It was almost funny how fast things got out of Merlinâs hand. In all those years of his friendship with Simon he never really thought of him as anything else than a friend ââ and then suddenly, given a little suggestion, things changed completely. Sometime, among the soft touches and innocent kisses, and sweet words, all meant to be just for the show, Merlin forgot they werenât real.
                   The thing was, Merlin knew it was just pretending, but it almost scared him just how easy it was to stay in character, and then finally, he understood it wasnât because of their friendship; not entirely, at least. It was because he wouldnât mind calling Simon his. In a way, he already was; in a way he could never be. And just because of that, Merlin decided to just keep it to himself and forget of it. Simon asked him to be his fake boyfriend, and only a fake he would be.
                   But then this particular day came, completely innocent and inconspicuous in its normalcy, with them just hanging around each other like they would always do, but with something heavy around them, bugging Merlin into slight uncertainty and nervousness as he chopped vegetables for their lunch, more clumsy than usual, sneaking glances at Simon from time to time.
                   Merlin only really looked at him when the other spoke though, breaking the usually comfortable silence, today weighing on them more than usual. âYeah,â he said with a soft smile, dropping the chopped pepper to the little bowl with halfway made salad. âOf course you can. What is it?â he asked calmly, putting the knife back on the counter and turning to look at Simon, only to see him dabbling about the hole in his trousers.
                  He sent him an encouraging smile, waiting patiently as the other struggled to find the words, his face turning darker the further it took him to say it. And then, when the words came and Simon said what he meant to from the beginning, Merlin didnât really seem to catch that at all.
                   He blinked rapidly, eyes wider and lips parted as he gaped at Simon in plain surprise, as if trying really hard to understand what exactly just happened and had been said. He was pretty sure Simon just told him exactly what he felt himself; and yet it seemed impossible, surreal to the point he shook his head and laughed, running fingers through his hair nervously, taking the whole ordeal as a joke.
                    But then Simon looked close to crying. Then he couldnât really look up at Merlin normally, and he seemed slumped, smaller than his usual self. âWaitâââ youâre not joking right now?â