[ He is being a bit of a twat, but perhaps not for the reasons he might think. Losing his hair had been a trigger for him; take care of yourself, Robin, you don't want to fall out of shape. You're a good looking man, best keep it up, best stay healthy. He didn't have to try very hard when he was nineteen, and the same can't be said about being fifty one.

At the compliment, Merlin chuckles sheepishly and a hand jumps up to smooth over his full head of hair. It's been shaved clean for so long that to run his fingers through instead of over his hair is a motion he's almost forgotten. He's letting himself be shepherded by Eggsy's will, and that really is one the incredibly endearing things about the lad isn't it? He is miraculously good at getting people to want to drop everything that they're doing to keep his company, just by being himself. He's miraculously good at getting Merlin to stop, to talk, to listen, even when he should be working on fixing whatever he's done to himself. ]

Aye, I've seen it. I would rather see less of it, as a matter of fact, given that I don't know what the lasting effect might be.