ face. Scorpius froze, staring back at him, his expression changing from worried, to confused and unsure, and then just as they widened with realisation, Albus did the one thing he’d always denied himself, and leaned in and kissed him hungrily.

Scorpius responded slowly and cautiously, and Albus pulled back to gasp out, “You, Scorpius, I came back for you,” before leaning back in to kiss him again.

This time, Scorpius returned the kiss just as fiercely, and they melted together, hands running frantically over each other’s bodies, wanting to touch and feel everywhere. Albus felt dizzy, and desire washed over him in heady waves. His hands slowed, caressed Scorpius’ cheeks, and ran through his hair, down his neck and sides, up his back and down his chest, committing it all to memory, while his mind chanted a litany of wantneedloveScorpScorpScorp over and over again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a part of him wept for the fact that this was his one and only chance to do this, but he ignored it in favour of pouring his every emotion into his kiss and touch.

Scorpius whimpered softly, his hands tangling in Albus’ hair, his tongue curling itself around Albus’, and then moaned deep in his throat as Albus pulled their hips together.

“Albus,” he gasped, pulling back, though he still pressed firmly against said man, “What’s…why?”

Albus bit his lip and then slowly replied, knowing he had to be honest, had to get this right, “Scorp, I know I’ve always said that I never wanted to date or be in a relationship because I don’t want to end up like my parents, and that’s true, but…For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been the one person I’ve wanted more than friendship from, and I’ve tried to deny it, but there’s just no point…I love you Scorpius,” he said, in a clear, proud voice, “I’m going to love you till the day I die.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened as he spoke, and his mouth flapped soundlessly for a moment, before he whispered, “Albus…Albus…”

A shy smile crept over his face that grew and blossomed into a full-blown smile of pure happiness. He quickly leaned in and pecked Albus on the lips, and then did it again and again and again.

“I love you,” he said joyfully between kisses, “Albus I’ve loved you for so long.”

Albus laughed, and then suddenly was crying, his body shaking as he kissed Scorpius’ face over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Scorpius asked, and then smirked and added, “Does my proclamation of love upset you that much?”

Albus snorted with laughter, and quickly wiped his eyes, replying, “Stuff it you git, they’re happy tears.”

“Happy tears? You are such a woman,” Scorpius scoffed, though Albus could see his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Oh really?” he countered, smirking, “Well I highly doubt a woman could do this.”

He reached down, grabbing Scorpius’ arse and hoisting him up. Scorpius gasped and wrapped his legs around Albus’ waist, and then kissed him deeply as Albus began to walk out of the kitchen.

“Oh the stove!” he gasped, just as they were at the doorway.

“Now who’s a woman?” Albus asked teasingly as he walked back and turned the stove off.

“Shut up,” Scorpius said, before grabbing his face and kissing him, “Bed.”

“Yes m’ame,” Albus grinned, laughing as Scorpius punched him on the arm and then kissed him again.

Once in the bedroom, they fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and quickly divested each other of their clothing. Albus pulled back to look over Scorpius reverently. Time slowed down as he gazed at the man he loved, and he sucked in a sharp breath at the perfection to be found in a mole just under his ribs, a litter of scars on his shoulder from a quidditch accident, a couple of wonky broken toes.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, placing his hand over Scorpius’ heart, “every bloody inch of you.”

Scorpius blushed, but snorted and sat up, grabbing Albus by the shoulders as he said, “Then come here and show me how beautiful you think I am.”

Albus followed him back down, laying on top of him, and poured his heart into their lovemaking. They spent what seemed like forever, kissing and touching each other everywhere, rolling around the bed, fingers teasing, lips and teeth and tongue following, biting and licking and sucking and finally Albus buried himself to the hilt in Scorpius. He wiped sweat-matted hair from Scorpius’ forehead and leaned his own against it, staring into his lover’s eyes. Slowly, he started to move, thrusting inside of Scorpius a little faster and deeper each time. Scorpius clutched at Albus’ back, and groaned and arched his hips up to meet his every undulation. Their bodies took up a primal, punishing rhythm together, and all the while, they stared into each other’s eyes. It was the single most intense experience of Albus’ life, and he wanted it to never end. However, all-too-soon, their rhythm turned ragged and erratic. They clutched at each other desperately, Albus groaning continuously, and Scorpius’ breaths coming in furious, sobbing pants and gasps. Scorpius reached down and started stroking himself frantically, and suddenly, he was clenched around Albus tight and juddering as he cried out. Albus’ thrusts became completely undone at this; they paused, resumed moving quickly, paused again, thrust oncetwicethrice, and then he tensed up, back arched as he spilled himself inside his love.

The two men panted harshly as they slowly came down from their high, and basked in the afterglow of their session. Scorpius stroked Albus’ hair and back, while Albus lay slow, loving kisses along his collarbone, up his neck and over his face, finishing with Scorpius’ lips. They kissed deeply, languidly, lovingly. Albus started to pull back, when Scorpius grabbed him and wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him back in.

“No,” Scorpius gasped, his cock twitching faintly, “stay.”

Albus whimpered as Scorpius shifted, holding him deep and secure, and then asked, “Are you sure?”

Scorpius nodded eagerly and replied, “It feels good.”

“Okay then,” Albus smiled, and wow this was hot, and if he wasn’t totally exhausted he would be hard again in a heartbeat.

He settled himself fully on top of Scorpius, who moaned happily, and kissed his shoulder. They dozed off, and woke up an hour later, Albus hard inside of Scorpius, and Scorpius getting there. Albus pushed himself up and sat back on his knees, Scorpius following, straddling his lap, controlling the pace. He barely moved; tiny little bounces, while they concentrated on memorizing every inch of each other’s bodies that they could reach. Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, but their orgasms blindingly intense, and afterwards Albus lay on his back, Scorpius curled on his chest, peppering kisses across it, while still moving restlessly, milking every tiny bit of Albus’ orgasm out of him, dragging a second one out before he pulled completely off Albus, lying down beside him. Albus wrapped himself around the blond, feeling completely buzzed and the epitome of ‘punch-drunk-love.’ As the high slowly faded away, he remembered his vow to make this the perfect day for Scorpius, and he racked his brains, trying to think about the things Scorpius really loved to do.

“Hey,” he said excitedly, as an idea came to him, “what do you say to going to that Adventure Park with the rock climbing and go-carts, and then going to that muggle antique car auction and car-boot sale down the road?”

“Really?” Scorpius smiled, “That’d be brilliant, I’ve been meaning to go to them for ages!”

“I know,” Albus smiled, kissing him softly, “which is why I want to take you.”

Scorpius beamed and kissed him back, then pulled away and said, “Okay, you go have a shower, while I get my stuff ready and then I’ll go, because Merlin knows if we go in together we’ll never get out.”

“True,” Albus laughed.

He kissed Scorpius once more and headed off to the bathroom, grabbing a towel along the way. He showered quickly, then dried off and headed back into the room, where he found Scorpius standing by his bookcase, reading over a familiar-looking piece of parchment, and Albus’ stomach clenched as he recognized the note he’d found on the coffee table.

“What’s that?” he asked casually, as he walked into the room.

“Huh? Oh, it’s a…it’s a note, for you,” Scorpius replied carefully, and then clarified, “It’s a love note actually. I wrote it weeks ago, I’d finally plucked up the courage to give it to you tomorrow when you got back from your parents’.”

Albus’ heart lurched and he managed a wobbly smile as he replied, “Sorry for stealing your confession thunder.”

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind,” Scorpius replied, putting the note back on the bookshelf, “In fact, I’m quite happy you did.”

“Me too,” Albus smiled, then smirked and smacked Scorpius on the arse as he added, “Now go have your shower, I’ll cook breakfast.”

Scorpius yelped and glared as he retorted, “It had better be a damn good one to make up for that abuse.”

“Abuse?” Albus smirked, “Or foreplay?”

Scorpius rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, half-heartedly waving the finger in Albus’ direction.

Albus grinned and headed into his own room, got dressed and went to make breakfast. Just as he was laying it out on the table, Scorpius walked in, dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and Albus felt his breath catch as he looked up. His features relaxed and he knew he had a mushy look on his face as he said softly, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Scorpius replied, smiling shyly as he walked up and wrapped his arms around Albus’ waist.

They shared a kiss, and then took their seats at the table, tucking into their breakfast hungrily, feet lazily brushing against each other, and they shared lingering looks and smiles. When they were finished, Albus set the dishes in the sink to be cleaned, while Scorpius went to get their coats.

“Bugger,” he heard, as he walked out of the kitchen, and he called out, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s lashing rain,” Scorpius called back, in an ‘I-should-have-expected-this,’ tone of voice, “The park and car-boot sale will be closed.”

“Bugger,” Albus cursed, heading into the living room, where Scorpius was standing at the window, “Bloody English weather.”

“Ah well, some other time,” Scorpius shrugged, and Albus felt his heart clench painfully, but shook his head and tried to quickly think of somewhere else to go.

“Okay, um, how about that museum exhibition you were talking about?”

“It’s not starting until next week.”

“Are there any shows or films you want to go to?” Albus asked, desperation lacing his voice.

“Not today no,” Scorpius replied, shaking his head, sounding a bit put out.

A strange sense of loss settled over Albus, and a part of him wanted to wallow and mourn the loss of the day, of the chance to do something, of Scorpius. His last day with Scorpius, his last….oh god his last day. Before…before…He couldn’t face it, not now, or he’d completely lose it and tell Scorpius everything, and he couldn’t do that to him, couldn’t force the unbelievable burden on his shoulders. And, if he was being totally honest, he was being selfish as well, because he wanted a Scorpius who was focused on them and their love and how wonderful a day they were having.

Albus bit his lip, while his eyes stung a little and a lump formed in his throat. Now was not the time. He had to be strong.

“Oh well, we can have a lazy day today,” Scorpius smiled, taking Albus’ hand in his.

“No, we can’t…we should do something!” Albus cried out.

Frustration and stress were quickly building up in his chest, and he fought the urge to start hyperventilating. Why couldn’t today go right? Why was everything falling apart, why couldn’t he give Scorpius the day he deserved? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t bloody fair!

“Albus, what’s wrong?” Scorpius frowned, “I know you don’t like it when plans don’t work out, but you seem overly stressed about this.”

“I wanted to take you out,” Albus said stubbornly, face scrunching up, “I wanted this to be the perfect day for you.”

“Albus,” Scorpius said softly, squeezing Albus’ hand, “I have you, so today is a perfect day. Don’t worry about the park or museum or anything, we have the rest of our lives to enjoy them.”

Albus shuddered violently, and he clutched at his head and tried to take calming breaths. Scorpius rolled his eyes, sighed and pulled Albus’ hands away from his head, which he then cradled with his own.

“Okay, I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much, but how about I tell you what I want to do today?”

Fearful of what would happen if he tried to speak, Albus nodded dumbly, looking at him with large, pleading eyes.

“What I want,” Scorpius said firmly, gazing directly into his eyes, “is to spend the day with you in bed naked. Then I want to get greasy Chinese takeaway with a couple of bottles of Tiger Beer, and watch Some Like It Hot, and after that I want to go back to bed with you.”

As Scorpius spoke, Albus found himself relaxing and smiling. He nodded once more and then said, “I think I can do that for you.”

“Prove it,” Scorpius grinned, laughing when Albus swung him into an exaggerated embrace, kissed him on the nose, and then picked him up and swept him off to the bedroom.

They spent the day making love to one another, trying out everything and anything they could think of to take each other to new heights of pleasure. Eventually they were utterly exhausted, and collapsed on the bed together. Albus wrapped himself around Scorpius, kissing and touching him everywhere, murmuring words of love and worship like a mantra, a protective spell.

“I love you,” Scorpius breathed in reply, “I love you Albus.”

Albus kissed him, hands still moving relentlessly over his body, unable to keep from feeling every piece of skin. Scorpius turned so they were lying back to chest, and laced their fingers together. Albus nuzzled his neck and kissed him tenderly behind his ear, and snuggled close as they relaxed against each other.

As night drew in, Albus ordered the take away and beer, while Scorpius sorted out the DVD. They huddled together under a duvet on the couch, watching the film and eating and drinking. When they were done, they retired back to the bedroom, where they made love one last time; Albus moving painfully slow on top of Scorpius, engulfing him over and over again. Once they were sated, they lay together in the darkness, kissing and talking; Scorpius making plans for future days out, while Albus ‘hmm’d’ and tried to block it out and concentrate of on how it felt to be so brilliantly connected to his love and best friend.

With a murmured, “Goodnight, love you, Al…” Scorpius slowly drifted off, but Albus remained awake, watching him sleep peacefully.

The happiness and tranquillity of the moment was shadowed though by the knowledge of what was to come. Albus blinked rapidly and wished and prayed to every deity he knew of for Scorpius to be saved…

Less than an hour later, Scorpius jerked and spasm in his arms, gave one last hitching breath, and then was still. Albus skimmed his hand along his neck, feeling for a pulse, and upon finding none, gave a grievous moan and buried his face in the blond hair, clutching the body to his. Despite the fact that he knew this was going to happen, to watch it and feel it was beyond words, beyond feeling, beyond anything. He felt like he had been torn in half, was completely lost and useless.

“Scorpius,” he crooned in broken sobs, “My beautiful, perfect Scorpius…Love you so much baby.”

He remained as such, until the body turned stiff and cold, and then realised that he himself would be back soon. With one final kiss to Scorpius’ temple, he dragged himself out of bed, got dressed in his original clothes he had travelled back in, and then tended to Scorpius, casting a cleaning charm on him and the bed, though leaving it messy, and dressing his lover in his pyjamas. He then set up the apartment as he remembered it being – banishing the takeaway leftovers, opening the curtains and putting the note from Scorpius to him on the coffee table. That done, he gave an exhausted, weary sigh, and noticing it was ten to six, apparated up onto the roof of the building. There, he crumpled in a heap on the ground, frowning when he heard a strange crinkling sound coming from his pocket. Reaching in, his eyes widened when he pulled out the note from Scorpius.

But, where…Oh, I put it in my pocket that morning…

He read over it once more, his face contorting in pain as he did, before it crumpled. The dam broke, and he finally let out all the heartache and sorrow that had been building up inside flow out, as he cried and keened and curled himself into a ball around the note, howling his grief to the morning Gods.

Dear Albus,

This is Scorpius, though as you know my handwriting, no doubt you already suspected as much, hehe…Anyway, the reason I’m writing you this note is because there’s something I need to tell you, and I’m too cowardly to say it to your face (some Gryffindor I am!)

I know that I’ve always said that I don’t want to become involved with anyone because of the troubles my parents have, but I realise that the mistakes of the past should be learned from, not used as an excuse to not get hurt. Over the years we’ve known each other, you’ve become my best friend, but truthfully now, you mean so much more to me than just that. You mean more to me than anything in the world. I love you Albus Potter. I’ve loved you for some time now, and I will love you until the day I die.

It is said that life is short, and I would gladly spend the rest of whatever time I have left loving and caring for you. I can only pray that you feel the same way about me, and if you do not, then I apologise if I make you feel uncomfortable, but I could not deny how I felt any longer: around you I felt undone – never was it put better than when Heaney said, “self is in mutiny.”

I may not give this to you just yet, but someday, I’ll have the courage to, I promise you that.

All my love,

Scorpius

Fic: Date Night

phys_nut — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 11:26:46 GMT

Title: Date Night

Author: phys_nut

Pairing: arthur/merlin

Warnings: someone's drink gets spiked

Summary: Arthur FINALLY asks Merlin out on a date, but their night doesn't go exactly to plan...

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,948

Author's Notes: heeyyy!! right, so i've a million other things going on, but this was my entry for lolryne competition, where I wrote a fic inspired by a picture she drew, which can be found here . It was a bit of a rush job and is unbeta'd, but i'd great fun writing it and thought i would share! please read and enjoy!!

“Mmmph, snarggle…but why do I have to taste the troll potion?” Merlin moaned sleepily into Arthur’s shoulder.
Arthur paused, raised an eyebrow, and then sighed and kept walking down the hallway. What a way for this day to end…

Arthur had been told about a fancy-dress party at the last minute (as usual) by Morgana, who had further demanded that he bring Merlin, despite the fact that Merlin was her friend.

“Why should I ask him?” Arthur asked, non-plussed, “He’s YOUR friend!”

“Yes, but I don’t want to shag his brains out, unlike you,” Morgana retorted.

Arthur made a chocked noise of disagreement and Morgana cut him off immediately, with a breezy, “Don’t even bother protesting, everyone knows you want in his pants, so please get off your lazy arse and ask him out.”

With that, Morgana hung up, leaving a shocked Arthur to gather his thoughts, soothe his nerves, build up his courage and ring Merlin (who’s number he most definitely did NOT know off by heart).

“Hallo Merlin,” Arthur said in a bright, confident tone, when said man answered the phone, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Merlin replied nonchalantly, “How are you?”

“Oh, good,” Arthur said, lips twisting as he tried to get to the point of this phone call.

There was a beat of silence, within which Arthur pouted at his lack of initiative and looked about the room, desperate for inspiration, before he suddenly blurted out, “Lovely weather we’re having eh?”

“Arthur,” Merlin said slowly, “did you call me to talk about the weather?”

“Umm, no,” Arthur admitted sheepishly, feeling his cheeks burning, “Morgana just called me and told me about a fancy dress party her and Gwen are hosting tomorrow.”

“Oh…no offence, but why are you calling me about it and not her?”

“Because, well…I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?”

“Oh?”

“As my date?”

“Ooohhhh.”

There was another moment of silence, during which Arthur near gnawed his lip off, and then Merlin, smile evident in his tone of voice, said, “I’d like that.”

“Really?” Arthur asked, disbelief colouring his voice.

“Yeah. It could be fun. We could go as our namesakes,” Merlin chuckled.

“What, Arthur and Merlin?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, you could dress up in chainmail or something and I’ll get a wizard’s costume.”

“Hmm, yes I reckon we could pull it off,” Arthur nodded, “People have said that I have a rather princely face.”

“Yeah, they also say you’re a royal pain sometimes.”

“Har har,” Arthur deadpanned, “Just wait till I get my sword and we’ll see who’s slagging who when I have it pointed at you.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind you pointing your sword at me,” Merlin joked in a flirtatious tone.

All the blood immediately rushed out of Arthur’s head, which then filled with thoughts of naughty, dirty, explicit things involving Merlin and his “sword”.

“Um, yes,” he said weakly.

He cleared his throat and then said, “Well, I’m going to go to the costume shop in an hour, would you like to join me?”

“Sure,” Merlin replied, “I’ll see you then.”

As it turned out, there was one last chainmail suit in Arthur’s size, but being that Morgana’s and Gwen’s parties tended to be large lavish events, and this costume shop was the only one in town, the only other costume left in Merlin’s size was a serving boy’s costume.

“You could go as my manservant,” Arthur teased.

Merlin paused, expression thoughtful before he replied, “Okay sure, but only if I get to be your secretly magical servant, who uses his powers to get up to all sorts of hi-jinks and save your arse when you get into trouble.”

“…Deal,” Arthur smiled.

***

They met up the next evening and headed for Morgana’s and Gwen’s house, which they found full of people dressed up in all sorts of costumes – there were fairies, witches, horses, robots, a rubix cube and even a spongebob squarepants. Merlin pouted when he spotted a few people dressed as wizards, and Arthur tried to cheer him up by telling him that in a kingdom where magic was banned their heads would be chopped right off, seeing as they obviously weren’t clever enough to know the meaning of the word subtle. Merlin beamed, and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, just as Arthur turned to say something, causing their lips to meet. Arthur and Merlin both leaned fully into the kiss, hands reaching for each other, and just as things were getting interesting, the moment was ruined by two voices simultaneously saying, “Having a good time?”

Arthur and Merlin jumped apart to see Morgana and Gwen, dressed up as a cat and an angel respectively, standing on either side of them, identical smirks on their faces.

“Oh hello Morgana, hi Gwen,” Merlin smiled, a furious blush staining his cheeks.

“Nice party,” Arthur added; face equally red, “I love the, um, decorations.”

“Surprised you had time to notice them,” Morgana replied in a wicked tone, “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that Will’s around and he’s looking for you.”

Arthur fought the urge to grimace, remembered that Will would be never be so tactful, and thus grimaced the hell away. Will was his friend Lance’s roommate and was a childhood friend of Merlin’s. He was obnoxious and opinionated, and had decided from the get-go that he didn’t like Arthur. Merlin had tried to explain that people were like marmite to Will – he either loved them or hated them – but Arthur was having none of it, and had decided to dislike Will back just as much.

“Thanks for the warning,” Merlin nodded, with a glance at Arthur.

“What’s he dressed as, so I can look out for him and then avoid him?” Arthur asked.

“Just think risky business,” Gwen smiled mysteriously, before Morgana pulled her away, saying something about dancing.

“Right, um…beer, I think I’m going to get some beer. Would you like some?” Arthur asked, feeling suddenly nervous and unsure.

“Sure,” Merlin answered in a shy tone.

Arthur flashed him a quick smile and headed off in search of drinks. In the kitchen, he was waylaid by an old man dressed as a dragon, who refused to let anyone near the drinks, unless they could answer a riddle. Arthur countered with a riddle of his own, and when the man was sufficiently distracted, he managed to nick two beers and get back to Merlin. Unfortunately, Will was talking to him, dressed in sunglasses, a white shirt and underwear.

As Arthur approached the pair, Will turned and pulled his sunglasses down just enough to peer disdainfully at him over them. Arthur resisted the urge to stick his tongue out and handed a bottle to Merlin, who took it with a large smile and a murmured “thanks.”

Will stood there, looking at him expectantly, to which, Arthur gave a questioning look.

Will sighed and said, “Shouldn’t you be getting back to whoever you came with?”

“Actually, I came here with Merlin,” Arthur smirked back at him.

“Huh? Why?”

“We’re uh, we’re on a date,” Merlin replied lightly.

Will froze, and then slowly slid his sunglasses off.

“You’re on a date?”

“Yup,” Arthur replied, not able to fully conceal his gloating tone.

“Why the hell would you want to date him Merlin??”

“Will, there you are!” a voice called out, and Lance strode over, dressed in ragged, paint-spattered clothes. “Prepare to pay up mate, Catriona just arrived and she’s dressed up like a proper troll, with the fake dung and all, it’s well mingin!”

“What? No way!” Will cried out. “This, I have to see for myself. I’ll talk to you about this later,” he added in a low tone to Merlin, before turning and walking off, Lance beside him.

“Wouldn’t want to be you when he gets back,” Arthur whistled.

“Will’s fine, he’s just protective,” Merlin shrugged.

They stood in an awkward silence, drinking their beers, making eye contact every now and then, and breaking it just as quickly.

“Would you like to dance?” Arthur asked after a while.

“Yes,” Merlin smiled.

Arthur took his hand and suddenly things were a lot less tense than they had been, and the evening flowed a lot easier. Arthur and Merlin danced together, snuck in a few more kisses, and chatted to different people they knew from around town. At one point, they were separated, but Arthur chalked it down to Will dragging Merlin off for a lecture, and continued chatting away to Sophie and Valient, who were dressed as a fairie and a snake charmer.

“Hey, watch it!” someone yelled, and Arthur glanced around to spot Merlin stumbling through the crowd.

The black haired man suddenly spotted him, and the smile that graced his face threatened to split it in half.

“Arthur!” he yelled excitedly, wobbling towards the other man, and throwing himself on top of him.

“Oof! Merlin, are you all right?” Arthur asked in concern pushing Merlin back enough to get a look at him.

Merlin grinned up at him, his body slack in his arms, and Arthur frowned when he saw Merlin’s pupils were fully dilated.

“Merlin…what did you last have to drink?”

Merlin’s head lolled back, and he slurred out, “Dunno…Will made s’mthin up."

“Right,” Arthur said in a tight voice.

***

“I may or may not have put something in his drink,” Will said diplomatically.

“I can’t believe you, why would you do that to your friend?” Arthur asked incredulously.

“I have my reasons.”

“What is wrong with you?” Arthur yelled, “There could be sickos here who would take advantage of Merlin in this sate!”

“And are you one of them?”

Arthur stared unblinking at the other man for a few moments, before he said in a low, dangerous tone, “Do you mean to say that you drugged your friend to test my chivalry?!”

“I want to make sure Merlin will be safe with you,” Will replied defensively.

“I hope,” Arthur said, “that you realise how incredibly disturbed you are.”

That said, he turned and knelt by Merlin, who had passed out on a nearby couch.

“Merlin,” he called softly, “Meeerrrrlin.”

“Blasted dragon,” Merlin muttered sleepily, “No more riddles.”

Arthur sighed and tried to wake him a few more times, but to no avail. There was only one thing left to do. Propping Merlin up, he sat on the edge of the couch and managed to manoeuvre the man onto his back. Merlin sighed happily and nuzzled his face into Arthur’s neck.

“Tell Morgana and Gwen that I’m putting Merlin into the guest bedroom,” he told Will, who nodded, expression angry, though albeit not with the same level of contempt as before.

And so Arthur found himself climbing the stairs and navigating the hallways, while Merlin clung to him and mumbled nonsense. Eventually, he made it to the guest bedroom, and he laid Merlin gently out on the bed, pulling the sheets over him. As Arthur stood up, Merlin's eyes suddenly popped open and he bolted upright.

“Arthur!” he gasped, grabbing Arthur's arm, just as he was setting off to go, “Please don’t go, I won’t be able to protect you if you’re not here.”

“You don’t need to protect me,” Arthur smiled fondly.

“No but I want to,” Merlin replied tugging on his arms, “Please…lie down beside me?”

Arthur sighed and lay down beside Merlin, who snuffled happily close to him, and promptly fell asleep. Arthur planned to wait until he was fast asleep and then he would head home, but he found he was falling asleep where he lay. The two men unconsciously wrapped themselves around each other, and though the date hadn’t gone very well, it was the best sleep either had had in a long time.

THE END!! XD

well that's that! i hope you all enjoyed my little bit of crack, please let me know what you think!

DIA DHUIT!!! :D

phys_nut — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 17:27:36 GMT

WOW OMG IT'S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I'VE BEEN ON LIVEJOURNAL!! seriously, it's definitely been at least a month since i've been on it properly, i don't even want to think about all the catching up i have to do... -_-;;

so between RL and fest writing things have been crazy hectic with me, so quick update as to what's been going on...

- i had a telephone interview for a graduate programme i REALLY want to get in to, two weeks ago, and still haven't heard from them...so i'm a little worried about that..

- FINALLY got my stuff for the summer camps filled out, so waiting to hear if i got it or not!

- when i finish up with my current part time job i have another to continue on to, so yay for more mula!! :D

- I GOT MY HARRY POTTER NEXT GENERATION FEST FIC FINISHED!!!!! seriously, i was practically crying over this, it was a bit of a nightmare trying to get it done, but i finally did (albeit a few days late) and beta'd and posted off and now posting has started, so YOU SHOULD ALL GO CHECK IT OUT!!

- I GOT MY TATTOO DONE!! i went in last monday to just ask about getting it done, and showed them the pic and they said they could do it straight away, so i said "Okay, why not??"" and for anyone interested, here's a pic of it under the cut!

i'm ridiculously in love with it, and have to restrain myself from looking at it all the time cause it's just so damn pretty! though the healing process is taking it's time and it's still a little sore and HELLA itchy, but i'm managing to just keep it moisturised and not touch it unless necessary!

hrm....i can't really think of any other news....i'm in the process of writing two merlin fics, one for tobreakthespell, and the other as a birthday fic for my friend frellen_rocks, so hopefully i'll get them done soon! oooo, and i think i'm getting an xbox360!! i have the sega and the Wii, but i love the games that come with the xbox, especially left for dead, which i'm not good at, but which i enjoy playing nevertheless!!

anyhoo, that about does me, so slán!!! :D

Fic: A Rose By Any Other Name

phys_nut — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 01:03:15 GMT

Recipient: deathjunke
Title: A Rose By Any Other Name
Author/Artist: phys_nut
Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius, James/Teddy, Harry/Teddy, Albus/James, Albus/Severus Snape
Rating: NC17
Warnings: polyjuice sex, angst, male/male sex, cross-dressing(nothing heavy, just mentioned in passing), spanking, homophobia, age disparity (harry/teddy – 44/26, albus/snape – 37(??)/20), incest.
Summary: It all began when James came out of the closet: Albus and Scorpius go down a path much darker than they initially planned.
Word Count: 9,594
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s/Artist's notes: first of all, I’d like to give a HUGE MASSIVE THANK YOU to my two betas, frellen_rocks and lost_stray_cat !! frellen_rocks was an absolute star who put up with my ranting about how this story was killing me and I’d never get it done, and who stayed up till 4am with me while I finished writing it and then read over it as I started typing. And lost_stray_cat , even though I threw this at her last minute, pulled through and did her usual FABULOUS betaing for me! YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTE STARS!! :D
SO. okay, I have to admit, when I first got your prompts deathjunke, I was REALLY stuck, because I’ve never written half the characters you asked for, nor do I really like cross-gen…at first I was just going to write an absolute weird crack fic…and then a more serious idea spawned from that and got lodged in my brain and allowed me to include pretty much every prompt you gave! So I REALLY hope you enjoy the story, and I’m very sorry if it’s not what you were looking for!

It all began when James came out in the summer just before his seventh year.
Albus could remember the tight line of Harry’s mouth, the anger in his eyes, and the disgust in his voice as he said, “Get out, and never come back.”
“But dad-” James had started to protest, but Harry’s wand had whipped up in his face, its tip sparking dangerously.
“Don’t speak to me,” Harry had said viciously, “You no longer have a father as far as I’m concerned.”
James’ eyes had watered up, before they suddenly hardened and he turned away. Wordlessly, he summoned his trunk, and with a sad look at Albus, he had turned sharply and apparated away.
Harry had stood frozen, eyes locked on the spot where James had been, before he abruptly walked out of the room, leaving Albus alone, gaping at the scene that had just unfolded before him. He and James had discussed coming out to their father, and neither had ever thought he would take it that badly. Albus at that point had felt torn; part of him that felt loyalty to his brother wanted to come tearing out of the closet and follow his brother wherever he had gone, but the more dominant part of him had been terrified at the thought of living without his father’s love.
The rest of the holiday had been spent in awkward silences – Ginny alternating between screaming furiously at Harry and treating him to teary, stony silences, while Albus kept to himself in his room, owling Scorpius with all his news, and trying desperately to find James, but to no avail. It wasn’t until Albus was heading back to Hogwarts that he saw James again.
He had just boarded the train after saying goodbye to Ginny who had hugged him fiercely and then pressed a package into his hand.
“Give this to your brother,” she had sniffed, “and tell him he can owl me or floo call whenever he wants, and that I love him very much, no matter who he loves.”
“I will mum,” Albus had nodded.
“And Albus,” she had whispered, “I’ll always love you no matter who you love as well.”
Albus’ eyes had widened and he had stared in utter panic at her, before he managed to relax and gave her a small smile in reply. He had hugged her tightly and whispered, “Thanks mum, I love you.”
“Love you too,” she had smiled, and then gave him a little push towards the train, adding, “Now go on, don’t want to miss the train.”
Albus had smiled and had gotten on the Express, when he was suddenly side-tackled by a large mass of messy black hair and Gryffindor robes. Albus yelled and tried to roll over, but his attacker had him pinned firmly in place.
“You’re as squirmy as a snake,” the person on top of him chuckled.
“And you’re as bullying as a lion,” Albus spat back, struggling to reach for his wand.
He immediately froze then, as it registered just who was the owner of that voice.
“James?” he asked tentatively.
The other boy chuckled and replied warmly, “Hello little brother.”
“James!” Albus cried out happily, turning around as his brother sat back.
Quick as a flash, he had jumped up and grabbed James in a fierce hug, clutching at his back as he babbled.
“Oh my god James, I never thought I’d see you again! What happened after you left? What did you do? Where did you stay?”
“Whoa whoa, one question at a time,” James laughed, hugging Albus back just as tightly, “First of all, it’s good to see you too, I missed you loads. I ended up apparating to London and staying in the Leaky Cauldron for a couple of days, and managed to empty my account at Gringotts before da-…Harry got to it. I was trying to decide what to do about coming back to Hogwarts, when I bumped into Teddy. I told him what happened and he told me I was staying with him and he wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Oh that’s good, I’m glad he found you,” Albus sighed in relief.
Teddy and James had been very close growing up, despite the seven-year difference, and they considered each other their best friend. Teddy had known about James being gay for years, and had confessed his own bisexuality in return. If there were anyone Albus could have chosen to help James through this bar himself, it would be Teddy.
“How come though, when I sent Mercury out to find you he couldn’t?” Albus asked, as they stood and brushed themselves off.
“Teddy set up wards to that no one could get to me bar him,” James replied quietly, “You know, in case Harry decided to come looking.”
Albus swallowed thickly and nodded.
“James, I - … I’m sorry I didn’t tell dad as well,” he said apologetically, throat tight, “I should have stuck by you and said something, I shouldn’t have abandon-”
“Albus, Albus don’t,” James interrupted, shaking his head, “Thank Merlin you didn’t say anything. I’m in my last year, but you have two years to go, and aren’t of age yet. I’d hate to think of you being away from the family for the holidays.”
“Like you’ll be?” Albus stated softly.
“I’ve got Teddy,” James said reassuringly.
“I’m sure at least some of the rest of the family will be accepting,” Albus said encouragingly, “Uncle Charlie has to be gay with those piercings and leather trousers, and Aunt Hermione fights for every right and cause there is! And there’s always mum as well,” Albus continued, picking the package Ginny had given him off the ground. “She told me to give you this, and said she loved you no matter what…said the same went for me too…”
James slowly reached out and took the package, staring at it, before he slowly smiled and said, “I’m glad she’s on our side.”
“Me too,” Albus smiled in reply, “You should’ve heard her screaming at dad, I’m surprised hexes didn’t start flying across the dinner table.”
“Trust mum to try having a normal family dinner and forgetting about it half-way through,” James chuckled.
Albus nodded, and the brothers settled into a slightly awkward silence.
“Sooo, what’s it like living with Teddy?”
“It’s good,” James replied nonchalantly, his cheeks pinking slightly.
“Is Victoire around all the time?” Albus grinned teasingly, “do they make out a lot, is it gross?”
“No, uh, they broke up a while ago,” James replied, blushing more.
Albus paused, examining James, whose eyes were darting about evasively, and whose blush was deepening by the second.
“James…are you and Teddy-”
“ALBUS! JAMES!”
A red-haired blur flew down the carriageway, and James and Albus suddenly found themselves with an armful of Lily each.
“Oh my god guys it’s so good to see you! It was soooo horrible being stuck in the Burrow all summer, Grandma Molly kept trying to teach me domestic charms, Roxanne and Molly run off together all the time and hide, they’re right weird the pair of them, Freddy and Lucy had a terribly childish prank war that even Grandpa Arthur got involved in, and Hugo did nothing but smoke gillyweed and star gaze while listening to Christina Warlock!”
Albus laughed and tickled her knee before setting her feet down on the ground, while James let go of her arms.
“Only two more years of that and then you’ll be able to get a job or go off to camp,” James told her reassuringly, patting her on the shoulder.
“I was only supposed to be there for three weeks and then you guys were supposed to come get me, what the hell happened?” Lilly demanded, hands on her hips.
James and Albus shared an uneasy look, before looking back at their sister with identical serious expressions.
Lily paled and sagged slightly as she pressed, “What, what is it?”
“Lily-” Albus began gently.
“THE POTTER FAMILY, MAGNIFIQUE!!” came a shriek from down the carriage, and the three siblings looked up to see Louis skipping down towards them.
“Quelle surprise to see you here!” he gushed, grabbing each of them and kissing both their cheeks.
“Oh I’m sure it is,” Albus replied wryly, grinning.
Out of all his cousins, Louis was Albus’ favourite. He was a genius, and outrageously camp. As a child, he had been constantly dragging Albus off to have tea parties, and once puberty set in, he started flirting with EVERYONE around him, and managed to convince plenty of boys to kiss him, telling them it would be good practise, “so when you kiss a girl you will know what you are doing and it will not be so bad non?” Nothing was too risqué; even right now, he was wearing black culottes, a tiny pink t-shirt, eyeliner and his hair was up in pigtails. It was only his air of confidence that kept him from seeming as ridiculous as he looked.
“Ooo Albuuus, I love it when you are so very witty,” Louis replied with a sly wink, leaning on Albus’ shoulder, “Did you miss me-EEEE!” he shrieked, as Lily grabbed him and dragged him away from her brothers, “Lily! My, my, such strength is not proper for a young lady to show!”
“Shut it Louis!” Lily snarled, eyes never leaving her brother’s. “James, Albus, what happened?”
Albus licked his lips, while James glanced around.
“We should go find a compartment to sit and talk,” James decided.
“Rose is in the usual,” Lily barked, already turning away and marching down the train.
“What’s wrong?” Louis asked in confusion, as James and Albus levitated their trunks and set off after their sister.
“Come on and we’ll tell you,” Albus replied in a grim tone.
They spotted Rose, or rather, a mass of bushy red hair, in the very last compartment, with her nose buried in a quidditch magazine.
“Wotcher Rosey,” Albus greeted teasingly.
Rose simply gave him the finger, eyes never leaving the page in front of her.
“How was quidditch camp?” James asked, as he stored his trunk away.
“Amazing,” Rose replied, instantly becoming animated, “We discussed new training techniques and defence formations and met the Holyhead Harpies and the Appleby Arrows, and-”
“That’s fascinating and all Rose, but please shut up,” Lily snapped.
Ignoring her cousin’s indignant squawk, she shoved James and Albus down onto the seats, crossed her arms and ordered, “Tell me what happened.”
***
“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!!!” Louis bellowed, storming about in a huff.
Rose and Lily nodded along emphatically, while James and Albus leaned against each other after having retold their story for the third time, and the rest of the Weasley clan gaped at them and Louis in shock. In keeping with tradition (which Teddy had started when Victoire had joined him in Hogwarts), the entire family had gathered in the Room of Requirement the evening of their first proper day of school. Immediately, Rose and Lily had ushered everyone into a circle, and Louis had dragged James and Albus in front of them to tell their story. Once that had been done, Louis had leapt up and began passionately ranting, much the same as when he had first heard what had happened.
“To think that in this day and age, our relative the saviour of the wizarding world, my…my uncle is a homophobe?! Merde! I think I would rather kill myself than be associated with that…that…COUCHON!!”
“Louis, do you not think you are being a bit dramatic?” Dominique drawled, flipping her hair back.
“A bit dramatic?!” Louis shrieked, “Dominique, you may or may not realise it, but I am le homosexual!”
“Louis, you’re wearing skin-tight leather trousers and a pink waistcoat,” Freddy snorted, “I’m twelve and I don’t even need to realise anything.”
“I could be metro sexual,” Louis argued.
“Look, everyone knows you’re gay, so let’s not get into that,” Molly said practically, standing up, “The point of this whole thing is that Uncle Harry is famous, and if his dislike of homosexuals goes public it’s going to be awkward and difficult for those of us related to him who are homosexual. Louis is gay, so are James and Albus. Even though he’s never said it, everyone knows Teddy’s bisexual and obsessed with James (at this, Albus grinned and nudged a blushing James subtly, having managed to get it out of his brother that yes, he and Teddy had hooked up during the summer), and I myself am bisexual. Anyone else?”
“I’m pansexual,” Hugo supplied in his vague, lazy voice.
“Hugo, you’re more attracted to gillyweed than anything or anyone else,” Lily snorted.
“That is only because everyone looks the same to me,” Hugo explained, “But when I find someone who stands out to me, then I’ll know they’re the one for me, regardless of whether they’re a man or woman.”
“Exactly. So, out of the eleven of us here, five of us don’t identify as straight. Does anyone have a problem with that?” Molly asked, looking around.
As everyone shook their heads, she continued, “And is it fair that we become persecuted simply because of the views of a relative?”
“It is not!” Louis declared passionately, “It is tragic, and despicable! We must unite! We must be strong! Vive la revolution! Vive le homosexuals!”
“Hellyes!” Dominique yelled, getting caught up in the moment, “We shall show that man what for!”
“And how do we plan to do this?” Roxanne said sceptically, “Yell at him? Call him names and rant about how unfair he is? That would just make things worse.”
Everyone was silent as they contemplated this.
“What we need, is to show him that we’re standing together for this, one hundred percent behind James, and any other gay members of our family,” Lily said firmly, “I’ve already sent him a howler, but I doubt it will make an impact, especially as mum can’t even get through to him.”
“Perhaps a demonstration, something during a quidditch match?” Rose suggested, “Uncle Harry never misses a Canons match…”
“Non non no, sacre bleu!” Louis sighed exasperatedly, “You are all thinking of this the wrong way! Harry is but one man, he cannot harm us. It is the people who follow and listen to him that we should worry about, and it is them we should reach before he does.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” James asked curiously.
“How else are all clever things achieved,” Louis grinned smarmily, “but through politics?”
“Politics?” Roxanne asked in a disbelieving voice.
“Oh yes. It has entered my head, that a group, with enough powerful and influential members, can rally behind a cause and bring other people around to their way of thinking. Thus, I have decided to start a group, called Okay To Be Gay, with us as its founding members. Think – James is Head Boy, Albus and Dominique are prefects, Rose is the coach of the Ravenclaw quidditch team, and Freddy and Lucy are already pranking legends, not to mention that all of us are known in some capacity. If we band together, we can rally, hold meetings and encourage people to join and support us. Who’s with me?” Louis finished emphatically, throwing his arms out.
“You know I’m always your wing man,” Hugo smiled, walking over and putting his hand on Louis’ shoulder.
“We’re behind you completely too,” Lily said, as she and Rose walked over.
All the rest of the cousins stood up and gathered around Louis. Slowly, James pulled away from the wall and walked over to his extended family, leaving Albus on his own.
“Thanks guys, for sticking by me, and by each other. I’m sure this group will be very successful,” he smiled at everyone, then paused, and turned around to face his brother.
“Albus?” he asked softly.
Albus shifted uncomfortably, and stared at the ground as he mumbled, “I do agree with you, and I want to help…but if dad hears…”
“Albus Severus Potter, how can you be so cowardly?!” Lily admonished.
“Shut it Lily, you weren’t there,” James said quietly, his eyes soft as he stared at Albus, “you didn’t see what he was like. Albus, if you don’t want to join then it’s okay.”
Albus stared back at his brother, feeling more ashamed and torn than ever before.
“Albus, maybe if you attended some of the meetings, but participated in nothing public that would be acceptable?” Louis suggested in a soft voice.
Albus bit his lip, and then slowly nodded as he replied, “Yes, I could do that.”
“Excellent!” Louis beamed, clapping excitedly, “So, Hugo and I shall retire to our dorm and draw up plans for the year, Rose and Lily, could you please organise production of flyers and posters, and everyone else spread the word – we have our first meeting on Monday!”
***
“There you are,” Scorpius commented as Albus crept into the room, “you disappeared straight after dinner, where did you go?”
“Family gathering,” Albus replied, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and flopping back on his bed.
“Ah, was it because of the whole James fiasco?”
“We do it every year, but yeah, this time it was all about James getting kicked out,” Albus explained, his stomach churning unpleasantly.
“That’s totally shit by the way,” Scorpius tutted, “you know, what your dad did.”
“Yeah, he’s an asshole,” Albus sighed venomously, then added, “Louis is starting up some gay rights group, to show support for James and rally people onto his side.”
“Really?” Scorpius asked, “Are you gonna join?”
“Uh, maybe,” Albus shrugged, then added hastily, “You know, to support James and all.”
Scorpius hmm’d and nodded, before returning to his book, leaving Albus to stare up at the ceiling and mull his thoughts over. As much as he wanted to tell Scorpius everything – his being gay, his fear and hope for the future – he didn’t feel comfortable enough yet. The two boys had shared a dorm room for five years before they talked for the first time, near the end of fifth year when they noticed they were studying all the same things at the same time, and had decided to work together. Things had clicked into place, and they had formed a tentative, yet nurturing friendship that had grown as they spent time together while in school, and talked nearly every day during the summer. Before the James fiasco though, the most personal discussion they had ever had had revolved around them discussing the possibility of travelling around together after Hogwarts, and the sort of jobs they’d like. Albus had no idea what Scorpius’ views were on gay people, or what his family life was like. He couldn’t help but wish that Scorpius was into boys like him, and the blonde’s comments about what had happened to James were encouraging, but Albus had never been great at communication even at the best of times, and his nerves were impeding him in sussing out where Scorpius’ proclivities lay.
Albus sighed and rolled over onto his stomach, needing a distraction. He reached under his pillow and pulled out a well-worn book, which fell naturally open on the photograph section. It was this section that Albus looked through the most, at least once a day, gazing in fascination at the sallow skin and long black hair of Severus Snape. Albus couldn’t even tell himself what it was that drew him to his namesake, only that the man had an air of mystery about him, and brooding good looks to boot. What Albus wouldn’t give to meet him just once…
“Are you reading his biography again?” Scorpius asked in an amused tone, “You really are obsessed.”
“Well I was named after him,” Albus replied defensively, “I’ve a right to be curious about him.”
“My dad said he was a bitter, twisted man,” Scorpius shrugged.
“My dad said he was one of the bravest men he knew,” Albus retorted softly, staring at a still-life muggle picture of Severus, while he touched it gently.
“Suppose you never can tell how different people see you,” Scorpius commented diplomatically, putting his book away and stretching.
Albus’ gaze skittered between Severus’ face and the pale strip of skin of Scorpius’ stomach that was now showing, and he made a noise of agreement, face flushing.
“So…when’s Louis’ meeting on?” Scorpius asked nonchalantly, turning towards Albus.
“Oh, um, Monday,” Albus chocked out, eyes fixed firmly on the book in front of him, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, just want to know when you’ll be out, so I can invite my harem over,” Scorpius joked, flashing Albus a teasing grin.
Albus snorted with laughter, and replied, “You can invite your imaginary harem over whenever you want.”
Scorpius flipped him the finger, then grinned and climbed into bed.
“Night Albus.”
“Night Scorpius,” Albus replied, putting his book away.
He got changed into his pyjamas, climbed into bed and stared unseeingly into the dark, most definitely NOT thinking about Scorpius naked and involved with a harem.
***
“Bonjour everyone, and bienvennue to Okay To Be Gay!” Louis announced cheerfully from his position atop a bright pink chair at the top of the disused classroom they had taken for themselves.
Hugo lounged on a beanbag at his side, smoke from his joint winding gracefully around his head, while James, Lily, Rose and the rest of the family were scattered about the room. Along with them were about twenty other students, mostly Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, then Slytherin and finally Hufflepuff. Albus skulked at the back of the classroom, keeping an eye on everyone, while trying to press into the shadows as much as possible.
“We have gathered here in support of the non-heteronormative slice of pie,” Louis explained, “and because we want an equal life for people of all sexualities.”
A murmur of approval and agreement rose up from the crowd, several students nodding vigorously.
“Right, I think we should begin by introducing ourselves, telling everyone our sexuality, and a little bit of information about ourselves. I’ll begin. My name is Louis Delacour-Weasley, I’m in fourth year and I’m gay. I am interested in fashion and enjoy wearing both men and women’s clothes,” he finished, gesturing at the pleated skirt and heavy shirt, tie and blazer he was wearing.
“My name is Lily Potter,” Lily piped up, “I’m a fourth year and I’m straight. Two years ago I convinced my grandfather to take me skydiving, which is a secret from my grandmother and parents I will take to my grave.”
As more people stood up and introduced themselves, Albus noticed the door to the room open, and he suddenly straightened, eyes widening in shock as Scorpius entered the room, glancing about himself furtively.
Just as his eyes met Albus’, Louis’ voice called out, “Aha! A new member come to join our ranks, oui? Come come, introduce yourself s’il vous plait!”
“My name is Scorpius Malfoy,” Scorpius began, voice smooth, but eyes showing a trace of panic and nerves, “I’m a sixth year…and I’m gay.”
Albus could feel his jaw dropping at his friend’s frank admission; he and Scorpius had never discussed their sexuality with each other, and Scorpius had never made any comments to indicate which way he swung, but it was always just…assumed that he liked girls.
“Excellent! And now you must tell us something about yourself,” Louis said encouragingly.
Scorpius floundered, and Lily called out, with a calculated look in Albus’ direction, “Why did you come here today?”
“I, um, there’s something I’m curious about,” Scorpius replied, his cheeks turning a light pink.
“Well I hope your curiosity will be satisfied. Welcome to the group Scorpius,” Louis said warmly.
Scorpius smiled and nodded, and then walked over to Albus, to whom he offered a small smile, before he leaned against the wall beside him. His arm rested very lightly against Albus, who swallowed hard and remained perfectly still while his mind raced. He didn’t hear another word that was spoken at the meeting.
As soon as the meeting was over, he was out of the room like a shot, somehow just knowing Scorpius would follow. True to form, just as he turned off for the dungeons, Scorpius stepped in line with him. They walked in silence, before Scorpius sighed and then suddenly grabbed Albus and hauled him down a passageway behind a tapestry.
“All right, spill the beans,” the blonde ordered.
“What are you talking about?” Albus replied, crossing his arms as he leaned away against the wall behind him.
“Don’t play dumb with me Albus, you’ve been weird all evening.”
Albus tried to keep a blank look on his face as he stared at Scorpius, but it soon fell and he had to look away.
His arms fell by his sides and he muttered, “I was just shocked to see you there…”
“Well yes,” Scorpius grinned ruefully, “I’d wanted to tell you about being gay for a while now, but the right moment never seemed to come up, until you mentioned the meetings.”
“I suppose it’s the easiest and most straightforward way…” Albus said wryly.
“As straightforward as one can get at a GLB meeting,” Scorpius agreed.
The two friends shared amused grins, and stood in silence, Albus working up the courage to speak, and Scorpius patiently waiting for him.
“So, uh…what were you curious about?” Albus finally managed to ask, his eyes fixed on the ground.
“Huh? Ohh, well…I wanted to know…is supporting James the only reason you went to that meeting?”
“Albus’ eyes snapped up to meet Scorpius’ and he gulped loudly as he slowly shook his head.
“Why else did you go?” Scorpius asked, moving towards Albus.
This was it, now or never. Albus took a deep breath and quickly blurted, “I’m gay.”
Scorpius paused, then smiled and said, “I’d hoped that.”
“You did?” Albus asked in surprise, “Why?”
“Because I like you,” Scorpius admitted, blushing.
He was halfway across the passageway from Albus, and suddenly looked so vulnerable and unsure that Albus couldn’t leave him like that.
“Good, because I like you too,” Albus replied, smiling widely at the look of relief and joy on his friend’s face, “and I’d like to go on a date with you.”
“I’d like to that,” Scorpius beamed, reaching out and taking Albus’ hand in his.
The two teens took to their dating and subsequent relationship much the same way as they did their friendship: enthusiastic, albeit a little awkward and fumbling, but all with the best of intentions. They were addicted to snogging, until hormones and curiosity prompted them to go further, and then, WELL. Nerves kept them contented with hands and mouths, and it wasn’t until they were together a year that they had sex. They argued for nearly an hour over who would top, and made the decision with the flip of a galleon. Scorpius lost, and enjoyed bottoming so much that Albus demanded to have a turn, and things turned out hunky-dory from there. Once sex was discovered, kinks quickly followed – Scorpius found a proclivity for role-play, while Albus had a marked preference for spanking.
Two years after their first date found Albus out of the closet, estranged from his father, but happier than ever living with Scorpius, and attending his grandfather’s eightieth birthday with said boyfriend.
Thanks to Louis’ group, which had grown immensely in strength and numbers since its beginning, Albus had a firm network of support, both in school and within his extended family, after his grandparents, mother, Uncle Charlie, Uncle Bill, Aunt Fleur and Aunt Hermione joined as well, and most of his other relatives had expressed support too. Unfortunately, all this support had done nothing to sway Harry, who still refused to acknowledge either one of his sons. In fact, he was currently staring daggers at James and Teddy, who were across the room from him, arms around each other as they chatted with Bill and Charlie.
“D’ya know what?” Albus commented in a musing tone, “I reckon he’s gay.”
“Who?” Scorpius asked curiously, craning his neck.
They had encamped on a loveseat in the back corner of the large kitchen, a plate of nibbles hovering beside them, where they could snuggle close and people watch.
“Harry,” Albus replied, jerking his head in his father’s direction, “I reckon he’s gay and totally repressed and in denial.”
Scorpius paused thoughtfully and said, “Reckon you could be on to something there. It would explain the resentment and anger.”
“Mmm…you know what’s strange? His anger at me is nowhere near as bad as his anger at James. I always thought it would be the other way around seeing as everyone always says I’m so like Harry and all.”
“Yeah…” Scorpius frowned.
He suddenly smirked and said, “Maybe, he’s jealous of what James has,” with a meaningful glance at James and Teddy.
“What, you mean he…he fancies Teddy?” Albus gasped, scandalized, “That’s sick.”
“Exactly. Could you imagine being stuck in the closet, and fancying your godson who’s your son’s boyfriend?”
“Oh my god, that would be enough to drive anyone mad,” Albus sighed, “I wonder if that’s true…at least if it is, I could feel sympathy for him rather than anger.”
“Yeah…we’ll never know though, it’s all speculation.”
They were silent for a moment, before Albus suddenly groaned, “Oh Merlin, I’m getting mental images now.”
“Haha, are you thinking of Harry luring Teddy outside, and then pinning him up against a wall?” Scorpius murmured.
“Nah, Harry would never make the first move; that would be up to teddy. He’d have to really work it too cause Harry would be very reluctant.”
“Mmm, yeah, he’d have to just climb on top of him and give him no choice,” Scorpius whispered, pressing his face against Albus’ neck.
Albus flushed and replied, “Course Harry would push him off, but Teddy would start slowly stripping and touching himself, and Harry would lose all resolve and just grab him and pin him face down on the bed and fuck him till he screamed.”
“Yeah,” Scorpius panted softly, “God that…that’s pretty hot…D-do you maybe wanna play it out sometime?”
“Um, actually, there was something I was thinking we could try.”
“Mmm? What is it?”
Albus hesitated, then leaned in and whispered into Scorpius’ ear. The blonde’s eyes widened as Albus spoke, and his cock twitched as he considered it.
“Okay yeah, let’s try it.”
“Brilliant, Albus beamed, “You start with the potion and I’ll get the main ingredients.”
***
One month later found Albus and Scorpius sitting in their living room, each holding a vial.
“Bottoms up,” Scorpius said cheerfully.
“Cheers,” Albus enthused.
They gulped the potion down as fast as they could, grimacing at the taste. After a few moments, the potion took effect, and they collapsed to the floor while their bodies convulsed and changed. When it was finished, Albus found himself blinking owlishly from Harry’s weak eyes, while Scorpius’ hair rapidly changed colours as he stared in amazement at both his and Albus’ new bodies. Albus put on a pair of glasses he had nicked from his dad, and stood, Scorpius following suit. They shared a warm, triumphant smile, before seamlessly slipping into their roles.
“Harry, the reason I asked you to come over was so we could talk alone,” Teddy said calmly, taking a seat.
“I’ve nothing to say to you faggot,” Harry snapped, taking a stance by the fireplace, arms crossed.
“Oh really? I’ve seen you watching James and I you know.”
“If by watching you mean staring in disgust at your perversion,” Harry spat out.
“And actually when I say you were watching James and I more specifically I meant just me,” Teddy continued as if Harry hadn’t spoken, stretching his arms over his head.
Harry’s eyes darted down at the skin revealed, and snapped back up.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here -”
“I’m not trying to pull anything” Teddy smirked, standing up.
He walked towards Harry and stated, “You want me.”
“What the fuck?!” Harry yelled, “How dare you say su-MMPH!”
Teddy kissed Harry viciously, and the older man was so taken by surprise he barely realised he was kissing back, a needy moan rising in his throat. He came to his sense quickly, and shoved Teddy away, his chest heaving.
“Wha…what the fuck do you think - ”
“You want me,” Teddy said, eyes blazing.
“NO. No I don-”
“You want me.”
“I…I…”
“You. Want. Me.” Teddy stated firmly, never breaking eye contact.
Harry held firm for only a couple of seconds before he broke, burying his head in his hands.
“I do,” he groaned, “Merlin I want you so much but it’s so so very wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my godson!” Harry roared, “I practically raised you and now I want you so badly it’s killing me!”
“Harry,” Teddy said softly, “There’s nothing wrong with it, you can’t help who you fall for.”
As he spoke, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop to the ground. Harry’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but ogle Teddy as he unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his boxers off, so that he was standing there completely naked, cock hard and leaking.
“I want you Harry,” he said, breath hitching as he ran a hand down his chest and stomach to stroke his erection, “p-please Harry, I need you.”
As they stared into each other’s eyes, there was a flash when it was Albus staring out at Scorpius, before Harry made a desperate noise and lunged at Teddy, kissing the younger man passionately. The two men stumbled into the bedroom, where Harry pinned Teddy down on the bed and had his way with him. He bit and licked and sucked and touched every inch of skin he could. He swallowed Teddy’s cock to the root, pinched his nipples, marked his chest and stroked down his sides and legs, turning Teddy into a quivering wreck beneath him. Harry then flipped the other man over, licked down his spine, breathed in his scent, and then fucked him open with his fingers and tongue. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his cock, and plunged into that tantalizing, maddeningly tight hole. His hips worked, furiously thrusting while Teddy moaned loudly and continually beneath him.
“Oh…oh…oh yes, right there, tha- oh – ohgodyessss…”
Teddy jerked himself off while Harry’s thrusts grew erratic, and with yells, they came together, collapsing in a tangle on the bed.
As they rolled apart and looked at each other, it was once more Albus and Scorpius looking at each other from strangers’ bodies.
“That,” Albus panted, “was fucking amazing.”
***
Over the next few months, the polyjuice sex occurred more and more. The boys, especially Albus, couldn’t get enough of taking on the role of someone else, for an hour of losing all inhibitions and getting lost in the illicit thrill of what they were doing.
One day, Albus was getting dinner ready, and planning out how to get the hair of one of the guys in work, when there was a sharp crack of someone apparating into the apartment.
“Scorp? Is that you? Did you get the wi-” Albus called out, when James walked into the room, eyes regarding him half-lidded.
“Oh, hey James, what’s up?” Albus asked, reaching out to give his brother a hug.
Rather than hug him back, James grabbed Albus and pulled him against him, before kissing him passionately.
Albus made a shocked noise, and struggled briefly before managing to pull away. His breathing was ragged and a lustful tingle ran from his lips down to his groin, but he used shock and anger to ignore this.
“James, what the hell are you - …Scorpius?” he asked incredulously, staring into the other man’s eyes.
“Hey,” Scorpius smiled shyly, “I thought I’d surprise you.”
“But..why James?”
Scorpius blushed and replied sheepishly, “I saw you looking at these hairs for the past few weeks, and got curious. Imagine my surprise when I found I was your brother.”
“And you still came over to me?” Albus said hesitantly, biting his lip.
“Of course,” Scorpius smiled, “If it’s something you want, then I want to do it for you.”
Albus felt two emotions occur simultaneously; one a tender, warm and overpowering love for this wonderful wonderful man who would allow Albus to be himself, and the other a desire for something so forbidden and taboo he had never dared to really think about it. It was disorientating, to feel love and lust for two different things in the one body, so he went with what he had right now.
Leaning in, he placed a soft kiss on James’ lips, then smirked and said, “Well then, I suppose you’ve got a thing or two to teach your little brother.”
“It doesn’t feel like you’re that little anymore,” James smirked, reaching down and squeezing Albus’ length through his trousers.
Albus moaned, and pushed James back against the nearest countertop, hands fumbling with his trouser zipper.
“Clothes. Off. Now,” he gasped in between kisses.

Afterwards, when Scorpius was Scorpius again, Albus kissed him tenderly, hands moving over him gently.
“I love you,” Albus whispered.
“I love you too,” Scorpius beamed.

After that episode, the polyjuice sex occurred as regularly as usual, except now Scorpius noticed that Albus was taking polyjuice less and less. He would give Scorpius a vial and saunter off to the bedroom with a wink, taking off his clothes as he went. Scorpius would take the potion, and when he had changed, he would strip and head to the bedroom where he would find Albus; sometimes changed and sometimes not, either slicking up his cock, or with four fingers buried to the hilt in his ass.
Soon enough, Albus stopped taking polyjuice altogether and then the frequency of their regular sex dropped off. Whatever sex they had was amazing, but Scorpius started to feel more and more unwanted, more like a body to just be changed into another and used. He alternated between springing on Albus unexpectedly, just to get that feeling of passion back and withdrawing from his lover, in the hopes that Albus would chase after him.
They hadn’t had sex in over a month, when one day Albus arrived home, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Scorpius looked up from reading an article on the wizarding world’s newest and biggest independent politician, Louis Weasley, and his heart clenched at how beautiful he looked. Hopefully, he thought, maybe Albus realised how much he missed him and had come home to make up for it. All this crashed though, when the dark-haired man opened his mouth.
“I’m going to train to be an Unspeakable.”
“What? Why? I thought you were happy in the Department for Magical Creatures?”
“I found out that Severus Snape’s body is preserved in the Department of Mysteries,” Albus explained excited. “If I can get in there I can get some of his hair.”
Oh.
Scorpius’ face fell, but he tried to joke, “Still obsessed with him, eh?”
“Of course,” Albus grinned, then looked serious as he asked, “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Scorpius smiled, while his stomach churned unpleasantly.
Albus smiled, walked over and sat down on Scorpius’ lap, winding his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.
“You’re so good to me. Let’s do something for you tonight. You wanna role play a little?”
Scorpius felt as though he’d been doing nothing but role-playing for the past few months. He was tired of being everyone else and not getting to do what he wanted.
“No,” he replied, “Tonight I want it to be you and me only.”
Albus paused, looked at him strangely, then smiled, nodded and kissed him happily and hungrily.
***
Once Albus started training for the role as an Unspeakable, the sex pretty much dried up altogether. Although he was miffed at first, Scorpius was shocked to find that he felt a tiny bit of relief – at least now he didn’t have to take anymore polyjuice. He knew that meant he should have talked to Albus a long time ago about his dislike of the potion being used as part of their sex life, but whenever it happened, he just couldn’t deny the man anything. He was stupidly and painfully in love with Albus, and would do anything to keep him happy.
Merlin he was pathetic.
It was just before their fourth year anniversary that Albus finally achieved his goal.
“I’ve got it!” he called out triumphantly as he tumbled through the floo, a pouch in once hand, “I finally got it!”
Scorpius, who had been frowning over whether to order in Chinese or Indian, looked up in surprise.
“What did you get? Did Lucy finally order in those fake wands you wanted?”
“No no,” Albus shook his head, then leaned in to give him a peck on the lips, “I got into the vault where they’re keeping Severus’ body,” and he held up the pouch.
“You got his hair?” Scorpius gasped, “That’s brilliant Al!”
“I know,” Albus beamed, “So do you think you can start brewing the polyjuice now?”
“Sure,” Scorpius replied, feeling an old ache twist his insides.

For the next month, Scorpius tended to the potion and studied everything he could on Severus Snape while Albus practically vibrated with excitement, which did wonders for their sex life. Every night, Albus was all over him, and Scorpius threw himself into the moment, not thinking that it was all possibly because of what was going to happen and not because of a renewed desire for him.
Eventually, the polyjuice was ready, and so were Albus and Scorpius. Scorpius, dressed in volumous black robes, drank it down quickly, while Albus, dressed in his old school uniform, watched on eagerly.
When the change was complete, Severus Snape looked up, black eyes glittering menacingly, and in a smooth, deep voice said, “Mr. Potter, today was the fifth time you were late to my class, within which you subsequently failed to produce an adequate potion. This is your fifth detention, and I must say it is a wonder that you were not placed in Hufflepuff, as you seem not to be able to learn from your mistakes. Or, is it simply that you, like your father, enjoy tormenting me?”
Throughout this speech, Albus had gaped in shock and amazement at him, and he now snapped his jaw shut. He blushed, lowered his gaze and said, “I’m sorry sir,” in a bashful tone, “I don’t want to torment you.”
“It seems a detention spent writing lines is wasted on you Mr. Potter. I think other methods may be required. Corporal punishment perhaps?”
“Cor- I don’t understand,” Albus said in a confused tone.
Severus regarded the boy with a sneer and then swept across the room, where he took a seat on a solid wooden chair.
“Take off your trousers and under garments,” he ordered impassively.
“Sir?”
“You heard me boy!” Severus barked.
Albus flinched, and then sprung into action, hastily removing his trousers and boxers – leaving him standing in front of the potions master in only his shirt and tie. Severus nodded approvingly and crooking his finger, he beckoned the boy over. Albus walked over stiffly, his face red but his cock twitching and swelling slightly. Severus smirked and when Albus was standing by him he patted his lap.
“Bend over, face down.”
He merely raised an eyebrow at the boy’s startled, questioning look and then gave him a firm commanding look in return. Albus licked his lips, took a deep breath and then slowly bent over Severus’ lap. Severus arranged the boy to his liking so that his lovely round arse was right at the edge of one leg.
He left his hand resting on it as he spoke, “Now, let’s see if ten strokes will do the trick of disciplining you.”
“Ten?” Albus squawked.
“Very well fifteen. And you will count each one.”
“But sir-”
“Twenty.”
There was silence followed by a sullen “Yes sir.”
“Good boy,” Severus smirked patting his arse before raising his hand.
He remained still for a few moments enjoying the shivers and slight squirms of the boy on his lap and letting the anticipation draw out, before suddenly bringing his hand down with a sharp crack.
“One!” Albus yelped, his breath catching in his throat as he began to become aroused.
He couldn’t help himself; Severus had an incredible aura around him, that voice was enough to make him melt, and the man clearly knew how to create the perfect mix of pleasure and pain with his spanking.
“Two!” Albus cried out as the hand cracked down again.
By the sixth slap, Albus was fully hard, and on the tenth slap, Severus paused and ran his hand over the reddened skin, admiring the contrast of it against the paleness of his hand. Albus moaned loudly, hips unconsciously rutting against Severus’ leg. Severus tutted and moved Albus up so that his erection was hanging between Severus’ spread legs. Albus whined as he pumped his hips futilely, desperate for friction. He was so fucking close it was unreal, he didn’t know if he could survive the next ten strokes before he passed out from lack of blood in his brain, and his cock felt like it was about to explode, it was so hard. Severus used one hand to spread Albus’ cheeks and traced the outline of his entrance with the other, before delivering another sharp slaps over it.
“Ohjesusfuckingchrist Eleven!”
Albus didn’t know how he managed to keep counting through to twenty; by the end his eye were rolled back, he was flushed, sweaty, gasping for breath and practically sobbing from being stuck on the edge of orgasm for so long.
“Have you learned your lesson Mr. Potter?” Severus asked, voice deepened with lust, as his hands continued to rub over his ass and down into his crack.
“Y-yes sir,” Albus gasped.
“Good boy. It seems you enjoyed that a little too much,” Severus smirked, as he slipped a finger just inside Albus’ entrance.
“YES! Oh-oh, p-please sir,” Albus begged.
“Please what?”
“Please sir- need you…ohgodneedyou…fuck, pleasepleaseplease,” Albus babbled.
“I’m afraid I cannot understand what it is you’re asking of me. You will have to be more clear.”
Albus whined in frustration, before he somehow managed to say slowly, “I need you to fuck me sir. Please.”
“If that is what you desire,” Severus said in the silkiest of tones, “Then I shall oblige.”
With one spell, Albus felt stretched and lubricated, and with another Severus was naked. Albus barely had time to think before Severus pulled him up, positioned him so he was straddling his lap, and plunged straight into him. Albus cried out in pleasure, clinging to the older man’s shoulders. He then placed his feet firmly on the ground and started to move, impaling himself over and over again, moaning continuously. Severus’ hands settled on his hips, helping him to move, and he leaned in to kiss and nibble at Albus’ neck. Soon Severus started to move his hips, and the two men rocked together in a primal rhythm that grew faster and harder as they continued. Albus leaned back further and Severus thrust harder so that his cock hit the boy’s prostate with every stroke, and they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Oohhh…Scorp- Severus,” Albus groaned, “I’m so closennnnggg.”
He buried his face against Severus’ neck and the older man reached down and stroked his erection roughly. Back arched and face contorted with passion, Albus screamed his way through his climax, Severus following suit. They stayed tangled up together, breathing heavily, feeling completely sated. Eventually Albus leaned back a bit, and took the other man’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said leaning in to kiss him softly, “Thank you Scorpius, that was better than I could have hoped for.”
“My pleasure,” Scorpius rumbled, smiling back.
Maybe now, Albus’ curiosity and obsession will be over. Maybe we can just be us again…
***
“Is it so wrong to want to live in a world where love regardless of the people involved, is seen as a beautiful thing? Is it wrong to want to live in a world of equality for everyone, regardless of his or her gender or sexuality? I do not think so,” Louis Weasley said firmly, “and I think that many of you agree with me. I believe you are ready for a change, and if elected as Minister of Magic, I will do my utmost to bring about that change! Ennui has settled upon our ministry, and with that comes a lack of service for our diverse community. I say, Ennui no more!”
A cheer rose up at his words, and Albus beamed as he watched his cousin’s rally on the television. From the days of ‘Okay To Be Gay,’ Louis had found a firm interest in and appreciation of, politics, becoming an instant independent hit amongst the wizarding community. Known for his eccentric dress-sense and passionate ranting, he nevertheless had a shrewd mind and knew how to appeal to any sort of crowd.
Scorpius stepped out from the fireplace in a flame of floo powder, and walked straight over, eyes trained on the television.
“I caught the start of it before I left work how did he do?”
“Great the crowd loves him” Albus smiled, turning his head to give Scorpius a welcome home kiss.
Scorpius then started to kiss Albus’ cheek and then down his neck, while his hands ran slowly over his arms and stomach.
“No, not tonight,” Albus murmured pushing Scorpius away.
Scorpius stiffened, and then spat out, “I bet you wouldn’t be saying that if I had polyjuice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Albus asked astonished.
“It means exactly what I said. You do realise that in the past year, we haven’t had sex unless I’ve taken polyjuice”
“That’s not true!” Albus retorted hotly, “There was…um…Well you always seemed to like it!”
“I did at first,” Scorpius admitted, “When we were both taking polyjuice and it was just something we tried out every now and then. But we started having sex less and less, and you stopped taking polyjuice, and I felt like nothing more than a body for you to give polyjuice to and fuck.”
“But…you never said no, you always did it.”
“Because I love you!” Scorpius yelled, “Because I want to make you happy! But you became so bloody selfish about the whole thing I can’t take it anymore!”
“You did it because you loved me, even though it made you unhappy?” Albus said incredulously, “You’re a total IDIOT!”
“Well then if I’m a total idiot you don’t even want anymore, then I’ll just go!” Scorpius yelled, jumping up and storming off to the bedroom.
“Scorpius, no wait!” Albus called running after him, “Please don’t go. I’m sorry, I do want you, I just…I just really liked the polyjuice too” he finished feebly.
Scorpius had summoned some clothes and toiletries and packed them in an overnight bag. Once he was done, he whipped around, eyes blazing with anger and unshed tears. He knew that this was probably coming out of nowhere for Albus, but it had been building up for over a year within him, leaving him angry and bitter.
“Well you’d better have a long think about whether it’s me, or the polyjuice you really want in your life.”
With that, he picked up his bag spun on the spot and apparated away, leaving Albus feeling dazed, confused and immensely lonely and upset.
***
“Ready to march in front of the masses?” Rose called down from her position astride a broomstick, out of the back of which a stream of rainbow sparkles sprayed.
“Of course,” Albus called back, just about managing a smile.
It had been three months since Scorpius had left; at first, Albus had been angry and confused, but when he had finally taken a step backwards and thought about the whole affair, he had realised just what he had done to Scorpius. He had then spent several weeks moping and feeling sorry for himself for being such a bastard, before he gave himself a slap told himself to cop on and went in search of Scorpius. Unfortunately, at that point, Scorpius had gone travelling, and Draco had informed him in a cool tone that he didn’t know where his son was or when he’d be back. So Albus had fallen into misery once again, and it was up to Louis, the newly elected Minister of Magic, to intervene and drag him out of it.
To celebrate his election victory, Louis had declared a gay pride day, during which he was having a giant parade through Diagon Alley. Naturally, his family and the founding members of Okay To Be Gay had been roped in to help and so Albus found himself dressed up in a baby blue skin-tight suit with a blue fedora, and carrying a banner, with Molly carrying the other side. Louis was on a float, wearing pink spandex and a giant pink feather boa, his eyelids heavily lined and surrounded by a mass of glitter.
“Okay so we shall march and then there will be some speeches, and then, we shall party the night away!” Louis announced.
The group cheered and stamped their feet ready to go. Music started up, and the parade moved forward, everyone cheering and singing and clapping their hands.
‘It’s okay to be gay, let’s rejoice with the boys in the gay way…’
People lined the streets waving flags and cheering the marchers on. Smiles graced every face, and as the parade passed through, people joined in at the back, following it down to the Ministry of Magic, where it ended at the fountain in the foyer.

“It is a magnificent day that we have here,” Louis spoke seriously, “A day of revolution, of change, of hope for the future, and I thank you all from the bottom of my soul for helping to make this happen. I promise to serve faithfully and to the best of my abilities, and to never lose sight of the values and vision I began this campaign with. Finally, I would like to announce that a new law, allowing gay marriage, has finally been passed, and the first to benefit will by my cousin James Potter, who is engaged to his partner Theodore Lupin.”
The crowd cheered and applauded, and Albus gave a smile and a thumbs up to his brother, who was blushing and beaming, his arm around Teddy’s shoulder.
“I see that Louis’ already doling out family favours,” a voice said teasingly behind him.
Albus jumped and spun around, eyes widening when he saw the speaker.
“Scorpius!” he croaked out, “When did you get back from your trip?”
“A few days ago” Scorpius shrugged, “Louis sent me an invitation for today, and I couldn’t say no.”
“It’s good to see you,” Albus blurted out, “I…I tried to find you, but you were gone…”
“Yes, father told me,” Scorpius said coolly.
Right, obviously I’m going to have to do all the work here…
“Look Scorpius…um…well, the reason I tried to find you was to apologise.”
Scorpius raised an eyebrow, and Albus hastily continued. “It took me a while to realise it, but what I did to you was selfish and wrong and unfair and I feel absolutely horrid when I think about it. It got carried away, but please Scorpius, you have to realise that it is only you I want. Whenever you took the polyjuice, it didn’t matter who you were. I only had to look into your eyes to see you, and that’s what was so good that it was always you, and I always knew that. Scorpius, I love you more than anyone or anything, and I would never touch polyjuice again if it meant having you back in my life again.”
Scorpius, who had been just about managing to keep up a cold and indifferent façade, practically crumbled by the end of Albus’ speech.
“Oh Albus,” he sighed softly, “I just don’t know…you say this now, but what about a month or two down the line? When you get bored of sex with just me and want excitement?”
Albus laughed softly, shaking his head, and replied, “Scorpius, I could never get tired of sex with you. I can’t promise that I’ll be up for it every night, but I’m never not going to want you. I’m not asking you to jump right back into a relationship with me, but maybe…I could take you out on a date? We could take things slowly?”
Scorpius bit his lip, brow furrowed as he mulled it over. Albus watched hopefully, praying and wishing he hadn’t lost his chance.
“I suppose a date wouldn’t cause any harm,” Scorpius eventually said.
Albus released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and smiled.
“Okay” he said, “Okay, that’s good. Thank you for giving me this chance; I swear I won’t mess this up.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Scorpius smirked, eyes travelling down Albus’ body. “Hmm, you look good.”
“Oh,” Albus blushed, suddenly remembering what he was wearing, “You can blame Louis.”
“I think I’ll thank him instead,” Scorpius winked.
And just like that – awkward and fumbling, but enthusiastic with the best of intentions, Albus felt a joy and lightness settle over him as he and Scorpius laughed together, and thought, Yeah, I think we can do this.

The End

Dorian Gray: part book, part I JUST DON'T KNOW

phys_nut — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 00:41:49 GMT

first off, a HUUUUGGGGEEEE thank you to filmatleven who put up the link for downloading this and thus, giving me a chance to watch it, THANKS YOU HUN!!!! :D

okay, so i've just finished watching the latest Dorian Gray movie, starring Ben Barnes and Colin Firth...and well...i just don't know what to make of it. On one hand, Ben is beautiful, the acting is very well done and it's visually appealing and whatnot...on the other hand, there are parts of the movie where they fuck with the storyline of the book so much i'm practically having a fit of indignance on oscar wilde's behalf. (yes i'm one of those people who very much believe that if you're going to make a book into a movie then you should AT LEAST stick to the storyline of the book!) The rest of this entry will have spoilers for both the film and the book so i'm going to stick it under a cut because i'm lovely like that! ;)

So, things i liked:

- The montage and visual representation of Dorian's fall from grace into pure hedonistism. This was excellently portrayed and i really enjoyed it, especially considering that this is utterly BORING in the book, so yay for that!

- The Death of Basil. Very artsy with the use of sound and the visualisation and all that.

- The portrait, and it's POV whenever people were looking at it, and how it seemed alive because it's dorian's soul and whatnot. i love seeing the different ways the movie handle how the portrait looks, and i'm pretty happy with this movie's version!

- Ben Barnes. Not only is he EXCEPTIONALLY pretty, but his acting i thought, was top notch, from his wide-eyed-with-wonder persona at the start of the book, to his gradual down-hill slide and his utter torment near the end. i know people were giving out because dorian's supposed to have ivory white skin, blue eyes and short blond hair, but Ben was a lovley dorian!

Things i most decidedly did NOT like:

- The start. okay, it wasn't THAT bad, but pretty much the first nearly half an hour is all made up. and the first meeting of dorian and lord henry is just all wrong and it just didn't sit with me right.

- The way the film delt with the dorian/sybill relationship. We saw like barely 2 seconds of her acting, which is what captivates him in the first place, (and that's also the first time he sees her, rather than in a frickin gin joint!) and then his falling out of love with her was ALL WRONG. he doesn't run off with henry to a brothel and decide he'd rather have pleasures than get married, because he's convinced he's in love with her. what happens is that she stops acting well because she can't pretend to be in love now that she's actually in love, and thus dorian doesn't love her anymore. it's supposed to show his absolute shallow nature and how he could only love her for her skill and ability to lie rather than who she really is, and the film just tore that assunder.

- The addition of henry's daughter. This was just all sorts of wrong, because lord henry's character is such that we never actually see his wife, because he's married but a total philanderer and is quite content to have a completely separate life from his wife and doesn't want to have a family and is only married because that's what is done, it's not out of love or desire or anything.

- The way henry corrupted dorian. In the books it's all about lord henry's words, literally all he does is talk and talk and it's his words and the way he speaks that ignites the passion in dorian and prompts him to go out and try out these vices. Essentially in the book, henry is just a catalyst, the whole going out to brothels and opium dens and all that is all by dorian's own choice, because his downfall is his alone. In the film, this is totally disregarded by henry dragging dorian out to gin joints and brothels, encouraging him to be a total womaniser and to do opium and everything, which then sets dorian off to continue doing all that.

- The way dorian got rid of basil's body. yeah this isn't a big deal, but it's another detail ontop of other big ones so it just pissed me off.

The ending - WHAT. THE. FUCK. like...it's just....this is the bit that makes me the most mad because just ARGH!! like, first of all, henry NEVER see's the portrait, he knows that something's up with dorian, but it doesn't come across that he actually figures out the connection with the portrait. and he never tries to go see the portrait, only asks about it once and leaves it at that. There is no fire, all that it is is that dorian is so tormented that he wants nothing more than to rid himself of the ghastly portrait and so, without thinking, he stabs it. The servants then come up and see this old, grissley man lying on the ground with the portrait in perfect condition beside him. i think it's far more chilling this way, and it's such a hollywood attempt to add excitement to the ending, rather than preserving the tormented angsty chilling ending that the book has, i was so dissapointed!

Things i'm not too sure what to make of:

- The Dorian/Basil relationship. The whole thing about the book was that it was FILLED with homoerotic subtext that was subtle, but not subtle at the same time, with Basil being utterly and openly BESOTTED with dorian, who either knows and ignores, or more than likely just is oblivious to. The film has NONE of this subtext, and instead replaces it with one very much NOT subtle moment between dorian and basil, which was hot and jaw-dropping. But while that was hot, the really loved the subtext from the book, subtext which the older films handled BEAUTIFULLY, especially the 1976 version (which is actually my favourite version!) so yeah...i don't know what i really feel about it.

So yeah, i think that if you hadn't read the book then it's a great film, very nicely directed, wonderful acting all around, lovely use of music, and the atmosphere of the dark places visited is palpable. But because i have read the book, and it has been translated to film amazingly well before, i had higher expectations for this so i was quite disappointed with bits! What did anyone else think??

In other news, i went into town today to get stuff to make my pop-up book (and see if i could spot colin filming anywhere!) and ended up getting my nipple pierced! i'd been thinking about it for ages, and so today i just decided 'Fuck it, let's do it now!' so yeah...it was a little painful, but afterwards was all tingly and kind of nice - who'da thunk it? i'm quite pleased with it and can't wait for it to be fully healed! and ontop of that i got two new Neil Gaimen books - Fragile Things and The Graveyard Book. *happy happy dance* so i've got a WONDERFUL reading list ahead of me!!

Birthday Number One!

phys_nut — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 02:53:03 GMT

Okay, so i LOVE using the 'Stumble' App on Firefox, and my latest stumble is a site which tells you the number one song on the date of your birth!! CHECK IT OUT! AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOUR SONG IS!

CHECK OUT MY NUMBER ONE BIRTHDAY SONG!! *dances wildly*

Meme from Schmoooop!

phys_nut — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 12:15:33 GMT

First, list Ten Celebrity Crushes and then answer the questions under the cut.

OMG, it was so difficult to shorten it down!and i had to have boys and girls, so i just alternated, instead of putting them in order, because that would have taken FAR too long!

1. Kate Moennig

2. Johnny Depp

3. Kate McGrath

4. Colin Morgan

5. Eliza Dushku

6. Bradley James

7. Lisa Hannigan

8. Jensen Ackles

9. Zooey Deschanel

10. Fran Kranz

►So what do you like most about 2?
I saw Edward Sissorhands first when i was seven, and instantly fell in love with him, even now 16 years on, that movie still makes me feel all mushy and heartbroken at once. i love how he just goes for whatever movie strikes his fancy, even if he knows it wont be very famous, and his dedication and passion for acting is amazing!

►If you could do anything with 4, what would it be?
NAUGHTY THINGS!! haha, actually i'd love a day of books, tea, theatre and hanging out (also i'd totally try to find out if him and bradley were actually involved ^^ ).

►Who would you choose between 5 and 7?
Lisa Hannigan - Eliza's totally hot, but i'm a sucker for a woman that can play a musical instrument and sing!

►Out of a ten, how much would you rate 1?
10 times like, a million!

►What do you find most attractive about 1?
Her demeanor, she's just really chilled and funny, and always is really nice to interviewers and fans. Plus her voice sends shivers up my spine, and she's just that side of androgynous which is incredibly hot.

►If you could go out with 3, what type of date would you go on?
hit up dublin big style! grab dinner in a pub, and then go to a gig, something loud and jumpy. Afterwards we'd go to either a pub or a nightclub or an arcade and bash about before going for pie!

►If 8 was a type of season, which season would it be?
Summer - tight t-shirts, driving around on your motorbike/car and ACDC blasting in your head!

►Why is 10 not higher up your list?
i didn't really have an order to this, but i guess cause he's the latest crush i have

►So what does 10 have to do to be brought higher up?
Stick around, get into more films/tv series (i'm sure joss will recycle him at some point!)

►What would the ideal situation be for you for 2 and 4?
OMG, they would be great in some really obscure indie film together, like a guy who takes in a blind young homeless man, who turns out to be a robot or an alien or something, but they fall in love anyway!

►Which two people would you want to be stuck with on a desert island?
Probably Kate Moennig and Bradley - someone to get incredibly hyper with, and someone to chill with, and both i can laugh with!

►Marry, shag or kiss - 4, 6, 8?
Marry - I already have plans to marry Colin and give bradley to him as a wedding present, but i'd be happy to keep him to myself, i can write and he can act and we can share books and go to see plays and gigs and have a giant record collection...*spaces off into happy fangirl land*
Shag - It would have to be Jensen, cause well...yeah... *grins*
Kiss - Bradley, he looks like he'd be a really good kisser, plus those arms wrapped around me... ^_____^

►What do you hate most about 7?
She only has one album out, i want more!!

►Have you ever thought how you'll react when you meet 3?
haha, yes. my plan is to act really cool and subltly flirt with her, but i'm hopeless at flirting in any way shape or form, so i'd probably end up starin g at her for ages, working up the courage to say hi and by the time i did she'd have left because of my staring...i would like to ask her where she got her glasses, because they are ADORKABLE!

►Have you seen 1 and 2 together on TV before?
unfortunately no, but that would be hella deadly!!

►Have you ever dreamt about 6?
YES!! the other night i had a dream that me and my sis were out in a pub, and when we were leaving, this guy walked past us and started smiling at me like he knew me, and i was like WTF??!! and it wasn't until we'd left that i was like "OMG WAS THAT BRADLEY JAMES??!!" and my sis was like "ehhhh, yeah!" THEN i saw Colin and asked him if i could get a picture with him, but then my camera broke. then i woke up. goood dream! ^_^

►Who would you take to a prom/ball with you?
Bradley, because i LOVE to dance, and it seems he does too! (plus i'd totally try to get him to do the thriller dance!)

►Cuddle, glomp, or kiss 1, 3, 5?
►Cuddle - Eliza
►Glomp - Kate McGrath
►Kiss - Kate Moennig

►If you could give anything to 9, what would it be?
a hug and a new guitar!

►Out of all of them - who would you:
►Kick? Eliza, just to see how good she is after all taht training from buffy and dollhouse!
►Kiss? Kate Moennig
►Pinch cheek? Colin
►Run away with? Lisa, we'd live in a cottage and grow our own veetables and make pop up books and music everyday!
►Act like an idiot with? Jensen
►Cry on? Colin, i need someone who can give good hugs!
►Take to see your parents? Bradley, he's such a bloke, my mam would love him!
►Cross dress with? Again Bradley, he makes such a pretty woman!
►Swap lives with for a day? Zooey, i'd spend the day pretending to be Katie Perry and see how many people i could fool!

watch this!!

phys_nut — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 00:44:10 GMT

this is just...absolutely sweet and wonderful and just this side of EPIC. i'm just after watching it and i want to share it with all of you!!

What's Brown and Sticky???

phys_nut — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 00:12:26 GMT

.....A BROWN STICK!!!

yes, yes i love bad jokes, in every way, whether they're offensive, nerdy or just plain awful! another one (awful) would be:

"What do you call cheese that's not yours?

NACHO CHEESE!" (you need to say it out loud to get it, but it's good i promise!)

and for anyone who's ever studied vectors or maths physics, here's my favourite nerd joke:

"What do you get when you cross an elephant with a mountain climber?

Nothing, you can't cross a scalar!" (if anyone actually wants me to explain this i will!)

okay i'm going to stop with the terrible jokes now!!

so i'm FINALLY back training and teaching at the karate club, after the awful weather last week! it was really good to be back and see all the kids and get some proper exercise done, it's crazy just how cranky i get without my regular boost of adrenaline and endorphins! and i've decided that i'm going to start properly training for my 3rd degree black belt, i'd like to get it in either march or april, so it gives me plenty of time to get the rest of the extensions down and remember all my old techniques!

went out to dinner with a bunch of guys from college, it was really good to see them again, the last time i did was the pub crawl before christmas when we all got smashed and i tried an irish carbomb for the first time (NICEST THING EVER! you get a pint glass, half fill with guiness, then get a shot glass and put half baileys, half whiskey into the it. Then you drop the shotglass into the pint and drink down as fast as you can. it sounds disgusting, but it smells and tastes like chocolate milk, amazing!!) and explained the pinapple thing to a guy (apparantly if a guy eats a lot of pinapples and other such fruits his spunk tastes better.) i know this because i read it in a magazine, and one of the girls backed me up from her own experience. I think we traumatised him though, he was only a wee gosin from cork, cutest little babyface and cork accent on him!
So we had dinner there the other night, to say goodbye to one of the girls who's gone back to paris for the next god knows how many months, and as a belated happy birthday to one of the guys, who's birthday outting was cancelled due to the weather. BUT IT'S OKAY BECAUSE I PROMISED HIM WE WOULD GO OUT AND I'D BE HIS WINGMAN AND GET HIM BOYS TO KISS!! (he only came out to me less than a year ago, so i'm still giddy whenever we talk about men, it's a good thing he gets giddy too or it'd be right scarlet for me!)

During this dinner, we were all talking about school and groups and whatnot, and it came out that pretty much everyone at the dinner was a big nerd in school and didn't like sports or anything like that at all...except for me! yes, it turns out that i am a JOCK NERD, and not even at the same time! when i'm a jock, I'M A JOCK - i hang around with mostly guys in karate, love talking crude shit with them and generally when someone asks me about stuff i'm like "eh, just hit him!" and then when i'm a nerd, I'M A NERD - nothing gets me more riled up than incorrect maths/physics on tv, especially when it's to do with supernovas or stars or the sun or our magnetic pole or the core of the earth because i have a degree in astrophysics, and will go on a giant rant about how and why it's wrong... so it turns out i'm a freak. but that's okay because i like being special :D

Still trying to find a full-time job, to no avail, while working two part-time jobs to keep me going, and still filling out graduate/HDip application after application...though i managed to get my deposit for Camp USA paid and found three people to supply character references for me, so WOO!!

Life ain't so bad for me, and according to my horoscope for the year, i'd going to be freed from old restrictions and will (hopefully) flourish with my new freedom. sounds perfect to me :D

Also i REALLY want to make a pop-up book!

how's tricks with everyone else? What's the craic??