Character/s: Arthur, Morgana, Leon
Summary: Arthur stares like a weirdo according to Morgana
Word Count: 464
Prompt: So Close, yet so far
Author's Notes: I miss going to the pub...
Morgana leaned across the table and swiped at Arthur’s arm to get his attention.
“I’m not doing anything!” Arthur pulled back before her nails made contact with his forearm.
“Not doing anything? You’re being a creep with all the staring. Just go up and talk to him.”
“Talk to who?” Leon asked as he carefully placed the round of pints on the table and slid into his seat next to Morgana.
“See that cutie with teh black hair by the bar?” Morgana had the good grace not to point, but it was obvious who she was talking about.
Leon looked over and nodded. “I can see the appeal. So what’s the problem?”
“Arthur has been staring at him like a weido since we sat down and it’s getting boring.”
“I haven’t been staring-”
“Like a weirdo.” Morgana emphasised.
“-like a weirdo.” Arthur finished lamely.
Leon took a sip of his beer. “So what’s the problem? Go get his number.”
“Arthur isn’t sure if he’s gay,” Morgana supplied, being ever so helpful.
“With jeans that tight?” Leon raised his eyebrows.
“Hipsters wear tight jeans and they’re not gay.”
Morgana laughed. “Oh please, everyone knows hipsters like to slide all along the Kinsey scale. So either way, your cock is getting sucked.”
“Not so loud!” Arthur checked to see if the cute man had heard his obnoxious sister. “Look, I don’t even know if he’ll say yes, despite his skinny jeans.”
“Arthur, I feel in this case, I should be a supportive friend and agree with my gorgeous girlfriend. Go ask him.” Leon was no help at all.
Arthur looked down at his drink, looked up at the man and then back at his drink. He then proceeded to down it. Empty glass back on the table, Arthur subtly wiped his mouth and stood from the table. The man at the bar was laughing at something the barman had said and Arthur felt a shiver at how the man made him feel with just his head tilting back and his neck exposed.
“Stop faffing,” Morgana pushed at him. “Go.”
He took one step and then another until he was at the bar. The man smiled at the barman in thanks, put his wallet in his pocket and turned away from Arthur and walked out the pub.
Arthur returned to the table, feeling like an utter moron.
Morgana was cackling. “So close, yet so far.”
Leon patted him on the shoulder as if to say you’ll get him next time.
A waiteress brought around a tray of shots with a number scrawled onto a serviette.
“Here,” she said, handing it to Arthur. “Gwaine says you should call Merlin after 2pm and to stop staring like a weirdo at his friend.”
Morgana laughed even louder.