Deja Vu (I've Been Here Before, But There's More to Explore)

by Laurieonalark

Summary:

Ten years ago, Arthur made the worst mistake of his life: leaving Merlin behind. He's regretted it almost every day since, but accepted long ago that the damage was done. Though he fantasized about what might happen if they met again, he felt certain that Merlin would never forgive him for the hurt he had caused.

However, while back in Wales for a legal conference to represent Pendragon Law, he runs into Merlin, who, by some miracle, doesn't seem to hate his guts as he should. They fall back into each other's lives as if no time has passed, and Arthur can't help but wonder if this is his chance to fix things. Maybe, just maybe, if he does this right, he could have the thing he wants most.

Notes:

This concept has possessed me entirely for almost all of July, because sometimes you listen to a song and just know it has to be a story.

Thank you to my cheerleaders and friends who screamed along with me about this fic, you have all my love and thanks!!!!!

This fic is titled after (and entirely inspired by) Deja Vu by Arrows in Action.

Chapter 1: damn, i thought that we left this all behind

Today was supposed to be fun, Arthur thinks bitterly as the train shudders to a stop, wheels screeching loud enough to cut through his headphones. Outside the window, Cardiff Central settles into view, the platform awaiting him like a siren on the rocks with a song ready to lure him to his death.

Dramatic, much, taunts a voice in his head that sounds a little too much like Morgana for his liking.

"We have arrived at Cardiff Central station, next stop: Bridgend. Thank you for travelling with Great Western Railway, and we hope to see you again. Mind the gap."

Around him, fellow passengers rise, grab bags, and hurry off the train, but Arthur can't help but drag along. The sun isn't even up yet, if it were a normal Friday, he'd still be in bed with Cavall, but instead he's here, facing this legal conference as the sole representative of Pendragon Law.

It really shouldn't be so much of a slog, is the thing. He should be excited, and he does want to be. This is his first real opportunity to show off the new and improved Pendragon law, the first chance he's gotten to let people see what the firm will be with him at the wheel, and he cares so deeply about what they will see. He's done so much work reforming Pendragon Law, work that he's deeply proud of, and this weekend is his time for showcasing it. He should be happy.

Right as he settles into a cab, his phone buzzes in his hand, Leon's name on the screen, and it's only a reminder of why the wind's not in his sails.

"Did you have a good train?"

"It was a train, Leon. They're rarely exceptional."

Ever unflappable, Leon just chuckles. "It could be worse. Last year, Kay's and my train got stuck on the rail three times, we missed the opening ceremony."

"God, I'd nearly forgotten about that whole kerfuffle." It's a lie, Arthur hasn't forgotten it one bit. He remembers every bit of Uther's rage, the threats to fire Kay and Leon for it, and how he wouldn't have blamed them one bit for quitting. "No skiving off for me, though, I suppose."

"Come on, Arthur, brighten up. I know this isn't quite how you expected things to go, but maybe it's not that bad. You've got your chance to reintroduce the firm to the world, and you also get to enjoy having an entire penthouse suite to yourself."

He hums in affirmation, not quite willing to say how much he wishes he wasn't alone. He was supposed to have his team, The Round Table, as they've taken to calling themselves, the people who've made everything possible. Gwen's sick, though, so Lance has to stay in London to take care of her, and Kay's still recovering from top surgery. Then the Lichon case blew up at the very last moment, and he had to leave the rest there to hold down the fort.

On the other side of the phone, there's the sound of Morgana shouting and a door slamming, and Leon's wince is practically audible. "Trouble at the office?"

"If I'm correct, I think Morgana just finished her phone call with the opposing counsel, and, well…"

"Mordred is being a pain."

"Yep, pretty much. I should probably go see what happened, but if you-"

"No, it's fine," Arthur cuts him off quickly. "I'm almost at the conference hall anyway. I'll let you handle the crises, but call me if you need anything."

"Will do. Now, go, Arthur. Have some fun, take chances, say yes to things. Go show everyone what the Pendragon name stands for."

Leon hangs up, and Arthur stares out the window at the city, only hoping he can live up to everything he wants Pendragon to stand for.

---

For all his reticence, the second things kick off, he does lose himself in it. The opening ceremony is as corporate and sterile as anything, but after that, it's straight into panels and talks, and Arthur actually starts having fun. Despite how it might feel sometimes in the court room, he's not the only one trying to make a difference and help people, and every room he enters brings another new contact, more and more industry leaders who are impressed by what he's accomplished.

The first day is only a half day, with the afternoon free for mingling and whatnot, but Arthur's still completely wiped by noon. So, with a polite but efficient round of goodbyes, he slips out of the conference centre and heads straight for his hotel.

Checking his phone on the way, he's pleased to see relatively few texts from Leon; a few minor updates and an assurance that Morgana hasn't murdered Mordred. Yet. Gwen must be feeling better, if the barrage of encouraging texts is anything to go off of, but he still tells her to go back to resting after thanking her.

He's almost made it, just pushing the hotel door open, when a text from Morgana comes in that's just a series of angry emojis. Panic starts to set in immediately, and he trips over his own feet, straight into somebody walking his direction.

They go down fast and hard, tangled limbs trying to break the fall, and somehow Arthur ends up on his back, a mess of curly black hair in his face. He's breathless, for a moment only capable of staring up at the ceiling.

A loud groan emanates from somewhere beneath the hair, a curse word muttered somewhere within it.

"Same," Arthur grunts out. "Christ, sorry, I wasn't paying attention at all."

Arthur forces out a breath, not an easy task with a man lying on top of him, and prepares himself to be yelled at. It'd be more than a little deserving, and yet, there's nothing, only silence. It's a charged lull, tense in a way Arthur can't figure out, until the man's head whips up, and he's suddenly looking into eyes he'd recognise anywhere.

"Merlin?"

Those eyes, piercing blue, somehow even bluer than before, stare into his, not blinking. "Arthur."

It's a shock, hearing his voice again after all these years, and it's exactly the same and entirely different all at once. Still so bright and warm, with that sharp bite underneath, but there's depth to it that could only come with age. In the end, though, it's still Merlin, and the sound of him sinks into his mind, leaving him even more breathless than the fall.

Slowly, Merlin pushes himself up, getting to his feet with more grace than Arthur remembers him having. He never looks away, eyes still fixed on Arthur's like he can't believe what he's seeing, something that Arthur can quite heavily relate to.

He should get up as well, he knows it, but he feels pinned in place by Merlin's stare. It's only when there's an outstretched hand, Merlin's hand, in front of him that he even considers trying. Part of him still doesn't want to, if only because he's not sure what holding Merlin's hand again will do to him. People are beginning to stare, though, so with a fortifying breath, he takes the help and shoves up onto his feet.

"You're here. In Wales."

Arthur nods, opens his mouth, but then finds no words. Not that there aren't hundreds running through his head, but the ones he wants to say are almost certainly not the right ones. He feels like a deer in the headlights, all natural instincts failing him. Desperate, he starts looking Merlin over, casting about for something to comment on, because anything has to be better than his current speechless shock.

"Your hair, it's… curly."

Maybe not that, though.

Merlin blinks, face scrunching up in confusion for a moment before relaxing into a smile as he laughs. It's the first time Arthur's heard him laugh in ages, and he feels lighter just for hearing it.

"Really, Arthur? 10 years, and the first thing you notice is my hair?"

Arthur shrugs helplessly, tossing his hands up. "I don't know, it's different! Do you do something to it now, or was it always like this and you were just straightening it?"

Another laugh, music to Arthur's ears, paired with a classic Merlin Eye Roll, and then before Arthur can even process what's happening, he's being yanked forward into a hug. "You are absolutely ridiculous."

He's not proud of it, but he freezes, arms at his sides. It's amazing, having Merlin's arms around him again, having him right in front of him, but he doesn't know what to do with it. After how they left things, he's surprised Merlin's even talking to him, so this affection has him reeling.

Leon's words echo through his head: Take chances, say yes. It may have been meant as business advice, but it applies here even more. He's imagined this moment too much, wondered what it'd be like to see him again, and he'd be an idiot not to hold on tight.

So, he hugs him back, holds tight like he wants to, like he should've before, and hopes that maybe he can convey everything he feels in just the strength of his embrace.

They do have to separate eventually, Merlin staying close but pulling out of his arms, still smiling softly. "Now, what in the world is Arthur Pendragon doing in Wales again?"

"Legal conference. Here to represent Pendragon Law, except now as the head of the firm."

"Ooh, alright. What happened, did old Uther finally kick the bucket?"

Arthur has to sigh, unsurprised that Merlin's distaste for his father is as strong as ever. "Not quite yet, no. I actually pushed him out, managed to strong arm him into handing over the firm."

Merlin whistles, eyes widening. "I'm impressed. Taking his own firm out from under him, that's… no small feat." His head cocks to the side, eyes taking on that evaluating look, the one that feels like he's looking straight into Arthur's soul. "I'm not surprised, though. I always knew you had the strength to stand up to him."

It's heady, the full weight of Merlin's praise hitting him like a train, the faith entirely undeserved. Arthur wants to say so much, wants to thank him profusely, but the words get stuck in his throat. All he manages is a nod, a smile, as if that could possibly be enough.

He's saved by a ringing, Merlin's phone going off insistently, and the moment breaks. Merlin finally looks away, releasing Arthur from his piercing gaze so that he can finally breathe. He answers, talks fast and hushed into the phone before sighing deeply and promising whoever he's talking to that he'll be there soon.

"I have to go," Merlin says once he's hung up. Arthur can barely believe it, but he sounds rueful, like he doesn't want to, like he could maybe, actually, want to stay here with him. "You'll be in town for a couple days, right? We should, er, catch up, if you'd like? I wanna hear all about the new and improved Pendragon Law."

"Yeah, that'd be good. I've got a whole day of conference tomorrow, but I'm staying here, so. We can meet up?"

Merlin nods quickly, smile showing up again. "I hear the hotel restaurant's particularly nice." He takes a few steps back, then stops, smile shifting into something mischievous. "Pretty sure we can charge the tab to your room, too."

Arthur scoffs, though he can't hold back the smile even as he rolls his eyes. "You're so ridiculous."

Merlin grins even brighter, like he knows how much Arthur enjoys it. He says nothing else, just starts walking backwards towards the door. And then, with a wink and a wave, he's gone.

For at least a minute, all he can do is stare after him, eyes fixed on the door Merlin's just disappeared from, and take it all in. Somehow, even after a decade, it feels so natural to have Merlin in his life again, even briefly. Stronger than that, though, is the immensity with which he wants, craves, to have this back. To fix what he broke years ago, to earn Merlin back. He truly thought he had left this behind in the past, but now? It's clear to see that time hasn't lessened his love at all.

"Fuck," he mutters. "I'm so fucked."

Chapter 2: a place i only go when my eyes are closed

Ten years ago

Arthur's late. So fucking late, and he can't be late for this class again or the professor is going to have his head, but here he is, booking it across campus, all because he decided he knew better than his alarm.

Glancing down at his phone to check the time, he sees a text from Morgana, but he can't spare the time to read it. He's moving so fast that even looking at it is too much of a distraction, which is probably why he doesn't notice the person in front of him until it's too late.

He has just a split second of awareness, catching sight of dark hair and bright eyes before they collide, Arthur's feet failing him, his large frame proving too much and toppling the both of them. He only barely manages to catch himself so he doesn't fully crush the smaller man, but with his arms braced either side of his head, their faces are far too close together.

The first thing he can think is that he's never seen eyes so blue, but he's even more distracted by the little flecks of gold within. It's distracting, staring into those eyes, getting so lost in them he feels like he's swimming through a crystal pool.

"Christ, watch where you're going, you prat!"

The second thing he thinks is that, whoever this is, their manners could use some work.

He frowns, pushes himself up and away from the man. "I'm in a hurry, my apologies for not intuiting your presence. Maybe you ought to stay out of the way."

He could probably work on his manners too. It's harsher than he means to be, purely reactive, biting in a way he regrets instantly. Of course, it doesn't help that this man, rude as he may be, is also unbearably attractive, and Arthur's never been great at handling himself around pretty people. It's the first time, though, that the pretty person has been a man.

The man frowns too, and somehow his face is still pretty even as it crinkles in distaste. "Right, cause obviously everybody else should part like the sea when they see you coming, your majesty."

"That's not-"

"Whatever! You're not the only one with places to be." He stands, brushes himself off and grabs his bag, glare ever present. "Try not to barrel over any other innocents, alright?"

In a second, just as fast as he appeared, the man is gone, and Arthur's left staring at the spot he'd just occupied. He's not entirely sure what just happened, reeling slightly from being told off by the stranger, but distracted still by those eyes, that crystal blue.

He gets pulled out of his daze by his phone buzzing, Leon asking where he is because class is starting. It's officially too late, he won't even be let into the room now, so with a low, loud groan, he hikes up his bag and turns back towards his flat.

---

Over the next few months, the man starts showing up constantly. It's a marvel, truly, that in three years he's never once seen that mop of dark hair, and now he's everywhere.

They never talk, of course. Arthur tries, once, intending to apologize, but it doesn't go… well. He puts his foot in his mouth, as always, and it seems whatever hopes he had of repairing this are long gone. This man, whoever he is, has already decided that Arthur's not worth the time of day.

He can't figure out why that bothers him so much.

Through Morgana, he does manage to find out the man's name: Merlin Emrys. Apparently, he's a history and literature student, their same year, who just transferred in from some school out in Ireland. Also, and this is the bit that intrigues him the most, he's already become one of the heads of the Queer Alliance.

He knows about the Queer Alliance, of course. Morgana dragged him to a few meetings in their first year, and he never minded being there, but he also never felt like he belonged. He's straight, pretty much.

At least he thinks so. He's questioned it, at times, when he remembers how much time he spent staring at Tom Welling's Clark Kent as a teenager. But it's just appreciation, not necessarily attraction, and he likes girls, so he doesn't feel the need to examine it.

Still, in the back of a drawer in his desk is a pamphlet he picked up at the first QA meeting he ever went to, now well-worn from handling and a few scribbled notes, and as he thinks about Merlin yet again, he stares down at it.

There, in the middle of the page, under the heading "More Than Just Gay," is the word he keeps coming back to: bisexual. He's underlined it, circled it, and drawn quite a few question marks around it. Could he be that? Bisexual? Attracted to more than just women?

He's lost in his pondering, so the sound of a throat clearing spooks him more than it should. He jumps, his chair making a horribly loud screech across the library floor that makes more than a few eyes turn to him. The only eyes he's focused on, though, are a familiar crystal blue ones and, for some reason, glaring down at him from the other side of the table.

"Merlin?"

Dark, messy hair flops to the side as Merlin cocks his head, looking unimpressed. "Arthur. I have this table reserved, my study group's meeting in five minutes."

"Oh, right." So, the only reason Merlin's here is to tell him to leave. Why the hell is that so disappointing? "Of course, just… one moment."

He starts to pack up, shoving everything into his bag, feeling Merlin's eyes on him the whole time. It's unsettling, being watched so intensely, and under the scrutiny, he fumbles with the stack of papers he's collected. Most land back on the table, thankfully, but before he can even try to stop it, that pamphlet goes flying, practically soaring over to land at Merlin's feet.

As Merlin bends and picks it up, begins to consider it, Arthur freezes in place. He's not sure why he's frightened. Merlin's a part of QA, at the very least an ally if he's not queer himself. This should be fine, should be safe. Even with Merlin's animosity, surely he wouldn't use this against him.

The silence feels deafening, stretching on for ages, until Merlin finally looks up at him, and something in his eyes has softened. He's not smiling, by any means, but he's not glaring anymore, and there's a look like he's reevaluating Arthur. He doesn't say anything, simply reaches over and slides the pamphlet back into the papers, then sits down and starts to unpack his own bag.

Fast as he can, Arthur shoves everything else into his backpack, uncaring of the organization, ready to make a break for it. He's almost free, just turning his back, when Merlin finally actually speaks again.

"You know, we've got a meeting tomorrow. Nothing serious, just hanging out, playing some games. You should come."

He's not sure what to do. He can't bring himself to look back at Merlin because it feels too much like an admission of how much he wants to go. It also feels wrong to just walk away, when the olive branch has not just been extended, but volleyed at him with force. He'd be insane not to take it.

So he nods, hums in response, and then starts walking as fast as he can without actually running.

---

He goes to the meeting, of course he does, and from that point on, everything starts to change so quickly. Suddenly, Merlin's a constant in his life, showing up everywhere not out of happenstance, but because he wants to be there, and Arthur wants him there.

Their friendship is like a snowball in an avalanche. Once it gets rolling, it doesn't seem likely to stop, so it truly shouldn't be a surprise when things shift.

It's only been a couple months since that meeting, such a short time of them existing around each other, becoming nearly inseparable to the point of it being noticed. Tonight, they're hanging out in Arthur's flat, hunkered down to wait out a blizzard that's completely shut down campus. He's sprawled out across his sectional, and Merlin lounges on the other end, legs extended and tangled with his. They were watching a movie, at some point, but soon got too wrapped up in conversation to even remember what was playing.

And then the power goes out.

In the darkness, he hears Merlin groan, and he can picture the annoyance on his face. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone, long discarded on the coffee table, and switches on the flashlight, and it's almost entirely accidental that it's pointed square at Merlin when he does.

"Oi!" Merlin shouts, reaching over to yank the phone out of his hands. It's easy work to hold it up out of his reach, and he grins so wide as his eyes adjust and he's able to actually see that annoyed, unimpressed glare.

"Whoops," he offers, shrugging, and delights in the eye roll it gets him.

With a sigh, Merlin heaves himself up off the couch, shaking his head. "You're an arse."

"You love it. Hold tight, I'm pretty sure I've got some candles tucked away somewhere."

Sure enough, in a random drawer in his kitchen, there's a pack of candles he doesn't even remember buying. They're red and vaguely rose scented, not at all something he would buy, so Morgana is probably to blame, but at the moment, he doesn't exactly care. He pulls them out, shuts the drawer, and then just as he's turning, Merlin calls out from the next room.

"Hey, do you still have any of that Irish whisky from that party?"

"I mean, yes, probably! Why?"

"I don't know, we're trapped inside with the power out, a stiff drink sounds nice!"

Arthur rolls his eyes, but he does pull the bottle out of the cabinet on his way back to Merlin.

In the sitting room, Merlin's moved over to the fireplace, already getting a tiny flame started under a pile of kindling. It's impressive, watching him work, considering Arthur can barely make a spark, but Merlin's got a magic touch for it. Soon enough, the fire is roaring, and Arthur's got candles set out on the mantle, and they both settle in on the rug.

The bottle opens, and they don't have any glasses, but it doesn't matter, they simply pass it over in between sips. For all their chatter earlier, it feels right now to just sit, settle in the comfortable silence, just the two of them sharing the warmth of a fire (and a good drink).

Eventually, they've made it through half the bottle, and Arthur's not a lightweight by any means, but whisky always makes him a bit looser. He'd already started leaning up against Merlin about twenty minutes ago, so it's not long before he's given into the desire to be horizontal, legs stretched out as he rests his head in Merlin's lap.

It's Merlin who breaks the quiet, voice as soft as the way his hand idly combs through Arthur's hair. "Hey. Truth or dare?"

Arthur's got the bottle at the moment, mid-sip, and nearly snorts right into it. "No, no, we're not doing that."

"Why not?"

"Because last time we did drunk truth or dare, we both ended up in front of the honour council."

"That won't happen this time, I swear!"

"You know you can't promise that," Arthur insists, pointing the bottle up at him for emphasis. "You're a menace when you get enough in your system."

Merlin shoves him, not roughly, but hard enough that he rolls away, head dropping back onto the rug. It's unfortunate not to be in Merlin's lap anymore, but this way he can actually look up at him, take in the way the firelight dances across his face and makes the specks of gold in his eyes glimmer.

Those eyes settle onto him again as the bottle gets pulled from him. Merlin tips it up, takes a long swig, before setting it on the ground between them and leaning forward with determination. "Fine. Never Have I Ever."

Arthur watches him closely, can see how serious he is about this, and almost immediately gives in. "Okay, alright, fine. You go first, though."

"Happily. Never have I ever had a one night stand."

"Really?" Arthur quirks an eyebrow, can't quite believe it. "You've never?"

Merlin shrugs, unbothered. "Never seen the appeal. It takes me longer to feel that for somebody." He pauses, biting his lip, expression a bit more guarded than usual. "What about you?"

Right, the point of the game. He shakes his head, pushing the bottle closer to Merlin. "Honestly, I don't get it either. Isn't there a word for that? Feel like that came up once at a meeting."

"Demisexual," Merlin offers without missing a beat. "Someone who doesn't experience sexual attraction until they make a stronger connection with someone."

He nods slowly, feeling it out in his head. Even now, after letting himself take part in QA events, he's not quite been brave enough to look closer. It feels right, though, like it fits. He can only think of a handful of people he's actually wanted to do anything with, and they all follow the pattern.

He must be quiet for a little too long, doesn't even notice until Merlin pokes him gently. "Come on, it's your turn."

It goes on like that, trading questions back and forth, sharing stories, until they're down to the last sip, and it's Arthur's turn to ask. He looks across at Merlin, who's still got his eyes fixed on Arthur, focused and watching, always watching. It doesn't feel scary, though, being watched by him, not anymore. It feels right, safe, like if there's anyone who should get to see every part of him, it's Merlin.

It's still intense, though, so he shifts his gaze down to the bottle, to the tiny bit of whisky left. So much more of it is running in him, warming him from inside, and perhaps emboldening him. In the end, though, it's not the whisky that gives him the confidence to ask his question, but the warm certainty of Merlin's eyes on him.

"Never have I ever kissed a man."

In the silence that follows, he doesn't look up, can't make himself. He keeps his eyes fixed on the bottle, and when Merlin's hand pulls it up out of view, he just stares at the floor where it was. He can feel the shift of energy, feel how in just seven words something has changed, and he's got not a single clue what to do about it.

He listens close, though, waiting for the sound of Merlin draining the bottle, but it doesn't come. Instead, there's only the thunk of it being set on the floor away from them, and then Merlin is moving, shuffling forward to sit in front of him.

"Arthur? Could you sit up, please?"

The request is strange enough to make him actually look up, and he can't read anything in Merlin's expression, but he does it anyway, shakily pushes himself up and settles onto his heels. Once he does, Merlin starts to smile. It's small and simple, just a quirk of his lips really, but it settles the storm rolling in Arthur's gut.

"Great, thank you. Stop me anytime, alright?"

Before he can even begin to process that, Merlin's lips are on his, chapped and soft all at once. For a solid ten seconds, he's frozen, eyes wide as his brain tries to process this, to catch up with how he's even gotten here. It makes sense, though, and as the pieces fall into place, he realises he really does want this, has wanted it for months. Better than that, he can have it.

Just as Merlin starts to pull away, his own mouth gets with the program, and he chases after those lips, leaning forward to keep the contact. He lets himself touch, gets a hand up at Merlin's neck and pulls him back in, hungry for more.

When they break apart, he still holds Merlin close, unable to bear even a few inches of room. Foreheads pressed together, they both breathe raggedly into the scant space between them, and Arthur lets the moment drag, lets it all sink in.

"That was…"

"Yeah," Merlin rasps, and it's satisfying to hear that he's just as affected. After a second, Merlin does shift backwards, only pulling away enough to pick the bottle back up. "Last sip left, and you broke the rules. You definitely have ever kissed a man now."

He can't help but laugh weakly, and he takes the bottle from Merlin, knocking back the last bit of liquid. "That makes zero sense as a sentence."

"Give me a break. Finally kissing the man I've had a crush on for months is a bit mind-boggling."

"You-" He cuts himself off, not even sure where that sentence was going, but he can see in those eyes just how much he means it. "Merlin."

Lips quirk again, not quite a smile, but happy nonetheless. "Arthur," Merlin whispers back to him before closing the gap again.

They may be in the dark, lit only by flame, and their lips both taste of whisky, and still: A kiss has never once felt so right.

Chapter 3: penthouse room (honey, rinse and repeat)

Present Day

When Arthur gets up the next morning, he can't help but feel like he's waking up from some crazy dream. From running into Merlin to how easy it was to talk again, none of it feels real at all, but somehow it is.

He gets ready in a daze, replaying it all in his head as he showers, and shaves, and dresses, until somehow he's heading out the door, briefcase in hand, and he barely remembers doing any of it.

"Get it together," he mutters to himself, giving his head a shake. Today is not the day for him to be distracted, he needs to get his head in the game. He needs a bloody reality check.

And, well, who better for that than his sister?

"Whatever Leon's told you is a lie, I promise I didn't actually threaten Mordred," she blurts out as soon as she picks up, and he can't hold back the sigh.

"As a matter of fact, Leon hasn't told me anything. Should he have?"

"…No?"

"Morgana. What did you do?"

She's the one to sigh now, though it's distinctly more defeated. "I am serious, I didn't threaten him. I just… might have said he has the face of a rat and that he acts like one too?"

"Okay, er," he pauses, thinking about it for longer than he really should. "Right, you're not entirely wrong, and I can't stand him either. But let's avoid outright insults, yes? This case, it's-"

"Too important to take risks on, I know. I'll avoid calling him a rat to his face from now on. So, since you weren't calling me to chew me out, why are you? Has something happened at the conference?"

He's reached the lobby at this point, and he pauses as he looks at the place where, just yesterday, his entire world had shifted. "Not exactly? The conference was actually quite nice yesterday, met some pretty cool people, all that good stuff. Afterwards, though, I, er… I ran into Merlin."

On the other end of the phone, Morgana goes silent, the only audible thing her coffee maker running in the background for a good 10 seconds before she actually says something.

"That's… wow, alright. How did that go? How are we feeling about it?"

"Weirdly, it went really well? Aside from the fact I say "ran into" quite literally."

"Oh! Reuniting with your lost love the same way you first met, it's so storybook!"

Morgana sounds far too delighted at the prospect, and he tells her so. "In fact, it was somehow even more embarrassing the second time round. But he was, like, actually happy to see me? Which is definitely not what I expected."

"Hmm, well, seems like a good thing, no? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever."

"Right, yeah, sure, Morgs, I just. I can't get him out of my head, now. I'm too distracted, especially for today. How am I supposed to go up there and give this presentation when all I can think about is Merlin bloody Emrys?"

"Ahh, yes. I always wondered how you made it through the rest of your classes once the two of you got together, you were always rather… distracted."

He groans loudly enough that three people on the pavement look up. "I was surviving off of compartmentalization and a prayer."

"Well, I'd get to praying, then," Morgana says, sounding like she's barely holding back laughter. "I've gotta go, Ms. Lichon's meeting me at the office in an hour. You'll be fine, Arthur, I promise. Go kill this presentation, and then you can go back to your hotel and be as much of a gay disaster as you want."

"Oi! I'm not a disaster!"

Morgana doesn't even reply, finally letting out her laughter as she hangs up the phone, leaving Arthur definitely not pouting at his.

Infuriatingly, she's not wrong.

---

It's inordinately difficult, but once the day gets going, he does manage to focus on the conference.

Mostly.

He'd be lying if he said his mind didn't wander, usually replaying their meeting in head over and over, sometimes fantasizing about what seeing him again will be like. And, in a few quiet moments, some less appropriate thoughts.

Visions of Merlin, his neck, those lips, play in his head, still crystal clear even ten years later. Nothing has ever rivalled the way Merlin touched him, awoke desires he didn't even know he could have, and that was back in uni, when they were young and inexperienced. Lord even knows what it could be like now, after all that time to grow and practice—how much better it might be now, after all this time.

He's getting ahead of himself, though. It's crazy enough that Merlin wants to get dinner with him, he'd be mental to even hope for anything more than that. Still, the idea persists, and on many occasions through the day, he's immensely grateful for tablecloths.

The panels and presentations continue, one by one, most of them at least slightly interesting, but eventually, he has the misfortune of having to sit through a talk led by Cenred. When he glances around the room, just about everyone looks as exhausted as he feels, not a soul interested in the man's old school law views.

Eventually, he caves to the boredom, pulls his phone out under the table and idly switches through texting, news, and that stupid match three game he's become obsessed with. It's good fun, simple distraction, until suddenly several texts come through that make him choke.

hi i hope day two of conference is going well

i for one am stuck in line at ginas cause i
forgot about their saturday lunch deal

and everyone and their bloody mother is here

also this is merlin btw

really hope you havent changed your number

Arthur stares down at his phone, frozen and not sure what to do. Merlin is texting him, actually starting a conversation, and it strikes him that he must have kept Arthur's number saved all this time.

please put me out of my misery and text me back

This is Arthur, can't believe you still have my number.

Or that you still text like this, haven't you heard of punctuation?

shut up, you prat

proper grammar is for my published works

or boring barristers

It's all he can do to bite back a laugh, though he does smile like an idiot. Somehow, it's still the same, their banter flowing so easily, bringing him right back to lunch picnics by the castle.

I'm stuck in one of the most boring, infuriating talks I've ever heard.

Do you remember Cenred from my mock trial team?

…

unfortunately yes

don't tell me he's there

As you say, unfortunately, yes.

His whole talk is about the importance of tradition in the legal field,
and if he makes one more comment about "firms with destructively
progressive missions," I may just scream.

gross

and 100 percent targeted at you i assume

Got it in one.

The best part? My talk is right after his, and
I can't help but feel that was intentional.

again. gross.

can i fight him? ill come to the conference and fight him for you

You want to defend my honour? How romantic, I'm swooning.

The moment he hits send on the message, panic sets in. His mind races, running through all forms of scenario in which Merlin is offended, is upset, because flirting is definitely a line he shouldn't cross. His fingers fly over the screen, typing out an apology as fast as he possibly can, but then a response comes in before he can even finish.

Any time, your majesty. <3

In his head, Arthur is slamming his face into a pillow and screaming, but outwardly, he forces himself to bite his lip and stare straight ahead as if nothing had happened.

He just may die at the hands, or words, of Merlin fucking Emrys.

---

They don't stop texting until Cenred's talk is over, something Arthur doesn't even notice until the room goes eerily silent. Glancing up, he sees that Cenred, finally done rambling on, has opened the room to questions, and there are none. Not a single hand in the entire room, half the attendees staring blankly and the other half avoiding eye contact.

I do take pleasure in how almost everyone hates Cenred as much as us.

NO ONE can hate him more than us

they know him as a shit lawyer

but WE experienced him in uni

soo, youre up to present next. how do you feel?

Excited. Terrified. Slightly nauseous.

You know how I am about public speaking.

oh yeah, i remember

Arthur Pendragon: can argue with the best of them,
but don't dare ask him to write a speech.

Ha ha, laugh it up.

Nobody will be laughing if I lose my lunch halfway through.

youre gonna do great, Arthur, i know it

just breathe, take it beat by beat…

…and remember it'll be over in no time.

The quintessential Merlin Emrys pep talk.

Right, I have to prep, I go on in fifteen, but thank you.

Seriously.

---

When it comes time to step on the stage, he's still got Merlin on his mind, but this time it's a boon rather than a curse. It's the thought of his support, of his seemingly unshakable belief in Arthur in this, that carries him through, making him feel more at ease in front of the audience than he has ever felt. He simply keeps thinking of Merlin, imagines him being out there somewhere, and wonders if he'd be happy with what he heard.

In a wonderful contrast to Cenred's painfully awkward ending, Arthur's Q&A session is booming, one question sparking another and another. By the time the organizers step in to call the end, they've gone twenty minutes over into lunch and nearly half the room as had part in the conversation.

He walks off the stage grinning like crazy, on cloud nine and sure that there's no way it could be better than this.

And then he turns the corner and Merlin is standing there, leaning against a wall as if his being there makes all the sense in the world.

"Well, you absolutely killed it up there."

"I- Merlin?"

"Yes, very observational, great job. Close your mouth before you catch a fly."

Arthur stares for a moment, admittedly, mouth agape. His brain takes about ten seconds to catch up and process Merlin not just being there, but apparently having seen his presentation. Once it settles, though, there's only one thing he can even think to do.

He rushes forward and yanks Merlin into a hug.

There's no time to even overthink the decision, Merlin embracing him back instantly, and it's a wondrous thing. Merlin's shoulders are shaking with laughter, joyous and infectious, and Arthur grins even brighter where his face is tucked into Merlin's neck.

When he does eventually pull away, he still keeps Merlin within arms reach. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"I have my ways," Merlin offers with a wink. "Seriously, though, you did amazing! I knew there were a lot of changes happening with Pendragon Law, but I had no clue just how much you've been up to."

"Wait, have you been keeping up with the firm?"

He shrugs. "Only the last six months or so? I heard through the grapevine about you taking over, started paying attention to the news. I was curious!"

Arthur stares for another long moment, not entirely sure what to do with how fast his heart has started to beat. Frankly, he's a little concerned Merlin will be able to hear it with how hard it's slamming around in his chest.

"I don't… Merlin, you've no idea how much-"

"Mr. Pendragon!"

They both whip around, glancing down the hall where a man who looks vaguely familiar is waving at them.

Merlin gives him a gentle shove. "Go on, your adoring public awaits. Text me when you're back at your hotel, we'll go celebrate over dinner."

He hesitates, torn between knowing he needs to go mingle and wanting to keep Merlin as close as possible. But then the man down the hall calls out again, and Merlin makes the decision for him, taking a few steps back and disappearing down the hall with a wave.

"Good god," he mutters under his breath, and then shakes himself out and makes his way back to the crowd.

---

The rest of the day flies by in an absolute blur. After lunch, it's almost all networking events, snacks and drinks all over the place. At some point, he completely runs out of his business cards and has to just start giving people the company info email. He more than replaces them all, though, with all the cards he gets from other professionals, all excited to talk with him more about the "miraculous reform of Pendragon Law."

He finally drags back into the hotel room at half eight, physically exhausted but running on adrenaline, or more than that, excitement. He's already texted Merlin, and he's got just enough time to go upstairs and change for dinner.

Which, of course, is proving far more difficult than it should.

He just has zero clue what to wear. It feels ridiculous to have dinner with Merlin in his three-piece, but suits and pyjamas are all he's packed. He'll be dead before he actually asks Morgana for fashion advice, because she'll be entirely correct as she ruthlessly makes fun of him.

It doesn't help when he gets another text from Merlin, this time with a photo, of him looking absolutely devastating in a fitted jumper, his curls just messy enough to drive Arthur insane. He wants, yearns, which is, again, insane, but the way Merlin's texting has him questioning it all.

ill be the one in the blue, cant wait to see you

There's nothing inherently suggestive about it, but he knows Merlin and the way he flirts, and it's making him think that maybe this time isn't so different as back in uni. Unfortunately, it makes him want to impress Merlin even more, in ways he doesn't even know how.

In an act of desperation, he throws open his weekender, as if there'll be anything in there other than what he packed. But somehow, like a divine intervention, tucked in the bottom is the red shirt with the lace-up front that used to be one of Merlin's favourites.

Pairing it with dress pants works well enough, and then the blazer over top, and when he looks in the mirror he feels at least half as attractive as Merlin looks in that bloody photo. A photo that almost definitely doesn't do justice to how good he's going to look in person, something Arthur is already desperately trying to steel himself for.

He doesn't succeed.

He's only a few steps into the lobby when he sees him, spots that jumper that's stretched across his shoulders like it was sewn onto him. Merlin turns and spots him when he's about halfway across the room, and when he smiles it's so bright and warm it nearly knocks Arthur to his knees.

"Tell me," Merlin drawls as soon as Arthur's at his side, "Just how hard was it to find an outfit that's not a full suit?"

This man knows him too well. "You still read me too well, somehow, gods. I was saved by a prior lack of unpacking, found this in the bottom." He unbuttons his blazer, let's it hang open enough to reveal his shirt. "Is it appropriately casual for your tastes?"

Merlin's gaze flicks down, and for a moment, he actually looks a bit shellshocked, pupils dilating with what Arthur so badly wants to be desire. He recovers quickly, though, and in just a few seconds, he's looking back up and grinning.

"You did alright. Not that it takes much to make you look good." He winks, actually winks, and now Arthur's the one on the back foot. Before he can begin to recover, Merlin's pushing off the wall he'd been leaning on and striding towards the restaurant. "Come one, I've got us a reservation!"

Once Arthur kicks into gear and follows, they get ushered to a table almost immediately, tucked away in a candle-lit corner booth. The atmosphere is undeniable, made all the more intense by the way Merlin keeps looking at him like he's supposed to know what all this means. He's certainly got ideas, but he still can't quite bring himself to believe them.

"Drinks?" Merlin offers the specials list across the table. "They've got an old classic of ours."

He raises an eyebrow, but Merlin just smiles and shrugs, so he looks down. There, halfway down the list, an aged Irish whisky

"Oh. Well, I mean…" he trails off, the sentence going nowhere as his mind reels. He remembers uni, how a bottle of Irish whisky always meant something more, and he's sure Merlin remembers too. The look in his eyes definitely gives the impression he does, but there's a question in them, one Arthur wants so badly to give the right answer to. But if this night is going to go how it seems, he's going to do it with a clear head.

"I'm honestly not much of a drinker these days?" Across the table, Merlin's face drops, a small shift but enough to notice, and Arthur scrambles to keep on. "Hard liquor, that is! But, I mean, maybe we could share some wine? If you'd like?"

It feels like he can't breathe for a moment while Merlin looks at him, eyes boring into Arthur's until, like some divine miracle, he smiles again, grabbing the menu back and setting it down to the side.

"Wine it is."

Wine comes and flows, a fine red with a price tag Merlin fights him over and inevitably loses. Those crystal eyes roll, of course, but the small smile when Arthur requests a bottle is proof he's not truly upset. They fall into conversation as easily as ever, and it's a beautiful thing to know that the time apart has made no real difference. They're older, smoother around the edges, lacking the harsh bite of youth, but they're still them. Still Arthur and Merlin.

At first, it's just updates on their mutual friends, swapping a story of Gwen and Lance's wedding to be regaled with how Gwaine crashed a stag night and somehow ended up a groomsman. Eventually, it shifts, and Arthur finally gets to hear about Merlin's life, all the things he's wondered about for ten years.

"-and so, there I am, barely keeping it together while this idiot blathers on, and then Gaius, right? He just stares him down and does that eyebrow thing, do you remember the eyebrow thing?"

"Of course I remember the eyebrow thing!"

"Yeah, well, one eyebrow thing later, this guy finally goes quiet, grabs a pen, and signs off on his own termination letter! And his office? Cleared out within the hour."

"Bloody hell," Arthur laughs as he sets down his glass. "Gaius actually eyebrow-ed your way to the corner office."

Merlin grins, self-satisfied and taking another sip of his wine. They've emptied the bottle by now, plates clean and stacked between them long ago. "Honestly, I think he did it because it's closer to his, so he could catch me out easier if I was staying on campus too long."

Arthur pictures it, Merlin hunched at his desk like he would in uni, this time grading papers instead of writing them, and it's a little too similar to how he's spent his own nights. "I've got the same problem. I'm 90 percent sure Morgana has hidden cameras to check if I'm in my office past the sun."

"Ah, so you're still overworking yourself, then? I'd thought that might change without Uther pushing you so much."

"I have to," he says simply. "The firm, what I've been trying to do with it since I took over… it means too much to me. I have an opportunity here to right so many of my father's wrongs, and I've got to take that seriously."

Across the table, Merlin looks caught between a smile and a frown. "Very noble. But does that have to mean running yourself into the ground?"

He stares down into his glass of wine, biting his lip as he thinks. "It's not as bad as it seems, I'm still resting and eating and all that, Leon makes sure of it. And, honestly, I'm nearly the happiest I've ever been. "

"Nearly the happiest?" Merlin cocks his head to the side when Arthur looks up. A curl flops out of place, down into his eyes. Arthur's fingers itch to reach out and fix it.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm proud of the work I'm doing. It's hard, yes, but it's good work, and I actually enjoy it."

"So, then, what's missing?"

You, Arthur thinks, and fights not to just blurt it out. How in the world is he supposed to say that, to admit how every day he wakes up wishing Merlin was next to him. How he eats lunch at a table with his closest friends, but keeps looking at the empty chair and knowing who should be sitting there. How, when he gets home to his oversized flat, he envisions Merlin greeting him alongside Cavall.

Like a miracle, their waiter saves him from saying all the words he can't find, their check placed rather pointedly on the table. Him and Merlin both look out to find the restaurant deserted, only a few staff left idling, waiting for their last clients to get the hell out.

"I rather think we've overstayed our welcome."

Merlin snorts out a laugh while Arthur signs off on the bill. Reluctantly, they slide out of the booth, gather jackets and wander back into the main lobby. The silence builds, tension thick as they come to a stop in front of the lifts.

"Arthur-"

"So-"

They both stop, their words jumbled from overlapping, and it takes away some of the tightness, but he can still feel all the words unsaid. Words that truly need to be said.

"You go first," Merlin offers, giving him a soft smile.

Well, he thinks, here we go.

"Don't go home, not yet. My suite is, er, far too empty without the team here."

The smile widens, and Merlin hits the call button for the lift at the same time he grabs Arthur's hand. "I thought you'd never ask."

Chapter 4: nothing compares (window to a perfect deja vu)

Notes:

Welcome to the end of the main story!! I can't believe that I actually did this, actually finished this insane little obsessive brain child of mine.

I've got a short little epilogue coming later this week to wrap things up in a sweet, domestic bliss bow for our boys. AND, as some of you may noticed, this work has also been connected to a series that I am affectionately referring to as DVEU (the Deja Vu Expanded Universe). The song that inspired this comes off an album that has just been chock-full of inspiration, and I've already got soft ideas and outlines for three other fics. One will be Arthur and Merlin, and then there's some plans for some of the other highlighted cast I've created here.

If you wanna take a listen to the song that started this all, check it out here.

And also, a huge, massive thanks to my awesome friend, thesongistheriver who screamed about this with me and enabled the chaos.

Okay, that's it for me rambling, enjoy the end of the (main) story, and I look forward to seeing all of you again for everything to come!

Merlin's still holding Arthur's hand when they make it into his room, and though it's the only point of contact between them, it feels like it's everything.

They walk in and Merlin whistles as he looks around. "So this is how the other side lives, then?"

"It comes out of the firm's account, which is still stocked from Uther's time. Believe me, if I'd been booking… this isn't what I'd choose."

"Why the hell not?" Merlin looks at him incredulously. "I mean, god, just look at that view from the balcony. I'm not sure I've ever seen Cardiff from this high up…"

He lets Merlin guide them towards the balcony easily, never once letting go of his hand, nor looking away from him. "It is beautiful."

His voice must betray him, for Merlin turns, looking into his eyes intently. "It's not the only beautiful thing."

Arthur's heart stops beating for a second at the words, and he can't help but squeeze a bit tighter around Merlin's hand.

"Merlin, I… gods, I don't want to presume, but is this…"

Merlin takes a step closer, so close that if he were to breathe too hard, their chests could even touch. "Please, Arthur, presume all you want."

It's tempting, so tempting, and his eyes flicker down to Merlin's lips, and they're right there. He even starts to lean in, his heart beating faster and faster, but his mind is reeling too.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out without thinking. Merlin's eyes widen, brows furrowing, and he goes to speak but Arthur keeps talking. "Christ, Merlin, I don't know how to express how sorry I am for what I did, how I hurt you."

"Arthur, stop, you don't have to-"

"But I do." He forces out a breath, and takes Merlin's other hand, holds them both like a lifeline. "And I want this, want you, so much, but I couldn't live with myself if I were to have it without telling you."

Merlin, for what's probably seconds but feels like hours, just looks at him with the softest smile. Finally, he responds. "Thank you, Arthur. But I forgave you ages ago."

It feels like a thousand tons has lifted off his chest, to hear those words, things he never thought he would hear. He believes it, too. There's no way to look into Merlin's eyes and not believe it, because one thing's for sure, Merlin has only ever said exactly what he means.

"Now," Merlin continues, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Will you just kiss me already, Pendragon?"

With apologies and confessions out of the way, there's truly nothing left to say, so he does as asked, and finally, everything is right.

---

Ten years ago

"I can't believe you're actually doing this!"

Arthur doesn't look up, keeps his eyes fixed on the mess of clothes in front of him. When in the world did he acquire so many bloody jumpers?

"Arthur? Arthur! Oh, for the love of God, stop packing and fucking look at me!"

"What do you want from me?!" He snaps, though he still doesn't look up. He can't bring himself to, knows he wouldn't survive seeing the tears he can hear in Merlin's voice.

"What do I want from you?" He sounds incredulous, like it's the stupidest question on the planet. Arthur supposes it probably is. "God, where do I even start? I want you to stop being an idiot, I want you to actually talk to me, hell, I want you to try being honest about what you want for once in your fucking life!"

He spins around, but he still doesn't look at Merlin, just pushes past him to grab another stack of shirts from his closet."What if this is what I want? Hm?"

"Then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought!"

"How, pray tell, is this me being an idiot? Tell me, Merlin, how exactly it's stupid for me to take the opportunity that's actually likely to have me succeed!"

"Success isn't going to mean a thing if you're unhappy, Arthur, and we both know that working with your sad excuse for a father is far from joy inducing. You can't tell me that you actually want to waste away in a corporate, soul-sucking life!"

Arthur bristles, clenching his hands into fists and shaking his head to dismiss what he knows is the truth. "We can't all be moronically idealistic, alright? I want to be a lawyer, that's what I've been working towards for years, and I'm not going to put that at risk."

Merlin's groan borders on a scream. "What makes this a risk? Dean and Nielsen isn't some wannabe startup like your dad thinks, they're solid, they're established, and they have an actual mission, real values! I thought you actually wanted to help people, not just put more money in the pockets of corrupt businessmen!"

"I want to do what's right!" He can't admit that he's got no idea what that even is. "And my father may be an arse, but he's still my father, and what's right is to keep up the legacy. He'll have to step down eventually, and then Pendragon Law is going to need a Pendragon at the helm! What kind of son would I be if I left that legacy to die?"

"I don't give a shit what kind of son you are, Arthur, I care about the man you are."

The words hit him like a ton of bricks, sinking down into his skin and his very soul. What kind of man is he? What sort of person would do this, would hurt someone as good as Merlin the way he is right now?

"Arthur, please." When Merlin speaks again, it sounds like the fight has left him, his words soft and desperate. "You don't have to do this. You could stay, here, with me. Build a life with me."

Silence drags, filling the room like a cloud, thick enough to make Arthur choke. Tears start to well up, so he keeps his head down, back turned against all the things he wants but knows he can't have.

"It's not the life I want," he lies, and it hurts coming out of his mouth. "Please just accept that."

The sound of Merlin crying echoes in his ears long after the door slams closed behind him.

---

Present day

Reminder: Your train from Cardiff Central to London Paddington departs at 06:45 today. Thank you for travelling with Great Western Railway.

Arthur glares down at his phone screen, currently the only source of light in the room. It's still dark out, not even a hint of the sunrise from behind the Cardiff skyline.

Outside, there's the gentle sounds of parts of the city waking up, the early risers even on a Sunday. Which, Arthur supposes, he's a part of as well.

In the penthouse, though, it's quiet and still. A few minutes ago, he'd been able to hear Merlin snoring in the next room, but even that's petered out, a sure sign that he's soon to wake.

He should go back in there, slide back into bed with Merlin, enjoy what time he's got left with him, but levity is proving hard to find. That damned GWR alert on his phone taunts him, forces to front of mind the absolutely impossible decision he knows he needs to make.

Distantly, he hears shifting, blankets rustling, and his phone screen goes back to black just as the bedroom door opens.

"Why in the world are you awake?" Merlin's sleepy voice is kind of unbearably cute, actually. He'd somehow forgotten that, over the years, but it hits him just as hard.

He doesn't respond at first, just opens up a space for him on the sofa, and lets out a content sigh when Merlin snuggles up against his side. It feels right.

Merlin's apparently not content to just sit, though, and it's not long before he's poking Arthur in the side. "I can practically hear the cogs in your brain turning. Come on, what's wrong?"

What he would give to just brush it off, ignore the issue, but he can't do that to Merlin. So, though it absolutely pains him, he taps at his phone, lets the reminder fill the screen, and glares down at it as if that'll change things.

Beside him, Merlin goes still, except for the way his hand clenches a little tighter to Arthur's shirt. In response, Arthur drags him in closer, nearly crushing him to his chest with the absolute need to keep him close.

The glow from his phone is bright white, but hardly feels angelic, more like a damnation, like he's being reproached for daring to think he could have this. For a short time, just a few days, he's believed it, and now the universe has decided to rip it away from him again.

Eventually, Merlin does move, adjusting so Arthur can see his face. He speaks softly, pulling Arthur out of his dreadful spiral. "Arthur, it's alright. You have to go back, I understand, and anyway, I'm-"

"What if I don't?" He blurts it out, and it takes even him by surprise. However, unintentional as they may be, he finds he does really mean them. "Maybe I don't have to go, maybe I can stay here, stay with you."

"You can't, Arthur. You've worked too hard making Pendragon Law what it is to just abandon it!"

He shakes his head, and finds words coming easier, rushing up so insistently it makes him nauseous. "Morgana and Leon, all of them, they can handle the firm. I want-"

"Stop, Arthur, listen to me-"

"No, you listen!" It's harsher than he should be, and he presses his lips to the top of Merlin's head in apology, but he keeps on.

"Look. Merlin, I have made a lot of idiotic decisions in my life. I've more regrets than there are castles in the whole bloody country, but to this day, there is nothing I regret more than what I did to you.

"Leaving you that day was the worst idea of my life, and I have spent nearly every day since regretting it, wishing that I could go back and change what happened. I've missed you, wanted to have you back for ten years now, all while knowing I'm to blame for not being able to have you. I even accepted it, eventually, realised that we left it all behind and there was no going back. And then now, this weekend…

"Somehow, we're fine, slipping back into this life again, and I'll be damned if I let you go. I want to stay this time, Merlin."

He pauses to breathe, somehow having made it through all of that without doing so. There's more to say, he can feel it all bubbling up, but before he can even open his mouth again, Merlin’s lips are on his, insistently. It doesn't last long, barely long enough for Arthur to process it, and then Merlin’s sitting back looking annoyed yet fond.

"I forgot how hard it is to shut you up once you get going."

"Hey! I'm trying to-"

"Nope!" Merlin cuts him off with a finger to his lips. "It's my turn to talk now. So, fun fact, I'm moving to London."

Arthur blanches, stares back at Merlin in silence for what is probably several seconds too long, but in his defence, he is pretty shocked. "Sorry. What?"

He gets an eye roll in response. "The main folklore prof at Goldsmiths is retiring, and he wants me as his replacement. I start at the end of the month."

"Wait, so you… so you'll be in London?" Arthur's still in shock, the idea of Merlin in London taking its sweet time to settle. He's pretty sure his mouth has fallen agape, throat stuck on all the words he'd been ready to say but suddenly can't find.

"Yes, for good. I'm actually going down on Wednesday to look at flats." Merlin's hands come to his face, so soft it nearly makes him sob. "This is real, Arthur, this is happening. We could actually do this."

Arthur doesn't know what to say. His mind is racing, a million possibilities running through his mind. He could have Merlin at his side in the morning, have Merlin at the table at lunch, have Merlin with Cavall at the end of the day.

Suddenly, he knows exactly the words. He reaches up, takes one of Merlin's hands and holds it tight. "Don't go looking for flats. Live with me."

"Arthur, that's-"

"Don't say it's a crazy idea, because I know it is and I don't care. I've spent so long missing you, wanting to see you every damn day, and you just being in London won't be enough for me. I want to wake up with you every morning and come home to you every single night. Please."

Merlin's eyes are wide, but he's smiling, and then he's leaning in, lips pressing to Arthur's again. Arthur holds him tight, has to, and once they finally part, he's smiling too, even as tears start to well up unbidden.

Looking into Merlin's eyes, he feels at peace for the first time in ten years, the weight of a thousand unsaid things finally lifted from his chest. There's still one thing left to say, though, three words he can't keep in for a moment longer.

"I love you."

Tears crop up in Merlin's eyes now, too, though his smile grows even wider. "I love you, too."

Outside the window, the sun rises. Somewhere in the city, a train pulls off on its way to London. But there, in that penthouse suite, none of that matters, because Arthur has his Merlin again, and this time, he's never letting go.

Chapter 5: lay in the morning light (how is this real life?)

One year later

"Merlin!" Arthur calls out as soon as he gets through the front door, as eager to see him as ever. "Are you home?"

There's no response, but as Arthur looks around, he can see the proof of Merlin's presence everywhere. His briefcase has been abandoned on the kitchen island, a used tea bag left on a paper towel, and the faint music coming from the study.

Immediately, he's excited. Merlin, for all his clumsiness, is remarkably hard to surprise, but if he hasn't heard Arthur yet, he may just have a chance. He moves quietly, even slipping off his shoes so he can basically slide across the tile.

When he reaches the study, the door is ajar, so he pushes it open just enough to look through and see Merlin. He's sitting on the floor, his back turned, and surrounded by stacks of papers. His head is bopping along to the music even as he works, and that, combined with how frizzy his hair is from running his hands through it, is nearly too adorable to handle. Next to him, Cavall is sprawled out on top of some papers, fast asleep without a care for how Merlin keeps trying to tug them out from under him.

He indulges for a few minutes in just watching, relishing in the fact that this is his life now. He can hardly believe it some days, and today, exactly a year since he managed to get Merlin back, it feels even more surreal.

Eventually, though, he does get bored of simply watching Merlin, as beautiful as the man is. He approaches, grabbing the speaker from where it sits at Merlin's side and pausing it. For a good ten seconds, Merlin doesn't even seem to notice, engrossed in what he's reading, until the lack of sound finally processes. He turns to investigate, but Arthur manages to capture his lips in a kiss the second that infuriatingly pretty face is close enough.

"Art-" Merlin tries to interrupt when they pause for breath, but Arthur just presses another firm kiss to shut him up.

"Just how long have you been staring at these papers?"

Merlin pauses, biting his lip, and this close, it's easy to see the look in his eyes that says how do I convince him? "An hour, maybe two?"

Arthur hums and glances around without moving his head away. There's a long-cold mug of tea on the edge of the circle of papers, and Merlin's glasses sit next to them unused. "I believe you texted me about making tea around half one, which would make that cup…"

"Five hours old," Merlin grumbles with a sigh, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Arthur's. "I got in a hole with the manuscript, I couldn't stop."

His heart twists hearing the tiredness in Merlin's voice. He's been working almost nonstop on this manuscript, a collection of analyses of historical Welsh literature. Tough the deadline is still far off, days of hyperfixation have become more and more common, but five hours is a new depth.

"Come on," he whispers, carding his fingers through Merlin's hair with some light scalp scratching. "Let's get you some water and something to eat. I brought home takeaway."

They get up off the floor, though Arthur is loathe to let go now that he's touching him again. He keeps his hand at Merlin's neck, a gentle way to steer him out and towards the kitchen but massage the tense muscle he can feel underneath. "I feel like every day the knots in your neck get worse."

"Maybe you need to give me a massage more often," Merlin, though soft and slightly melty under the touch, still manages his ever present teasing snark.

"I'd give you a massage every night for the rest of our lives, you dolt." He means it, too, even as he shoves Merlin onto the sofa and presses a takeaway box into his hands.

He grabs his own and assumes his usual position: leaning against the opposite arm and tangling their legs together beyond any possibility of extraction. He wiggles his toes in under Merlin's arse, grinning at the look Merlin gives him.

"So," Merlin starts once he's inhaled half of his fried rice. "Today was decision day for the Lichon case."

Arthur lets out a slow breath as the chaos of the day replays in his mind. He can still see Ms. Lichon's face, the anticipation and stress followed by joy and relief, and the way she hugged him outside the courthouse gave him a high he'll be riding on for weeks.

"We won. Christ, Merlin, we actually did it. She's getting full compensation for everything, and we were able to secure court-mandated changes in the company's procedures."

Merlin’s face lights up, and before Arthur can really process it, he's shoving aside their food and setting himself right in Arthur's lap. "That's so amazing, Arthur!" His hands cup Arthur's face, dragging him in for an intense kiss. "I'm so proud of you."

Arthur's heartbeat races, the weight of Merlin's praise hitting him just as hard as ever. Somehow, it doesn't matter how long or how often he hears it, it still feels like the ultimate benediction.

"I love you," he says, because how could he feel or think of anything else when he looks at Merlin? "I've not forgotten what today is, you know, and god, the last year has meant so much to me, because-"

"Trust me, I understand." With that soft, loving smile of his, Merlin takes one of Arthur's hands and brings it to his heart, where Arthur can feel a heartbeat that matches his own. "This year has been the absolute best year of my life, I wouldn't trade my life with you for the world. I want this forever."

"If you don't stop saying things so sweet, I may just die of a heart attack."

It's the truth, considering how his chest seems to feel tight every time Merlin goes on being this loving and genuine.

The way the man's lips quirk doesn't exactly help either. "Is that so? Maybe I shouldn't go on with my plans for the night, then?"

"Plans?"

"Hmm, yes, plans. I figured I'd let you in on them after we ate, but maybe not. Would hate for you heart to give out."

Though his eyes say mischief and his grin is undeniably teasing, he extricates himself from the couch anyway, and Arthur watches, hooked, as he goes to his briefcase and starts to rifle through it.

And then he turns around with a little black box in his hands, and Arthur's heart actually does stop.

"I've been waiting for the right moment to ask," he says, getting straight to the point, not that it helps Arthur feel less like he's in a dream. "I wanted the moment to be special, and I thought about making some show of a fancy dinner, but, well. That's not our life, is it? No, it's takeaway on the couch when we're both too tired to cook. It's you pulling me out of a research hole and lecturing me about my glasses, or me dragging you home from the office at half eleven, or all of it in reverse. I mean it, too, Arthur, when I say I would happily live this life with you forever. So, if you'd be so inclined…"

And then, god, and then, he's down on one knee in front of the couch, opening the box, and Arthur only realizes he's crying when the tears welling up make it hard to see the ring that's now in front of him.

Merlin’s still talking, somehow, but Artbur can't hear anymore of it, can't wait any longer without showing Merlin just how he feels, so he surges forward to grab his face and kiss him, trying to put every ounce of desperate love into it. Somewhere in the mix of it all, he starts whispering yes right into Merlin's mouth, and then there's tears in Merlin's eyes too, and it feels right. They were always destined to be a mess, so long as they were a mess together.

Later, when they've settled down, and Arthur can't stop looking at the ring on his finger, but neither can Merlin, he wonders, how is this real life? Somehow, some way, he's managed to find a life full of everything he's ever wanted, and at the core of it is Merlin. It's a strange sense of deja vu, having him here in his life again, but better and stronger than ever before, and it feels like fresh air and sunlight, like a revelation that will change everything for the rest of his life.

Looking at Merlin, though, he knows he's ready.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of deja vu (the extended world)