Archive of Our Own

Elyan poured cold water over his head. Once he refilled his waterskin, he slumped on the bench beside Merlin. 

“You alright?” Merlin asked. 

Lancelot had just kicked Elyan’s arse in training. Lancelot kicked most of their arses in training these days, but today was worse because Elyan was distracted. “Has swordfighting always been this homoerotic and I just never noticed?”

Merlin laughed. “It’s kind of famous for that, actually.” They gave Elyan a physician’s look, studious and considering. “The hormones aren’t causing any distress, are they? Because if they are, we can make adjustments.”

Elyan shook his head. “No distress. Just…sexual frustration.” 

Lancelot had ended their sparring session with the tip of his sword to Elyan’s throat, and Elyan was pretty sure he’d never been so turned on in his life. Lancelot, of course, being the noble bastard he was, didn’t even blink an eye as he reached out to help Elyan to his feet. 

Elyan gave the water bucket a considering glance, wondering if more cold water could be the solution to his current dilemma. 

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked. “Because when Gwaine first started, the changes to his libido gave him a month-long anxiety attack, and he didn’t start feeling better until we switched up his potions.”

“I’m fine, Merlin. Really.” It was good to know there were options besides just stopping T if things did get bad, but six months into his treatment, Elyan was grateful to find that pretty much all the changes he’d experienced were good ones. Even this latest development--as annoying as it currently was--felt...good. Right. Like progress.

Before starting hormones, Elyan was so uncomfortable with his own body that he couldn’t even masturbate without feeling sick. Sex with other people was worse, like his dysphoria was being reflected back at him through their eyes. For a while, Elyan considered the possibility that maybe he was asexual like Gwaine because the limited sexual attraction he’d experienced was so muddled by his complicated gender feelings that it didn’t feel like it belonged to him. 

Being ace would have been fine and good, except that the label never fit quite right. Now that Elyan was on T, he understood why. The pieces of himself that used to feel disparate were finally congruent, and sexual attraction felt fun and exciting rather than like a curse. Being able to have casual sex with Merlin and to fantasize about Lancelot pinning Elyan to the ground and having his way with him seemed like growth, honestly--even if that was weird enough to think about that he didn’t plan on sharing it with anyone.

“I’d offer my assistance,” Merlin said with a grin, “except Gwaine and I are still trying to win that bet.”

“Still?” Elyan hadn’t thought they’d make it more than 24 hours. 

Three days ago, Arthur called Merlin a slut, and Gwaine defended Merlin’s honor by saying, Merlin is perfectly capable of being monogamous. But why would they want to when polyamory is so much more fun? Arthur told the two of them he’d believe it when he saw it, and Merlin’s backtalking mouth just had to bet Arthur that they and Gwaine could be monogamous for a week. Elyan didn’t know what perks were awaiting the winner, but it must have been impressive to make Merlin and Gwaine stick to it. Although maybe proving Arthur wrong was reward enough. 

“I don’t know how anyone does this,” Merlin said. “There are all these rules that make absolutely no sense. Did you know there’s something called ‘emotional cheating’? Mary, who works in the kitchens, tried to explain it to me yesterday, and I still don’t get it. What’s the difference between that and just...having friends?"

Elyan couldn’t help but smile at the wild gestures Merlin was making with their hands.

"And the sex rules are just as ridiculous," Merlin continued. "Apparently masturbating doesn’t count as cheating unless you do it instead of having sex with your partner. But Gwaine doesn’t have sex, so technically whenever I masturbate I’m cheating since I’m not also having sex with him from time to time. Which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Whatever allo came up with these rules obviously did not consider the complexities of a mixed-orientation aro-ace relationship.”

“Well, if you decide to call it quits,” Elyan said, “I’m pretty much horny all the time lately, so...”

“When this terrible week is over, you’re the first person I’ll hit up,” Merlin said. “In the meantime...” They nudged Elyan with their shoulder. “Have you got your eye on anyone?”

Unconsciously, Elyan’s gaze flicked to Lancelot practicing out on the field. It had been almost three months since Elyan and the others were knighted, but Elyan still didn’t know Lancelot very well. Of all the Round Table knights, Lancelot was the most private. Elyan always imagined it had something to do with the weird love triangle between his sister, Lancelot, and Arthur, but he sometimes wondered if Lancelot was just...like that. He was so reserved and honorable all the time. Did he even know how to have fun? Did he ever let loose? Elyan didn’t think it was just the hormones making him want to see the answer to that firsthand. 

Merlin followed Elyan’s gaze and nodded their approval. “Good choice. Let me know how it goes, yeah?” Then they furrowed their brows. “Or maybe don’t. Hearing about someone else’s sexual exploits is probably some other form of cheating I don’t know about.” Merlin gave a sigh. “I hate monogamy.”

Elyan snickered. “If anything happens, I’ll be sure to keep the pornographic account to myself.”

“But next week...”

Elyan rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. You’ll be getting a full run-down as soon as this bet is over. A demonstration, even, if you’d like.”

Merlin perked up at that. 

Elyan shoved them playfully. He looked back at Lancelot who was now facing off against Arthur like his life depended on it. Arthur won eventually, but Lancelot surrendered with grace, as he did everything else. He was perfect. Too perfect. 

As much as his hormone-filled body disagreed, Elyan decided sexual propositioning would come later. First, he had an intellectual desire to satisfy. He wanted to see how hard he’d have to push Lancelot to get him to break the rules. Elyan just needed to figure out how to make the first crack in that pristine armor. 

“I need your help with something,” Elyan said when he caught Lancelot alone the next day. 

Lancelot was polishing his sword in the armory. Elyan tried not to think too hard about that--or to look at him at all, really.

Which turned out to be an impossible task because Lancelot glanced up at Elyan with those intense, curious eyes, and Elyan couldn’t look away. 

“Anything for a fellow knight," Lancelot said.

Elyan had to stop his imagination from taking that ‘anything’ out of context. He cleared his throat. “Great. It shouldn’t take long.” 

Lancelot carefully put away his polishing supplies and sheathed his sword. “Lead the way.”

Elyan took him through corridor after corridor, trying to ignore the weight of Lancelot’s gaze on his back. When they reached the visitors’ wing, Elyan dragged Lancelot into a storage closet and shut the door. It was completely dark inside. 

“What...is this?” Lancelot asked. 

With Lancelot pressed up against him in the tight space, Elyan’s impulsive side was ready to throw his initial plan out the window in favor of using the dark closet for what dark closets in castles were meant to be used for. But then--

“What is that horrible smell?”

It did, admittedly, smell very foul. Elyan decided to be uncharitable, however, and credit the mood-killing to Lancelot’s general wet-blanket-ness rather than the bucket of rotten fish. 

“There’s a visiting lord in the room over,” Elyan said, resisting the urge to pinch his nose. The smell was worse now that they'd acknowledged it. “We’re going to rub old fish on all his clothes.”

Elyan knew Lancelot would object. He was annoyingly noble, after all, and this lord was a guest of Camelot. Elyan had a whole spiel at the ready for when Lancelot said ‘no.’ He would blur the lines of the knight’s morality by talking about how this lord was rude to his servants, forcing Lancelot to choose between his oath to Camelot and his personal principles. Elyan just wished it wasn’t so dark in this closet so he could watch the conflict play out on Lancelot’s face. The way his brows would furrow. The way his lips would press into a straight line. The way his eyes would turn all anguished the way they tended to do.

But all Lancelot said was, “It’s about time.” Then, “Here, hold these.” 

There was a clinking sound, a shiver of metal, and then Elyan was holding Lancelot’s chainmail and sword in his arms. 

“I’ll knock on the door to see if he’s in there,” Lancelot said. “If he is, I’ll pretend to be a servant, and he’ll be forced to leave so I can ‘clean’ his room. I’ll come get you when it’s safe to bring in the fish.” 

Elyan didn’t have time to process the rapid planning session before Lancelot was stepping out the door into the hall. There was a distant knock followed by muffled voices, then a set of heeled footsteps clicking down the hall. A minute later, the footsteps dissipated. Two knocks sounded at the closet door. 

Still a bit dazed, Elyan set aside Lancelot’s chainmail and sword, grabbed the fish bucket by the handle, and stepped out into the hallway. Lancelot was holding open the lord’s door for him. 

“I’m impressed,” Elyan said as he entered. “I thought you were too honest to lie to a noble.”

Lancelot shut the door behind him, laughing softly. “Not nearly. I try not to make a habit of it these days though. Wouldn’t want to get banished from Camelot again.” 

Elyan blinked. “Again?”

“I’ll take the trousers if you take the shirts,” Lancelot said.

“You--” Elyan said dumbly. “Yeah, alright.”

When the lord’s clothes were properly sullied, Lancelot and Elyan went their separate ways. Elyan’s mind was still reeling. Each time he tried to ask Lancelot about his banishment, Lancelot had brushed the topic aside or told Elyan to hurry since the lord might be coming back soon. 

But Elyan needed answers, so after a sleepless night of fruitless pondering, he headed to the place most likely to provide them.

The door to Gaius’s chambers was open. Elyan knocked anyway. Merlin and Gaius didn’t even look up, too busy working on whatever concoction they were whipping up at the moment. 

Gwaine waved from the table. “Hey there, handsome.” His easy grin slipped into a grimace. “Er, I mean, um. What’s up, mate?”

Elyan took a seat next to him. “Still figuring out the whole monogamy thing, I see.”

Gwaine flashed a smile. “It’s been brought to my attention that I flirt with pretty much everyone I talk to. Apparently that’s frowned upon in the monogamous world.”

Elyan gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. “Hey, at least the bet’s over tomorrow.” 

“Trust me, I’m counting down the seconds.” He looked Elyan over. “You look like you’re experiencing some revelations of your own. What’s up with you?”

“Did you know Lancelot was banished from Camelot?” 

Gwaine shrugged. “So was I.”

“Yeah, but you’re...you. And Lancelot is...”

“...a veritable stick in the mud?” Gwaine asked. 

“Exactly.” Elyan frowned. “Or so I thought. I just wish I knew what he did to get banished.”

“Merlin would know.” Gwaine turned in his seat. “Hey, Merlin. What did Lancelot get banished for?”

Merlin didn’t even glance up from the liquid they were pouring. “Identity fraud. Gaius, is it supposed to be turning that color?” 

Elyan’s brain fizzled out like whatever was in that glass vial. It seemed he had some serious reconsideration to do before he saw Lancelot again. Just this morning, he believed Lancelot to be irritatingly righteous and in desperate need of a guiding hand to lead him into the world of rebellion and debauchery. Now, Elyan was starting to think Lancelot was already quite familiar with that world. He just needed to figure out how to get that side of Lancelot to reveal himself. 

“Cage fighting?” Elyan demanded later that day when he found Merlin making their rounds. “Lancelot spent his banishment cage fighting?”  

Merlin’s lips curved into a funny smile as they rearranged the vials in their bag. “Er, yes? Was this not common knowledge?”

Elyan had asked Lancelot to practice sword fighting with him in an attempt to get to know him better. When Elyan asked how he got so good at it as a commoner, cage fighting was not the answer he was expecting.

“I figured his rebellious side was what attracted you to him in the first place,” Merlin said.

“I didn’t even know he had a rebellious side,” Elyan said back. “I was planning to, you know...corrupt him or whatever.”

Merlin snorted and mumbled something that sounded scarily like, ‘might be the other way around.’ 

Elyan gaped at them.

“You know, I really don’t see why you’re drawing this out so much,” Merlin said. “Lancelot’s usually down to fuck if you just ask.”

“He’s into casual sex, too? Who is this man?”

Merlin rolled their eyes. “Do you need me to be your wingman or something? Because it’s been days already. At this rate, you might as well just wait for this bet to end.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely still be taking you to bed once this week is over,” Elyan said. “But...I don’t know.” He leaned against the wall of the corridor, staring at the place where the opposing wall met the stone floor. “I think I might...still want to pursue this thing with Lancelot. Maybe. I don’t know. I guess I’m just starting to think maybe it’s not only about sex.”

“It doesn’t seem to be about sex at all from where I’m standing,” Merlin said.

“Shut up. You’re just mad there are no fun details to share.”

“Well, yeah.” They didn’t even try to look ashamed. “But I’m also trying to point out that it seems like you might be looking for something besides a casual fuck.” Merlin squinted. “I could be wrong though. My romo radar isn’t always accurate. Did I ever tell you about the enchanted-Vivian-and-Arthur-love-note debacle? Gods, I’m so glad Gwen forgave me for that.”

Elyan considered Merlin’s suggestion. What he felt toward Lancelot didn’t feel like a crush, but he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what a crush felt like. Before he transitioned, he thought maybe he’d felt romantic feelings for people from time to time, but it was...different--almost like his feelings were based upon the disproportionate version of himself he was still desperately trying to make fit. Now, his emotions in general felt stronger, more authentic, and...well, different. He was still trying to sort out what kinds of feelings he did or didn’t feel, and he wasn’t entirely certain romantic attraction was one he did.

Lancelot was a mystery Elyan wanted to solve--that, he knew for sure--and given all Elyan had learned about the other knight lately, Elyan knew he’d like to be his friend. After all, it turned out Lancelot was a lot more fun than he seemed to be. 

But whether or not what Elyan felt constituted a crush...that remained to be seen. 

“Elyan!” 

Elyan was on his way to find Lancelot when Arthur called his name. “Yeah?”

Arthur was breathing heavily like he’d been all over the castle looking for him. He looked a bit green as well. “I really hate to ask you this, but as I’m sure you know, Merlin and Gwaine and I have a bet, and I was wondering if you would be open to--” Arthur cleared his throat, not meeting Elyan’s eyes. “Well, erm, I was hoping you might... seduce Merlin into losing.”

Elyan stared at his king. “I’m almost afraid to ask what the stakes are to make you stoop to this.”

Arthur’s jaw flexed. “If they succeed, I am to muck out the horses while they watch. And I’m not allowed to throw them in the stocks if they see fit to jeer.”

Elyan smirked and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “Might want to invest in a nose plug then, sire.”

While Arthur was opening and closing his mouth like he was considering breaking all decorum and begging at Elyan’s feet, another voice spoke up. “Mind if I borrow Sir Elyan for a moment, my lord?”

Elyan turned to see Lancelot standing there, looking a bit concerned at the fish-like expression on their king’s face. 

“Fine,” Arthur said with a sigh. He stormed off muttering something about treason and future brother-in-laws, but Elyan was too focused on Lancelot to figure out whether he should worry about that. 

“Merlin said you were looking for me,” Lancelot said.

It was true that Elyan was looking for him, but it was also true that he was entirely unprepared to actually come face to face with him. “Is that all they said?”

Lancelot nodded, a curious look in his eyes. 

Elyan should say something suave. He should come clean to Lancelot about the jumble of undefineable feelings ricocheting around in his chest. He should tell Lancelot he knows his secret--that he’s not the perfect goody-two-shoes he pretends to be--and ask him why he’s so careful not to let anyone see that side of him. He should--

“Do you want to fuck?” Elyan asked.

It didn’t come out how he imagined. 

But Merlin said Lancelot was okay with that kind of bluntness. Right?

A smile played at the edge of Lancelot’s mouth. “There’s a broom closet that way.”

For the second time in as many days, Elyan followed Lancelot into a dark closet and shut the door behind him. 

The next day, Gwaine popped his head into Elyan’s room and said, “Morning, gorgeous.” He then proceeded to deposit a series of dumb pick-up lines into Elyan’s unwilling ears.

“I’m so glad you’ve earned your right to flirt back,” Elyan mumbled, “but can’t this wait until the sun has come up?”

Gwaine came over and dropped a sloppy kiss on Elyan’s forehead before agreeing to leave Elyan in peace. 

A few hours later--at a much more reasonable time of day--Gwaine returned. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to flirt this time. Just dropping off a sex-starved Merlin. As a treat.” 

Merlin laughed and shut the door in Gwaine’s face. When Elyan pulled back the covers, Merlin crawled in to join him. 

“Congrats on making it through your week of monogamy.”

“Congrats on fucking Lancelot. Took you long enough.” Merlin wiggled their brows and presented themself on the mattress. “I believe I was promised a demonstration.”

Elyan cracked a smile. “Later.” He straddled Merlin and rolled his hips against their erection.

“Fuck,” Merlin said, letting their head fall back against the pillows. “Remind me never to try monogamy again.”

“And here I thought you might be a convert,” Elyan joked, biting at their collarbone.

Merlin glared at him. It wasn’t very intimidating given the obvious pleasure in their eyes. 

Elyan still didn’t know the full extent of Merlin’s duties, but he knew they kept Merlin either high-strung or exhausted or both. That stress melted away whenever Elyan took control, and Elyan loved giving them that kind of release. Among others. 

“Missed seeing you like this,” Elyan said, rolling his hips again.

Merlin’s lips quirked up. “You too. Missed having your cock in my mouth as well.”

Elyan felt warm all over at the seamless way the compliment rolled off of Merlin’s tongue. Merlin had never made Elyan feel like he was burdening them by asking them to use the terminology that made him most comfortable. Elyan loved them for it. “Oh, that’ll be part of the demonstration later,” he teased. 

Merlin bit their lip against a groan and buried their face in Elyan’s shoulder. “That had better be a promise.”

Elyan grinned.

“Boo,” Elyan said when he snuck up behind Gwen in the laundry room later that day. 

She didn’t even have the decency to flinch. “That worked better when you didn’t wear armor everywhere.” 

“I’m still sneaky,” he protested. “You screamed when Percival and I snuck up on you last week.”

“I was asleep,” she said, laughing, “and I screamed because Percival’s chainmail had sleeves.”

“Sleeves that you put there.” 

“How was I supposed to know it would be so unsettling?”

Gwen had finally consented to join in on their prank war after months of needling, and her first round of pranks were so terrifying and brilliant that they didn’t ask her to join again.

“You know, he still wears the ones with sleeves sometimes,” Elyan said, “just to freak us out.”

Gwen considered this for a few seconds before nodding. “I can be proud of that legacy.” She turned back to the laundry, hanging up a tunic on the clothes line. “So...”

“So?” Elyan repeated teasingly. 

Gwen huffed at him. “So what are you doing here?”

“Can’t a knight just visit his sister because he loves her?” 

Gwen raised her brows. 

Elyan could have sworn she used to let him stall longer. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Okay. Well, erm. I was just wondering if--it’s just that I’ve sort of been thinking about--”

“Is this about Lancelot?”

Elyan stared at her. 

Gwen laughed at whatever she saw on his face. “Don’t look so surprised. He came to talk to me this morning. Asked for my permission to court you.”

“He asked your permission?” Elyan thought he was finally piecing together a new and improved vision of Lancelot: secretly fun and deceitful with nobility as a mere cover. But this sounded more like his old image of the knight--the boringly traditional one. 

“Well, you know how Lancelot is,” Gwen said, and unlike Gwaine and Elyan, she actually said it like a compliment. 

“Less and less everyday,” Elyan muttered. “So what did you say?”

“I told him I think it’s a great idea. That is, if you’re interested.”

“You--what? Why?”

Gwen shrugged as she wrung out another tunic. “You two have a lot in common. It makes sense.”

“It does not.”

After Gwen pinned the tunic on the clothesline, she wiped her hands dry. “Why not?” 

Elyan couldn’t believe she didn’t already know. “Because Lancelot is-- you know --he’s...noble, and honorable, and...and--” The next word hit Elyan like a punch in the gut. “And good,” he said quietly. “He’s good.”

For months, Elyan had imagined Lancelot was perfect in absence of being other things--things like interesting, and rebellious, and fun. When he found out Lancelot was secretly all of those things, he decided that meant Lancelot couldn’t really be good.

Elyan had been calling it ‘pretend,’ acting like everything Lancelot appeared to be was an insincere mask, because it was easier than admitting the real reason Lancelot got under his skin: deep down, Elyan was afraid Lancelot was better than him, innately and irreparably.

Elyan recognized the expression on Gwen’s face as the one she wore whenever the weight of their father’s absence grew heavier. “He tries,” she corrected. “Lancelot tries to be good. He tries to be noble and honorable and all the other incredible things he is. Most of the time, he succeeds. But he fails, too--sometimes several times before he gets it right.” Gwen gave Elyan a small smile. “Kind of like someone else I know. But the thing is: if you only look at the successes or the failures, you can’t really get a good picture of someone.” Gwen elbowed him, mirth in her eyes. “If you only look at one or the other, you can’t see how weird they are.”

Elyan knew her comment was a jab at him. He knew that. And yet--

He couldn’t help grinning because he had never thought of applying the word ‘weird’ to Lancelot. It was novel. Enlightening, even. 

The ‘trying’ that Gwen talked about--the successes and failures--they all made Lancelot into a bizarre cluster of traits and behaviors that were, in combination, completely batshit. Lancelot was loyal and noble and chivalrous, yes, but also deceitful and impulsive and treasonous. He was ridiculously good at everything, yes, but also an absolute disaster just waiting to get banished again. He was totally and mind-bogglingly bizarre. J ust...so fucking weird. Which was way better than being perfect, or even good. 

“So you have my permission,” Gwen said, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

Elyan scoffed. “I wasn’t.”

But he thanked her with his eyes, and the fond eye roll Gwen sent back told him she understood.

Merlin and Gwaine decided to make an event out of Arthur mucking out the horse stalls. Gwen, Merlin, and the Round Table knights gathered around to watch, passing mead between them and making teasing remarks at every opportunity. Arthur got progressively more irritated, which caused him to make messier mistakes, which caused the teasing from his audience to increase, which made him even more irritated, and so on.

After about ten minutes of this, Arthur retaliated and dragged Merlin and Gwaine into the mess. The rest of the group were yanked in shortly thereafter, and soon, every single one of them was covered in horse dung and laughing their ass off.

As Merlin chased Arthur around with maneure in their hand and Leon carried Gwen piggyback style while she pelted Gwaine and Percival with projectiles, and Elyan tackled Lancelot to the ground. 

Not so perfect now, Elyan thought. Except Elyan knew now that Lancelot had never been perfect, and that he didn’t even pretend to be. He just tried really really hard to be good. The ‘perfection’ effect came naturally. Elyan liked it. He liked Lancelot--the perfections and imperfections and everything in between. 

“You know, you’re way more fun than I expected,” Elyan said. 

Lancelot laughed, still breathless from the tackling. “What was it that changed your mind? The banishment? The cage fighting? Our time in the broom closet?”

Elyan shrugged. “All of it. None of it.” The look in your eyes right now, Elyan added to the list. And--oh. 

Oh.  

“Oh,” he breathed. So that was what romantic attraction felt like. 

“We’re covered in horse dung,” Lancelot said. 

Which wasn’t at all romantic, but Elyan felt kind of dizzy right now, so he didn’t mind. “I have noticed.”

“I just thought I’d remind you,” Lancelot said, “in case you’re thinking about kissing me. It sort of looks like that’s what you’re doing.” 

“I might be. But we are covered in horse dung.” 

There was a softness to Lancelot’s expression, buried beneath his wide-eyed amusement. Elyan’s heart gave a funny thump in his chest. 

“I might let you anyway,” Lancelot said.

After everything Elyan had learned about Lancelot over the past few days, he shouldn’t have been surprised that the perfectly-imperfect-knight would let Elyan kiss him in a pile of horse dung. But at this point, Elyan was fairly certain Lancelot would never stop surprising him, even after his every last mystery was unraveled. 

“Okay, then,” Elyan said.

And Lancelot leaned up to kiss him.