He knows what happened wasn't Lancelot's fault; Merlin told him one night, and he can't blame the other for it.

He raises his hand, shaking his head. "No need for that, Lancelot." He says quietly. "I know what happened, you don't need to apologize for something that wasn't your doing."

Well, he didn't want to make it more uncomfortable than it already was - he doesn't quite remember it but he thinks they didn't exactly leave on good terms, either.

The king pauses, turning to finally face him.

"Sir Lancelot."

... He gets it if Lancelot doesn't want anything to do with Camelot. To be honest, if he had a choice, he wouldn't either. But the way he can see the other hesitate tells Arthur everything, so he leaves him be. He won't tell a soul he saw him.

... Neither is he, but here they both are.

"Lancelot?"

Mhmmm. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

Arthur wraps his arms around the other, pulling him close and burying his face into to the mop of brown hair. It's been a long time since they've had some time together, hasn't it?

. . . ??? It's his bed too?

Oh, look at that, Arthur just got finished washing up and he's climbing into bed with him. He could use a nap, too.

He's observant! Just... not with his emotions.

He just groans, burying his face into his hands.

. . . In my defense, it took me like ten years to realize I loved Merlin?

. . .

He was being flirty with me?

(Oh).