Title: Looking Back
Pairing/s: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Mordred, Mordred/Galahad(OC)
Character/s: Arthur, Mordred, Merlin, Galahad(OC), Lancelot, Elaine(OC)
Summary: Arthur should have seen it coming
Warnings: Age difference, revenge (or is it?)
Word Count: 566
Author's Notes: I don't know, I just really wanted some Arthur/Mordred and then this happened...
Looking back, Arthur should have seen it coming. After all, a boy half his age should never have been interested in him in the first place. But Mordred had acted like what was between them was perfectly normal and, well, Arthur to his shame had gone along with it.
They’d met in a club, a month after Merlin had made it perfectly clear he wanted nothing to do with Arthur any more. They’d both been hammered, and Arthur suspected Mordred had taken some of the powder that was being passed through the club, but he’d never admit to that. From the moment Mordred had set eyes on him, there’d been something. For a moment, Arthur had forgotten he was in his thirties and stared straight back, licked his lips and walked over. They danced close, hips pressed tight together, and when Mordred kissed him Arthur wasn’t surprised. And when he fucked Mordred, well, if he was listening out for a voice he knew he wouldn’t hear again, well, that wasn’t a crime.
When they woke up and exchanged numbers, Arthur thought it was just a formality. Over the hastily thrown together breakfast of toast and dubious looking marmalade he watched Mordred and was sure, so sure, that Mordred was regretting his decision of who took him home. Arthur was too old, and that was fine, they’d never see each other again.
Only Mordred called. Surprised, caught too far off guard to think of an excuse, Arthur agreed to see him.
And then drinking happened, and he took Mordred home.
He supposes Mordred’s looks were always too intense, his touch too desperate. Arthur put it down to his youth, too busy seeing Merlin as he was before the bitterness began in the colour of his eyes, the curl of his hair as he threaded his fingers through it. But there was more to it, Arthur sees it now. He doesn’t understand what, not yet, but he knows.
Because it wasn’t bitterness that drew Merlin away; it was worry. And when he rang, with his apologies and his promises and his secrets that were filed away no longer, Arthur went running. It had been wrong to let Mordred think he could have cared; Arthur’s heart belonged to Merlin, he was embedded in it like a shard of a jewel, precious and painful. But Arthur had never thought it would hurt Mordred. He’d always seen himself as Mordred’s way of getting a lot of experience fast.
Oh, he should have seen.
Because now Mordred’s turning up to the garden party on the arm of Lancelot’s son, and poor Galahad is besotted, draped all over him, and Elaine is grinning, proud of her son and his first real relationship-
And Arthur is the only one who knows. Who sees Mordred’s eyes, looking out from under his hair, staring straight at Arthur. And he can’t tell, can’t let anyone know, because when Mordred kisses Galahad it looks real, and when he smiles at him his eyes soften, and maybe he really does care.
But there’s something wrong, and Arthur won’t do anything because Mordred has probably just found someone he cares for his own age like Arthur always thought he should do and it’s just a coincidence that Galahad happens to be his godson… but he will watch. Because if there’s something Arthur will never let happen, it’s Galahad getting hurt.