FIC: So This Is Christmas
Title: So This Is Christmas
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13 maybe, if you squint
Word Count: ~6,000
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Merlin and Arthur's first Christmas after getting married.
Notes: I wrote this as a Christmas present for my dear friend corilannam, who listens to me rant and rave about Arthur all day and still likes me anyway. It's a sequel to For Worse or For Better, which you should read for the back story as some references to it are made. Thanks to S for the beta, especially during the holidays and to hanelissar for the britpick. Any further mistakes are mine alone.
Notes Part 2: If you do not like fluff, TURN AWAY NOW. This will probably rot your teeth. Seriously, I am almost embarrassed.
ETA: This has now been cleaned up a bit and beta'd by corilannam, so it's much cleaner. And the sentences may be shorter. Not that they ran on before, or anything. Much. *shifty eyes*
“The hell-?” Arthur muttered under his breath. He pushed at the front door, which had stopped after opening only about a foot. He peered through the space between it and the jamb and saw that it was a box that was blocking his entry.
“Merlin,” he called, “why on earth did you put this bloody box by the door?”
When no answer was forthcoming, he pulled back and set his shoulder against the door, giving it a mighty shove. It didn’t budge much, but it was enough for him to squeeze his body through. Scowling, he reached back into the hall for his briefcase, having dropped it so he could muscle into the flat. He started shrugging out of his coat, pausing when he saw the state of the hallway.
There were boxes everywhere, all open. Arthur frowned--he’d never gotten around to unpacking everything after his aborted move back to London. Most of it was stuff he didn’t really need. Why on earth was Merlin doing it now? The contents were scattered across the floor, which was also filthy and littered with--were those pine needles?
“Merlin!” he called again, louder, gingerly picking his way through the mess. There was a muffled thump this time, and after a moment Merlin’s head peeked around the wall from the sitting room.
“Arthur?”
“You were expecting someone else?” he asked, finally getting out of his blasted coat and nearly braining himself on the coat rack when he tripped over the vacuum.
“Oh, for-“
Merlin had the gall to laugh before sobering abruptly and saying, “Don’t move, I’ll be right there.”
“Merlin, I just want to-“
Arthur only managed another step before Merlin came hurtling into the hall.
“No, wait!” he said, literally skidding to a stop in front of Arthur as his socked feet slipped on the polished wood floor. And speaking of the floor…
“What on earth happened here? Why does it look like someone had a wrestling match with a Christmas tr-oh,” he stopped, looking at Merlin. “You didn’t.”
“You weren’t meant to be home until later. I was going to clean up before you got here.”
“Tristan cancelled the meeting,” Arthur replied absently, trying to see past Merlin into the rest of the flat. “What did you do?” Knowing Merlin, a tree was only the tip of the iceberg.
Merlin chewed on his lip for a moment before sighing. “All right fine, you can see. But first....”
Before he knew what’d happened, Merlin was next to him with one of his hands clapped over Arthur’s eyes.
“What-?“
“Shut up. It was supposed to be a surprise, so no peeking.”
Arthur huffed, but he let Merlin lead him around the remainder of the wreckage and out into the sitting room. He could smell it now, the fresh pine scent of the tree Merlin had somehow gotten up there. Merlin manoeuvred him about for a minute before stopping.
“All right,” he said, pulling his hand away, “have a look, then.”
Arthur blinked rapidly to clear his vision, and then again before he could fully process the scene before him.
The tree was tucked into the corner, next to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked Central Park. It was covered in beautiful baubles and soft white lights that twinkled out from between the branches. A lush red and green skirt fanned out from around the base, covered in neatly wrapped gifts.
It wasn’t just the tree, Arthur realized as he looked around. Merlin had strung lights up all around the sitting and dining rooms. The hearth was similarly adorned, with several large stockings hung in a row. It was beautiful, warm and domestic in a way that was so utterly Merlin.
It was the most recent in a long list of ways Merlin had taken Arthur’s previously cold and sterile life and turned it upside down without so much as a by your leave. It was still unfamiliar territory, dealing with all the emotions that crept up when Merlin did things that were exceptionally lovely. Merlin had helped tremendously in the three short months they’d been married, and he was learning, but sometimes it still overwhelmed him.
“Well?” Merlin asked, cautious.
“Where did you get all of this?” he asked in reply. Loveliness aside, he couldn’t help but be impressed. The amount Merlin had accomplished in a few short hours was amazing-it felt like a whole different flat from the one he’d left early that morning.
“Oh. Well, I started looked through all the boxes we were sending to storage, thinking you might have decorations,” he started, waving his arm in the general direction of the hallway, “but then Morgana told me you haven’t really celebrated the past few years. So I went out and bought it all.”
He’d spent the Christmases since his father’s death with Morgana and members of her family, but he’d never bothered decorating his own flat. He hadn't seen the point when he was the only one that would see it.
Merlin cleared his throat, drawing Arthur’s attention back. “I know we didn’t talk about it or anything, but I thought it’d be nice,” he said, “you know, for our first Christmas.” Which they were going to be spending in Ealdor, which was why it’d never occurred to Arthur to bring it up. “Do you like it? You didn’t say.”
He looked at Merlin, who was still disheveled from putting everything together. He had pine needles in his hair and stuck to Arthur’s Oxford rowing hoodie that he’d appropriated the minute he’d moved in. He looked ridiculous, and lovely, and Arthur tried not to think about how stupidly in love he was. Instead, he smiled a bit and said, “It’ll do, I suppose.”
Merlin’s answering grin was blinding, and Arthur knew that he understood everything Arthur meant but hadn’t said-that he loved it, that he loved him. He reached out and plucked a pine needle off Merlin’s shoulder and held it up.
“Oh,” Merlin said, a bit sheepish. “Yeah, we had a bit of a time getting the tree up here.”
“We?”
“Morgana. She helped.”
“That was nice of her,” Arthur said, loosening the knot on his tie. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to change into comfortable clothes and spend the rest of the evening tangled up on the sofa with Merlin.
“Yeah, she should be back any minute, actually. She went out to get some takeaway.”
Arthur groaned, his half-formed plans for the evening evaporating. Unless….
“Pity,” he said, nonchalant, as he started on the buttons of his shirt.
“Hmm?” Merlin said, eyes tracking his fingers' progress with no small amount of interest.
“I had-other plans for the evening.”
Merlin’s gaze flew up to meet his. “What other plans?”
Arthur just cocked an eyebrow and turned toward the bedroom, certain that Merlin would follow. Sure enough, he’d taken just a few steps into the room when Merlin wrapped around him from behind, his chin landing on Arthur’s shoulder.
“On second thought,” he said, “I'll ring Morgana. I don’t feel much like dinner after all.”
++++++++++
Arthur flipped through his tie rack, looking for the one Morgana had bought him for his birthday. “Merlin, have you seen my green Hermès tie?”
Merlin appeared in the doorway of their walk-in closet, a ring of toothpaste suds around his mouth. Rather than answering the question, he narrowed his eyes at Arthur.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled around his toothbrush.
“Getting dressed. Something that you should, perhaps, consider as well. Not that I don’t appreciate the view,” Arthur said, taking in Merlin’s bare torso and the way his hip bones jutted out over the waistband of his pyjama pants, “but that’s hardly appropriate for company.”
They were having a small Christmas gathering at the flat, just Morgana and his uncle Tristan, along with some work colleagues that Merlin was close to. Arthur himself wasn’t particularly close with anyone from work yet, though things had improved since the wedding. Merlin swore it was because being married to him gave Arthur street cred. Arthur was not at all convinced, and also despaired at the extent of Merlin’s Americanisation if he was using expressions like “street cred.”
Merlin’s glare only intensified. “Don’t move,” he said, pointing his toothbrush at Arthur before stomping off to their en suite. He was back a moment later, wiping a towel over his face.
“Right,” he said, dropping the towel into the hamper. “You are not wearing that.”
Arthur looked down at his crisp button down and suit trousers. “What? Why?”
“A suit? Really?”
“So? You love this suit!”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “For work. Arthur, you can’t wear a suit for your own Christmas do!”
“Why not? There will be people from work there! And the fact that we’re hosting it is all the more reason to look nice.”
Merlin stared at him for a moment, and then his face softened. “You really are unbearably posh, aren’t you?”
Arthur put his hands on his hips, not at all swayed by the fond look on Merlin’s face. Not one bit.
“Merlin.”
“You can look nice in casual clothes,” Merlin said, going through Arthur’s jumpers and pulling out his favourite, a deep red cashmere v-neck. “Here, wear this one.”
Arthur eyed it warily. “I don’t think-“
“The point is for people to get to know you outside of work. Now put it on,” he said, turning to Arthur’s section of trousers. Arthur started undoing his buttons with a heavy sigh.
“I could just hide in here all night and let you deal with everyone.”
“None of that. You agreed.”
He had, but he’d agreed after a blowjob. He’d probably agree to a hot poker through the eye after one of Merlin’s blowjobs.
“I was coerced.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time,” Merlin said, shooting a coy look back over his shoulder.
“Tart.”
“You love it,” was the reply, and then Merlin yanked a pair of jeans off a hanger. “These, too.”
Arthur pulled the jumper over his head and took the jeans from Merlin. When he was dressed, Merlin looked him over critically before reaching over to ruffle his hair.
“Perfect,” he said, grinning triumphantly.
Arthur tried very hard not to think about what his hair looked like. “Your turn!” he said, grabbing a pair of shoes and darting out into the bedroom.
When he was certain that Merlin was no longer paying him any mind, he went into the en suite and fixed his hair. He was just slipping on his shoes when the doorbell rang.
“That’ll be Morgana and Gwen,” Merlin called. “They’ve got the booze.”
“Thank fuck,” Arthur muttered. He’d definitely need a drink or two to get through the night.
***
“You know, you’re adapting to this whole marriage bit a lot better than I expected.”
Arthur darted a glance at Morgana, who’d just settled herself next to him against the island.
“What?”
“The whole jealous husband thing. You’ve got it down pat.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been glowering at Gwaine for the past half hour.”
Arthur felt his cheeks heat. “I have not.”
Morgana laughed outright at that. “Jealousy you do well, but you’re a shit liar, brother dear.”
“Step-brother,” Arthur muttered weakly, without heat. She was partially right after all; he’d been watching Gwaine talk to Merlin, but he’d certainly not been glowering. Arthur didn’t glower. Ever. Not even when impertinent little editing associates got overly hands-y with his (slightly drunk, Arthur suspected) husband.
“Whatever,” Morgana said, patting his cheek. “You’ve nothing to worry about. For some reason I cannot fathom, Merlin adores you. You know that.”
“Yes, but does he?” he asked, waving his glass in Gwaine’s direction before taking another sip, letting the scotch roll around in his mouth.
“Oh, I’m sure he does. When I left them, Merlin was telling everyone about your wedding night. In great detail.”
Arthur choked mid-swallow, turning around quickly before he sent scotch spewing everywhere.
“Fuck, that burns,” he managed when he finally got his coughing under control. Morgana was chuckling because she was, in fact, a horrible person.
“Oh, you are delightfully entertaining tonight.”
“Harpy,” he shot back, setting his glass on the counter and starting toward Merlin. He was fairly certain that Morgana was having him on; Merlin knew how closely Arthur guarded his personal life. However, he also knew how Merlin got when he drank, so he thought it best to assess the situation personally.
He plastered a smile on his face as he approached the group, which consisted of Merlin and Gwaine, another of the editors named Leon, and Gwen, who Merlin had picked as Arthur’s new assistant.
“Everyone’s having fun, I hope,” he said once he got within hearing distance. Merlin’s face lit up when he saw him, and Arthur’s stomach did a little flip-flop.
“Arthur!”
He slipped out from under the arm Gwaine had around his shoulders and wobbled over to Arthur, who caught him about the waist.
“How much have you had to drink, exactly?” Arthur asked, peering into his eyes. It’d been several hours since everyone had arrived and they’d both been busy mingling, so he hadn’t been able to pay close enough attention.
“You’re so handsome,” Merlin said, completely ignoring Arthur’s question. “Isn’t he so handsome?” he turned to ask the group.
“Yes, quite,” Leon said, lips quirking. Arthur actually did like Leon, having gotten to know him a bit over the past few months. From what Arthur could tell, he was a very good friend to Merlin, who was back to beaming at Arthur.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“I was just talking to Morgana,” Arthur replied. “She told me you were over here saying embarrassing things.”
“Oh no,” Gwen said. “He wasn’t, not at all.” Arthur rather liked her as well, even if Merlin had made sure she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him.
“I could, though,” Merlin said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I could tell them about the time we went suit shopping and you took me into the-“
“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Arthur said loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth. Leon and Gwen laughed loudly, and even Gwaine let out a small chuckle. Merlin was giggling as well, his eyes crinkled into slits as he tried to pull Arthur’s hand away from his face.
“Are you going to behave?” Arthur asked. Merlin nodded, so he removed his hand, keeping it hovering nearby as a precaution. Merlin just stepped to Arthur’s side and slid an arm around his waist, his cheek landing against Arthur’s shoulder.
They were careful to keep work separate from their personal lives, so they weren’t usually affectionate around work colleagues. Arthur was feeling quite relaxed, though, so he dropped a quick kiss to Merlin’s head, whispering a fond, “Idiot,” against his hair.
He felt Merlin’s cheek shift as he grinned.
***
Later, when all the guests were gone and everything was clean, Arthur set about getting ready for bed. When he came out of the en suite, Merlin was watching him from where he’d sprawled out over the duvet. Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Look at you,” he said. “Go on, then, budge up.”
He manoeuvred Merlin around enough to get the bedding out from under him. Before he could pull it back up, though, Merlin grabbed him about the bicep and tugged. Caught by surprise, Arthur fell forward, catching himself with his arms on either side of Merlin’s shoulders.
“What-?“
“You know that I wouldn’t-that I’d never do anything with Gwaine, yeah?”
Arthur’s knees gave out and he sat down abruptly. “I-“
“I saw you with Morgana,” Merlin said, sitting up so suddenly that Arthur had to jerk back to avoid getting smashed in the nose by Merlin’s face.
“I know I said it was like that once,” he continued, referring to a conversation they’d had soon after the wedding where Merlin had admitted that he and Gwaine had dated briefly, “but it’s not like that anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
He grabbed Arthur’s waist and pulled until he slid forward so Merlin could wrap his arms around him, pressing his face against Arthur’s neck. Arthur’s hand automatically went to the back of Merlin’s head to hold him there, carding his fingers through Merlin’s hair.
“It was because of you,” Merlin mumbled against his neck, so low that Arthur almost didn’t hear him.
“Me? What do you mean?”
Merlin laughed. “We would go out and all I would do was talk about you-it was mostly complaining at the time-and eventually he said that he wasn’t interested in a threesome, so we decided to just be friends.”
“And you didn’t object?”
“No. I guess I knew, even back then,” Merlin said, sighing.
“Knew what?”
“About you and me. About us.”
Arthur continued stroking his fingers through the hair at Merlin’s nape, letting it curl around his fingers. He had no idea how to respond; Merlin had a knack for knocking him completely off kilter. He knew Merlin wouldn’t be saying any of this if he were sober, but Arthur coveted it anyway, as he did any proof that Merlin felt as strongly for him as he did for Merlin. Also, he was rather pleased at the role he’d played in breaking him and Gwaine up, even if he’d had no idea of it at the time.
“I know you wouldn’t,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “I trust you.”
Merlin sat up then, smiling at him, knowing that Arthur didn’t give his trust away easily.
“Good,” he said, leaning forward and nudging his lips against Arthur’s, resting a hand against Arthur’s chest as they kissed. He made a surprised noise when he felt Arthur’s skin, as though he’d only just realized that Arthur was shirtless. He pulled back and gave Arthur a blatant once-over.
“Hello,” he said, cheeky, his smile quickly shifting from fond to wicked. He kissed Arthur again, deeper and quite a bit dirtier, and it took all of Arthur’s willpower to pull back.
“You’re drunk,” he said when Merlin pouted.
“Not that much. Besides,” he said, his fingers tracking the waistband of Arthur’s boxer briefs across his stomach, “as my husband, I believe you are duty bound to take advantage of me whenever the opportunity presents itself.”
Arthur swallowed when Merlin’s fingers found their way under the waistband and then lower.
“Hmm,” he eventually managed, “you may be right.”
Merlin grinned, leaning in once more.
++++++++++
Arthur stared out the window of the small plane at the mountaintops breaking through the clouds. They were on the final leg of their journey to Ealdor, where they’d spend Christmas and New Year’s before returning to New York in two weeks’ time.
“What about Italy? Ooh, or Spain? I’ve always wanted to go to Barcelona,” Merlin was saying next to him as he flipped through a huge travel magazine.
Morgana, in a display of generosity that’d surprised even Arthur, had gifted them with two round-trip airline tickets to any destination of their choosing. She'd ignored their protests, stating that they’d never had a proper honeymoon and deserved to get away together. Arthur was letting Merlin choose the destination; he’d never been anywhere but England and America. Arthur had been all over Europe and parts of the tropics already.
“Spain is gorgeous,” Morgana said from her seat across the aisle, “though I’ll warn you right now, Arthur’s Spanish is horrid.”
Arthur spared a moment to shoot her a glare. Merlin just laughed, nudging him gently. They’d exchanged gifts with her early, thinking she’d be flying back to England. When her plans had fallen through, Merlin had immediately invited her to Ealdor.
His thoughts turned to the imminent reunion with Merlin’s family. While he and Merlin had talked and moved on, Arthur wasn’t so sure Merlin’s family had done the same. He’d spoken with both Hunith and Gaius a few times since then, and they'd been pleasant enough. He’d sensed an underlying tension, though, and he wasn’t sure if he was projecting or if they truly were harbouring grudges. Not that he could blame them; he was still appalled by the way he’d acted.
“You’re being quiet,” Merlin said, his chin landing on Arthur’s shoulder and breaking him out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Arthur said, clearing his throat when it came out hoarse. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Things. Nothing specific.”
Merlin lifted his head, and Arthur could feel the scrutiny. “You’re nervous,” he said after a moment.
“I am not.”
“Liar. You are,” Merlin said around a jaw-cracking yawn. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from my 75 year-old grandfather and tiny slip of a mother.”
Arthur glared at his sleepy husband. “Shut up, Merlin.”
Merlin just chuckled, because it always amused him when Arthur was cross with him. He reached over and took Arthur’s hand, pulling it into his lap and wrapping both his hands around it. He shifted until he was close enough to drop his head onto Arthur’s shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Merlin said. “How could they possibly resist you when you’re so charming all the time?”
Arthur elbowed him in the sternum in retaliation, but he didn’t pull away. After a moment he shifted to rest his cheek against Merlin’s hair.
He glanced over at Morgana, who was watching them with a fond look on her face. She’d taken to doing that whenever they showed any kind of affection in front of her. Arthur knew she was just happy for him, so he gave her a small smile and then settled in for the remainder of the journey.
++++++++++
Arthur yawned and scratched at his stomach through the t-shirt he’d worn to sleep. He looked up at the clock and groaned-4:00 a.m., and he was downstairs in the kitchen making tea.
They were three days into their trip, and it was very early on Christmas Eve. So far, everything had gone smoothly. Morgana was completely in love with both Hunith and Gaius, and they with her, so between her and Merlin he was never alone with either of them for long.
He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous-Hunith’s greeting at the airport had been warm, as was Gaius’s upon their arrival. They’d both been lovely, but he just couldn’t shake the tension he felt around them. Merlin mocked him relentlessly about it.
“Really, Arthur, there’s no reason to scurry away when you see my mum coming,” he’d said on one occasion, laughing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I didn’t ‘scurry,’” he’d said. And he hadn’t. He’d just-abruptly changed the direction in which he’d been walking.
Merlin had just shaken his head and kissed Arthur on the cheek. “You’re the one being ridiculous. They adore you.”
“They get that from you, I suppose,” Arthur had replied. Adore him? Certainly not.
At which point Merlin had called him “tolerable,” which had led to Arthur shoving him. A violent wrestling match had ensued, during which they'd knocked over a vase and received a stern lecture from Hunith about behaving like ruffians in the house.
And really, he thought sheepishly, that probably hadn’t helped his cause.
He yawned again and pulled a mug down from the cupboard. He was searching for the tea bags when he heard a voice behind him.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He jumped a bit, turning to see Hunith standing in the doorway. “Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine. No, I’m fine, actually, the tea is for Merlin,” he babbled. Bloody hell, he wasn’t mentally equipped to deal with Hunith at four in the morning.
She arched an eyebrow. “He sent you to make him tea at this hour?”
“Oh, no,” Arthur replied, finally locating the tea. “He’s been tossing and turning all night; I don’t think he’s feeling well.” He paused to pour the boiling water into the mug and over the teabag. “I think he ate too much at dinner, so I thought I’d make him some tea to settle his stomach.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said. “He's lucky he has you to take care of him.”
Arthur watched as the water grew darker, the sweet scent of chamomile wafting up and soothing him a bit. He wasn’t sure how to respond to her comment, so he just made a noncommittal sound while waiting for the tea to steep. He heard Hunith sigh.
“Arthur,” she started, and he couldn’t help the tensing of his shoulders. She must’ve noticed because she said, “I’m not going to yell at you.”
He tried not to wince, waiting for the but.
“I won’t lie and say that I would’ve been this calm had you been standing in front of me four months ago,” she said, and that made him feel better, knowing that she’d been angry, that she’d wanted to yell at him, because he deserved that. “But we’ve honestly made our peace with it. How could we not, when Merlin is so happy?”
“I just wish that I could show you how truly sorry I am about everything that happened.”
She moved closer, resting a hand on his arm. “Arthur, you’re standing in my kitchen at four in the morning making tea for my over-indulged son. Don’t you think that says something?”
“Yes,” he said eventually, “I suppose that it does.”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here.”
“I’m not,” he said quickly. “I actually quite like it here.”
“Good. Now take that upstairs to Merlin. If he doesn’t get at least a few hours sleep, we’ll all be suffering tomorrow.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, picking up the mug. “Thank you, Hunith.”
“You’re welcome. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Me or Gaius.”
He paused, an idea he’d been mulling over for a while popping into his head.
“Actually, there is something I could use some help with.”
***
After making arrangements with Hunith, Arthur took Merlin’s tea upstairs. Much to his delight, they’d been given the same bedroom they’d occupied on their first visit. He closed the door behind him. Merlin was sitting up on the bed with his arms wrapped around his middle, looking decidedly green. He looked so pathetic that Arthur had to laugh, which earned him a glare.
“You are the worst husband ever, you know?”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Here I am, obviously suffering-“
“Not my fault.”
“-and you just disappear, and then you come back and laugh at me.”
And really, Merlin could pout with the best of them when he set his mind to it. Arthur lifted the mug he was holding.
“I ‘disappeared’ down to the kitchen to make you some tea.”
Merlin perked up a bit. “Tea?”
“Yes, chamomile for your stomach. But since I’m such a terrible husband….”
“Who said that?” Merlin asked, reaching his hands out for the mug. “Obviously they had no idea what they were talking about.”
“Obviously,” Arthur replied, smug, as he walked the tea over to Merlin’s side of the bed, handing it to him. He ran his hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to flatten his horrendous bed head. Merlin took a sip and groaned.
“Urgh. My stomach. Food is evil.”
“Yes, the way all those mince pies leapt up off the table and crammed themselves down your throat was dastardly.”
That earned him another glare, though he leaned into Arthur’s petting. “Yes, yes, mock my pain.”
“Your ‘pain’ has kept me up all night as well, you know.”
“We’re married,” Merlin said, setting the mug down on the bedside table and pulling at Arthur’s hand. “What’s mine is yours.”
“I don’t think that’s quite what that means,” Arthur said, letting Merlin manhandle him onto the bed. He wound up propped against the headboard with Merlin between his legs, his back to Arthur’s chest. He took Arthur’s right hand and slipped it up under his sleep shirt, placing it against the warm skin of his belly.
“You’re completely pathetic, you realize,” Arthur said as he started rubbing his hand in slow, soothing circles. Merlin let out a content sigh, picking his tea up again.
“Whatever you say, just don’t stop.”
He didn’t, not until Merlin’s head sank back onto his shoulder, his empty mug tumbling to the mattress from his relaxed grip. Arthur retrieved it and set it aside before manoeuvring out from under Merlin, who made an unhappy noise but didn’t otherwise stir.
As he settled in next to him to try and get at least a few hours sleep, Arthur thought that maybe Hunith and Morgana were right: perhaps he wasn’t too bad at this whole husband lark after all.
++++++++++
Hunith, it turned out, made the best mulled wine that Arthur had ever tasted. As a result, he drank quite a lot of it before, during, and after Christmas Eve dinner and was now lounging on some large throw pillows on the floor in the den. Everyone else had already retired; it was just him and Merlin left. The fire was crackling in the hearth and Merlin was propped against him, reading. Arthur couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so utterly content.
He must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, the grandfather clock in the hallway was chiming midnight. His eyes popped open.
“Merlin?” he asked, groggy, looking around.
“Here,” Merlin said, coming out of the dining room. “Had to hide the rest of the trifle, or Gaius would’ve gotten into it and we’d be fetching him from the middle of the lake.”
Arthur smiled at the image. Merlin dropped down next to him and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Happy Christmas.”
“You, too. Sorry I fell asleep,” Arthur said, rubbing his eyes. Merlin just smiled down at him.
“You were up all night with me and then had a long day. Where did you get off to with my mum for so long, anyway?”
Arthur chewed on his lower lip, looking up at Merlin for a moment before rolling onto his side and pushing up off the floor. Merlin looked up at him, startled.
“Where are you-“
“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
He took the stairs two at a time, moving quietly so as not to wake anyone. Once in their room, he reached into his coat pocket for the small velvet box he’d stashed there earlier. He lifted it out, staring down at it and debating.
He hadn’t been sure how he was going to present it to Merlin, but he was never more comfortable than when it was just the two of them. Also, it was technically Christmas now, so it was as good a time as any. He closed his fingers tightly around it and turned to go back downstairs. Merlin looked up when he came back into the den.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Arthur said, moving to sit on the cushion in front of him, suddenly nervous. This was going to be ridiculously sentimental no matter what he did, so he just lifted his hand, presenting the box to Merlin, who blinked at it.
“What is that?”
“Open it.”
Merlin plucked the box from his palm and opened it, gaping down at the contents.
Nestled inside were two platinum rings, identical except that one was slightly narrower than the other.
When they’d gotten married, things had been so rushed that they hadn't had time to worry about what kind of rings they wanted. Merlin had run out and gotten the quickest and easiest rings he could find, simple gold bands. They’d agreed to look into replacing them at a later date.
Arthur had been contemplating it for a while, but he hadn’t made up his mind until his conversation with Hunith in the kitchen. When he’d told her what he wanted to do, she’d immediately agreed to help. They’d driven to a jeweller friend of hers a few towns over who specialized in unique wedding bands. She helped him choose these: adorned with a Celtic maze design and black antiquing, they’d been sized and ready within a few hours.
Merlin was still staring down at them, speechless, so Arthur started talking nervously to fill the silence.
“There are other gifts, obviously, for when everyone exchanges later on, but I thought it should be just the two of us for this, seeing as it’s a bit personal and all. I thought it’d be a nice surprise, and then Hunith knew someone who’d do them right away-“
Merlin’s head finally lifted at that. “This is where the two of you went today? To get these?”
Arthur nodded. “If you don’t like them, we can always-“
“Are you mad? Of course I like them, Arthur; they’re beautiful. I just-I-“
“I know we talked about getting them together,” Arthur said, encouraged, “but the ones we have now, I hate them so much. They make me feel as though, I don’t know, this whole thing is temporary, and I-“
“What?” Merlin asked when Arthur hesitated. “You what?”
“I don’t want it to be,” he answered, cheeks warming as he rubbed his finger over the brocade on one of the cushions. “Temporary.”
Merlin was silent for a moment, studying Arthur so intently that he started to fidget.
“Look-“
He was cut off suddenly by a lapful of Merlin, still clutching the box in one hand, his other arm wrapping around Arthur’s shoulders. Merlin, who was kissing him and kissing him, anywhere he could reach. Arthur tried to keep them upright, but their combined weight was too much, and gravity eventually won as they toppled backwards.
“I know, I know,” Merlin was mumbling over and over against Arthur’s lips, “I don’t want that either. I haven’t ever wanted that, not even when I thought it was all for show.”
“Fuck,” Arthur said, grabbing onto Merlin tighter, “Merlin.”
“What, here?” Merlin asked, lifting his head to grin down at Arthur. “We should probably take that kind of thing upstairs.”
Arthur stared back at him for a moment, his heart so full he thought it might burst right out of his chest. “Idiot,” he finally said, pulling Merlin’s head back down so he could keep kissing him. Merlin laughed.
“I love you, too.”
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13 maybe, if you squint
Word Count: ~6,000
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Merlin and Arthur's first Christmas after getting married.
Notes: I wrote this as a Christmas present for my dear friend corilannam, who listens to me rant and rave about Arthur all day and still likes me anyway. It's a sequel to For Worse or For Better, which you should read for the back story as some references to it are made. Thanks to S for the beta, especially during the holidays and to hanelissar for the britpick. Any further mistakes are mine alone.
Notes Part 2: If you do not like fluff, TURN AWAY NOW. This will probably rot your teeth. Seriously, I am almost embarrassed.
ETA: This has now been cleaned up a bit and beta'd by corilannam, so it's much cleaner. And the sentences may be shorter. Not that they ran on before, or anything. Much. *shifty eyes*
“The hell-?” Arthur muttered under his breath. He pushed at the front door, which had stopped after opening only about a foot. He peered through the space between it and the jamb and saw that it was a box that was blocking his entry.
“Merlin,” he called, “why on earth did you put this bloody box by the door?”
When no answer was forthcoming, he pulled back and set his shoulder against the door, giving it a mighty shove. It didn’t budge much, but it was enough for him to squeeze his body through. Scowling, he reached back into the hall for his briefcase, having dropped it so he could muscle into the flat. He started shrugging out of his coat, pausing when he saw the state of the hallway.
There were boxes everywhere, all open. Arthur frowned--he’d never gotten around to unpacking everything after his aborted move back to London. Most of it was stuff he didn’t really need. Why on earth was Merlin doing it now? The contents were scattered across the floor, which was also filthy and littered with--were those pine needles?
“Merlin!” he called again, louder, gingerly picking his way through the mess. There was a muffled thump this time, and after a moment Merlin’s head peeked around the wall from the sitting room.
“Arthur?”
“You were expecting someone else?” he asked, finally getting out of his blasted coat and nearly braining himself on the coat rack when he tripped over the vacuum.
“Oh, for-“
Merlin had the gall to laugh before sobering abruptly and saying, “Don’t move, I’ll be right there.”
“Merlin, I just want to-“
Arthur only managed another step before Merlin came hurtling into the hall.
“No, wait!” he said, literally skidding to a stop in front of Arthur as his socked feet slipped on the polished wood floor. And speaking of the floor…
“What on earth happened here? Why does it look like someone had a wrestling match with a Christmas tr-oh,” he stopped, looking at Merlin. “You didn’t.”
“You weren’t meant to be home until later. I was going to clean up before you got here.”
“Tristan cancelled the meeting,” Arthur replied absently, trying to see past Merlin into the rest of the flat. “What did you do?” Knowing Merlin, a tree was only the tip of the iceberg.
Merlin chewed on his lip for a moment before sighing. “All right fine, you can see. But first....”
Before he knew what’d happened, Merlin was next to him with one of his hands clapped over Arthur’s eyes.
“What-?“
“Shut up. It was supposed to be a surprise, so no peeking.”
Arthur huffed, but he let Merlin lead him around the remainder of the wreckage and out into the sitting room. He could smell it now, the fresh pine scent of the tree Merlin had somehow gotten up there. Merlin manoeuvred him about for a minute before stopping.
“All right,” he said, pulling his hand away, “have a look, then.”
Arthur blinked rapidly to clear his vision, and then again before he could fully process the scene before him.
The tree was tucked into the corner, next to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked Central Park. It was covered in beautiful baubles and soft white lights that twinkled out from between the branches. A lush red and green skirt fanned out from around the base, covered in neatly wrapped gifts.
It wasn’t just the tree, Arthur realized as he looked around. Merlin had strung lights up all around the sitting and dining rooms. The hearth was similarly adorned, with several large stockings hung in a row. It was beautiful, warm and domestic in a way that was so utterly Merlin.
It was the most recent in a long list of ways Merlin had taken Arthur’s previously cold and sterile life and turned it upside down without so much as a by your leave. It was still unfamiliar territory, dealing with all the emotions that crept up when Merlin did things that were exceptionally lovely. Merlin had helped tremendously in the three short months they’d been married, and he was learning, but sometimes it still overwhelmed him.
“Well?” Merlin asked, cautious.
“Where did you get all of this?” he asked in reply. Loveliness aside, he couldn’t help but be impressed. The amount Merlin had accomplished in a few short hours was amazing-it felt like a whole different flat from the one he’d left early that morning.
“Oh. Well, I started looked through all the boxes we were sending to storage, thinking you might have decorations,” he started, waving his arm in the general direction of the hallway, “but then Morgana told me you haven’t really celebrated the past few years. So I went out and bought it all.”
He’d spent the Christmases since his father’s death with Morgana and members of her family, but he’d never bothered decorating his own flat. He hadn't seen the point when he was the only one that would see it.
Merlin cleared his throat, drawing Arthur’s attention back. “I know we didn’t talk about it or anything, but I thought it’d be nice,” he said, “you know, for our first Christmas.” Which they were going to be spending in Ealdor, which was why it’d never occurred to Arthur to bring it up. “Do you like it? You didn’t say.”
He looked at Merlin, who was still disheveled from putting everything together. He had pine needles in his hair and stuck to Arthur’s Oxford rowing hoodie that he’d appropriated the minute he’d moved in. He looked ridiculous, and lovely, and Arthur tried not to think about how stupidly in love he was. Instead, he smiled a bit and said, “It’ll do, I suppose.”
Merlin’s answering grin was blinding, and Arthur knew that he understood everything Arthur meant but hadn’t said-that he loved it, that he loved him. He reached out and plucked a pine needle off Merlin’s shoulder and held it up.
“Oh,” Merlin said, a bit sheepish. “Yeah, we had a bit of a time getting the tree up here.”
“We?”
“Morgana. She helped.”
“That was nice of her,” Arthur said, loosening the knot on his tie. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to change into comfortable clothes and spend the rest of the evening tangled up on the sofa with Merlin.
“Yeah, she should be back any minute, actually. She went out to get some takeaway.”
Arthur groaned, his half-formed plans for the evening evaporating. Unless….
“Pity,” he said, nonchalant, as he started on the buttons of his shirt.
“Hmm?” Merlin said, eyes tracking his fingers' progress with no small amount of interest.
“I had-other plans for the evening.”
Merlin’s gaze flew up to meet his. “What other plans?”
Arthur just cocked an eyebrow and turned toward the bedroom, certain that Merlin would follow. Sure enough, he’d taken just a few steps into the room when Merlin wrapped around him from behind, his chin landing on Arthur’s shoulder.
“On second thought,” he said, “I'll ring Morgana. I don’t feel much like dinner after all.”
++++++++++
Arthur flipped through his tie rack, looking for the one Morgana had bought him for his birthday. “Merlin, have you seen my green Hermès tie?”
Merlin appeared in the doorway of their walk-in closet, a ring of toothpaste suds around his mouth. Rather than answering the question, he narrowed his eyes at Arthur.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled around his toothbrush.
“Getting dressed. Something that you should, perhaps, consider as well. Not that I don’t appreciate the view,” Arthur said, taking in Merlin’s bare torso and the way his hip bones jutted out over the waistband of his pyjama pants, “but that’s hardly appropriate for company.”
They were having a small Christmas gathering at the flat, just Morgana and his uncle Tristan, along with some work colleagues that Merlin was close to. Arthur himself wasn’t particularly close with anyone from work yet, though things had improved since the wedding. Merlin swore it was because being married to him gave Arthur street cred. Arthur was not at all convinced, and also despaired at the extent of Merlin’s Americanisation if he was using expressions like “street cred.”
Merlin’s glare only intensified. “Don’t move,” he said, pointing his toothbrush at Arthur before stomping off to their en suite. He was back a moment later, wiping a towel over his face.
“Right,” he said, dropping the towel into the hamper. “You are not wearing that.”
Arthur looked down at his crisp button down and suit trousers. “What? Why?”
“A suit? Really?”
“So? You love this suit!”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “For work. Arthur, you can’t wear a suit for your own Christmas do!”
“Why not? There will be people from work there! And the fact that we’re hosting it is all the more reason to look nice.”
Merlin stared at him for a moment, and then his face softened. “You really are unbearably posh, aren’t you?”
Arthur put his hands on his hips, not at all swayed by the fond look on Merlin’s face. Not one bit.
“Merlin.”
“You can look nice in casual clothes,” Merlin said, going through Arthur’s jumpers and pulling out his favourite, a deep red cashmere v-neck. “Here, wear this one.”
Arthur eyed it warily. “I don’t think-“
“The point is for people to get to know you outside of work. Now put it on,” he said, turning to Arthur’s section of trousers. Arthur started undoing his buttons with a heavy sigh.
“I could just hide in here all night and let you deal with everyone.”
“None of that. You agreed.”
He had, but he’d agreed after a blowjob. He’d probably agree to a hot poker through the eye after one of Merlin’s blowjobs.
“I was coerced.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time,” Merlin said, shooting a coy look back over his shoulder.
“Tart.”
“You love it,” was the reply, and then Merlin yanked a pair of jeans off a hanger. “These, too.”
Arthur pulled the jumper over his head and took the jeans from Merlin. When he was dressed, Merlin looked him over critically before reaching over to ruffle his hair.
“Perfect,” he said, grinning triumphantly.
Arthur tried very hard not to think about what his hair looked like. “Your turn!” he said, grabbing a pair of shoes and darting out into the bedroom.
When he was certain that Merlin was no longer paying him any mind, he went into the en suite and fixed his hair. He was just slipping on his shoes when the doorbell rang.
“That’ll be Morgana and Gwen,” Merlin called. “They’ve got the booze.”
“Thank fuck,” Arthur muttered. He’d definitely need a drink or two to get through the night.
***
“You know, you’re adapting to this whole marriage bit a lot better than I expected.”
Arthur darted a glance at Morgana, who’d just settled herself next to him against the island.
“What?”
“The whole jealous husband thing. You’ve got it down pat.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been glowering at Gwaine for the past half hour.”
Arthur felt his cheeks heat. “I have not.”
Morgana laughed outright at that. “Jealousy you do well, but you’re a shit liar, brother dear.”
“Step-brother,” Arthur muttered weakly, without heat. She was partially right after all; he’d been watching Gwaine talk to Merlin, but he’d certainly not been glowering. Arthur didn’t glower. Ever. Not even when impertinent little editing associates got overly hands-y with his (slightly drunk, Arthur suspected) husband.
“Whatever,” Morgana said, patting his cheek. “You’ve nothing to worry about. For some reason I cannot fathom, Merlin adores you. You know that.”
“Yes, but does he?” he asked, waving his glass in Gwaine’s direction before taking another sip, letting the scotch roll around in his mouth.
“Oh, I’m sure he does. When I left them, Merlin was telling everyone about your wedding night. In great detail.”
Arthur choked mid-swallow, turning around quickly before he sent scotch spewing everywhere.
“Fuck, that burns,” he managed when he finally got his coughing under control. Morgana was chuckling because she was, in fact, a horrible person.
“Oh, you are delightfully entertaining tonight.”
“Harpy,” he shot back, setting his glass on the counter and starting toward Merlin. He was fairly certain that Morgana was having him on; Merlin knew how closely Arthur guarded his personal life. However, he also knew how Merlin got when he drank, so he thought it best to assess the situation personally.
He plastered a smile on his face as he approached the group, which consisted of Merlin and Gwaine, another of the editors named Leon, and Gwen, who Merlin had picked as Arthur’s new assistant.
“Everyone’s having fun, I hope,” he said once he got within hearing distance. Merlin’s face lit up when he saw him, and Arthur’s stomach did a little flip-flop.
“Arthur!”
He slipped out from under the arm Gwaine had around his shoulders and wobbled over to Arthur, who caught him about the waist.
“How much have you had to drink, exactly?” Arthur asked, peering into his eyes. It’d been several hours since everyone had arrived and they’d both been busy mingling, so he hadn’t been able to pay close enough attention.
“You’re so handsome,” Merlin said, completely ignoring Arthur’s question. “Isn’t he so handsome?” he turned to ask the group.
“Yes, quite,” Leon said, lips quirking. Arthur actually did like Leon, having gotten to know him a bit over the past few months. From what Arthur could tell, he was a very good friend to Merlin, who was back to beaming at Arthur.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“I was just talking to Morgana,” Arthur replied. “She told me you were over here saying embarrassing things.”
“Oh no,” Gwen said. “He wasn’t, not at all.” Arthur rather liked her as well, even if Merlin had made sure she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him.
“I could, though,” Merlin said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I could tell them about the time we went suit shopping and you took me into the-“
“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Arthur said loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth. Leon and Gwen laughed loudly, and even Gwaine let out a small chuckle. Merlin was giggling as well, his eyes crinkled into slits as he tried to pull Arthur’s hand away from his face.
“Are you going to behave?” Arthur asked. Merlin nodded, so he removed his hand, keeping it hovering nearby as a precaution. Merlin just stepped to Arthur’s side and slid an arm around his waist, his cheek landing against Arthur’s shoulder.
They were careful to keep work separate from their personal lives, so they weren’t usually affectionate around work colleagues. Arthur was feeling quite relaxed, though, so he dropped a quick kiss to Merlin’s head, whispering a fond, “Idiot,” against his hair.
He felt Merlin’s cheek shift as he grinned.
***
Later, when all the guests were gone and everything was clean, Arthur set about getting ready for bed. When he came out of the en suite, Merlin was watching him from where he’d sprawled out over the duvet. Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Look at you,” he said. “Go on, then, budge up.”
He manoeuvred Merlin around enough to get the bedding out from under him. Before he could pull it back up, though, Merlin grabbed him about the bicep and tugged. Caught by surprise, Arthur fell forward, catching himself with his arms on either side of Merlin’s shoulders.
“What-?“
“You know that I wouldn’t-that I’d never do anything with Gwaine, yeah?”
Arthur’s knees gave out and he sat down abruptly. “I-“
“I saw you with Morgana,” Merlin said, sitting up so suddenly that Arthur had to jerk back to avoid getting smashed in the nose by Merlin’s face.
“I know I said it was like that once,” he continued, referring to a conversation they’d had soon after the wedding where Merlin had admitted that he and Gwaine had dated briefly, “but it’s not like that anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
He grabbed Arthur’s waist and pulled until he slid forward so Merlin could wrap his arms around him, pressing his face against Arthur’s neck. Arthur’s hand automatically went to the back of Merlin’s head to hold him there, carding his fingers through Merlin’s hair.
“It was because of you,” Merlin mumbled against his neck, so low that Arthur almost didn’t hear him.
“Me? What do you mean?”
Merlin laughed. “We would go out and all I would do was talk about you-it was mostly complaining at the time-and eventually he said that he wasn’t interested in a threesome, so we decided to just be friends.”
“And you didn’t object?”
“No. I guess I knew, even back then,” Merlin said, sighing.
“Knew what?”
“About you and me. About us.”
Arthur continued stroking his fingers through the hair at Merlin’s nape, letting it curl around his fingers. He had no idea how to respond; Merlin had a knack for knocking him completely off kilter. He knew Merlin wouldn’t be saying any of this if he were sober, but Arthur coveted it anyway, as he did any proof that Merlin felt as strongly for him as he did for Merlin. Also, he was rather pleased at the role he’d played in breaking him and Gwaine up, even if he’d had no idea of it at the time.
“I know you wouldn’t,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “I trust you.”
Merlin sat up then, smiling at him, knowing that Arthur didn’t give his trust away easily.
“Good,” he said, leaning forward and nudging his lips against Arthur’s, resting a hand against Arthur’s chest as they kissed. He made a surprised noise when he felt Arthur’s skin, as though he’d only just realized that Arthur was shirtless. He pulled back and gave Arthur a blatant once-over.
“Hello,” he said, cheeky, his smile quickly shifting from fond to wicked. He kissed Arthur again, deeper and quite a bit dirtier, and it took all of Arthur’s willpower to pull back.
“You’re drunk,” he said when Merlin pouted.
“Not that much. Besides,” he said, his fingers tracking the waistband of Arthur’s boxer briefs across his stomach, “as my husband, I believe you are duty bound to take advantage of me whenever the opportunity presents itself.”
Arthur swallowed when Merlin’s fingers found their way under the waistband and then lower.
“Hmm,” he eventually managed, “you may be right.”
Merlin grinned, leaning in once more.
++++++++++
Arthur stared out the window of the small plane at the mountaintops breaking through the clouds. They were on the final leg of their journey to Ealdor, where they’d spend Christmas and New Year’s before returning to New York in two weeks’ time.
“What about Italy? Ooh, or Spain? I’ve always wanted to go to Barcelona,” Merlin was saying next to him as he flipped through a huge travel magazine.
Morgana, in a display of generosity that’d surprised even Arthur, had gifted them with two round-trip airline tickets to any destination of their choosing. She'd ignored their protests, stating that they’d never had a proper honeymoon and deserved to get away together. Arthur was letting Merlin choose the destination; he’d never been anywhere but England and America. Arthur had been all over Europe and parts of the tropics already.
“Spain is gorgeous,” Morgana said from her seat across the aisle, “though I’ll warn you right now, Arthur’s Spanish is horrid.”
Arthur spared a moment to shoot her a glare. Merlin just laughed, nudging him gently. They’d exchanged gifts with her early, thinking she’d be flying back to England. When her plans had fallen through, Merlin had immediately invited her to Ealdor.
His thoughts turned to the imminent reunion with Merlin’s family. While he and Merlin had talked and moved on, Arthur wasn’t so sure Merlin’s family had done the same. He’d spoken with both Hunith and Gaius a few times since then, and they'd been pleasant enough. He’d sensed an underlying tension, though, and he wasn’t sure if he was projecting or if they truly were harbouring grudges. Not that he could blame them; he was still appalled by the way he’d acted.
“You’re being quiet,” Merlin said, his chin landing on Arthur’s shoulder and breaking him out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Arthur said, clearing his throat when it came out hoarse. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Things. Nothing specific.”
Merlin lifted his head, and Arthur could feel the scrutiny. “You’re nervous,” he said after a moment.
“I am not.”
“Liar. You are,” Merlin said around a jaw-cracking yawn. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from my 75 year-old grandfather and tiny slip of a mother.”
Arthur glared at his sleepy husband. “Shut up, Merlin.”
Merlin just chuckled, because it always amused him when Arthur was cross with him. He reached over and took Arthur’s hand, pulling it into his lap and wrapping both his hands around it. He shifted until he was close enough to drop his head onto Arthur’s shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Merlin said. “How could they possibly resist you when you’re so charming all the time?”
Arthur elbowed him in the sternum in retaliation, but he didn’t pull away. After a moment he shifted to rest his cheek against Merlin’s hair.
He glanced over at Morgana, who was watching them with a fond look on her face. She’d taken to doing that whenever they showed any kind of affection in front of her. Arthur knew she was just happy for him, so he gave her a small smile and then settled in for the remainder of the journey.
++++++++++
Arthur yawned and scratched at his stomach through the t-shirt he’d worn to sleep. He looked up at the clock and groaned-4:00 a.m., and he was downstairs in the kitchen making tea.
They were three days into their trip, and it was very early on Christmas Eve. So far, everything had gone smoothly. Morgana was completely in love with both Hunith and Gaius, and they with her, so between her and Merlin he was never alone with either of them for long.
He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous-Hunith’s greeting at the airport had been warm, as was Gaius’s upon their arrival. They’d both been lovely, but he just couldn’t shake the tension he felt around them. Merlin mocked him relentlessly about it.
“Really, Arthur, there’s no reason to scurry away when you see my mum coming,” he’d said on one occasion, laughing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I didn’t ‘scurry,’” he’d said. And he hadn’t. He’d just-abruptly changed the direction in which he’d been walking.
Merlin had just shaken his head and kissed Arthur on the cheek. “You’re the one being ridiculous. They adore you.”
“They get that from you, I suppose,” Arthur had replied. Adore him? Certainly not.
At which point Merlin had called him “tolerable,” which had led to Arthur shoving him. A violent wrestling match had ensued, during which they'd knocked over a vase and received a stern lecture from Hunith about behaving like ruffians in the house.
And really, he thought sheepishly, that probably hadn’t helped his cause.
He yawned again and pulled a mug down from the cupboard. He was searching for the tea bags when he heard a voice behind him.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He jumped a bit, turning to see Hunith standing in the doorway. “Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine. No, I’m fine, actually, the tea is for Merlin,” he babbled. Bloody hell, he wasn’t mentally equipped to deal with Hunith at four in the morning.
She arched an eyebrow. “He sent you to make him tea at this hour?”
“Oh, no,” Arthur replied, finally locating the tea. “He’s been tossing and turning all night; I don’t think he’s feeling well.” He paused to pour the boiling water into the mug and over the teabag. “I think he ate too much at dinner, so I thought I’d make him some tea to settle his stomach.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said. “He's lucky he has you to take care of him.”
Arthur watched as the water grew darker, the sweet scent of chamomile wafting up and soothing him a bit. He wasn’t sure how to respond to her comment, so he just made a noncommittal sound while waiting for the tea to steep. He heard Hunith sigh.
“Arthur,” she started, and he couldn’t help the tensing of his shoulders. She must’ve noticed because she said, “I’m not going to yell at you.”
He tried not to wince, waiting for the but.
“I won’t lie and say that I would’ve been this calm had you been standing in front of me four months ago,” she said, and that made him feel better, knowing that she’d been angry, that she’d wanted to yell at him, because he deserved that. “But we’ve honestly made our peace with it. How could we not, when Merlin is so happy?”
“I just wish that I could show you how truly sorry I am about everything that happened.”
She moved closer, resting a hand on his arm. “Arthur, you’re standing in my kitchen at four in the morning making tea for my over-indulged son. Don’t you think that says something?”
“Yes,” he said eventually, “I suppose that it does.”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here.”
“I’m not,” he said quickly. “I actually quite like it here.”
“Good. Now take that upstairs to Merlin. If he doesn’t get at least a few hours sleep, we’ll all be suffering tomorrow.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, picking up the mug. “Thank you, Hunith.”
“You’re welcome. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Me or Gaius.”
He paused, an idea he’d been mulling over for a while popping into his head.
“Actually, there is something I could use some help with.”
***
After making arrangements with Hunith, Arthur took Merlin’s tea upstairs. Much to his delight, they’d been given the same bedroom they’d occupied on their first visit. He closed the door behind him. Merlin was sitting up on the bed with his arms wrapped around his middle, looking decidedly green. He looked so pathetic that Arthur had to laugh, which earned him a glare.
“You are the worst husband ever, you know?”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Here I am, obviously suffering-“
“Not my fault.”
“-and you just disappear, and then you come back and laugh at me.”
And really, Merlin could pout with the best of them when he set his mind to it. Arthur lifted the mug he was holding.
“I ‘disappeared’ down to the kitchen to make you some tea.”
Merlin perked up a bit. “Tea?”
“Yes, chamomile for your stomach. But since I’m such a terrible husband….”
“Who said that?” Merlin asked, reaching his hands out for the mug. “Obviously they had no idea what they were talking about.”
“Obviously,” Arthur replied, smug, as he walked the tea over to Merlin’s side of the bed, handing it to him. He ran his hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to flatten his horrendous bed head. Merlin took a sip and groaned.
“Urgh. My stomach. Food is evil.”
“Yes, the way all those mince pies leapt up off the table and crammed themselves down your throat was dastardly.”
That earned him another glare, though he leaned into Arthur’s petting. “Yes, yes, mock my pain.”
“Your ‘pain’ has kept me up all night as well, you know.”
“We’re married,” Merlin said, setting the mug down on the bedside table and pulling at Arthur’s hand. “What’s mine is yours.”
“I don’t think that’s quite what that means,” Arthur said, letting Merlin manhandle him onto the bed. He wound up propped against the headboard with Merlin between his legs, his back to Arthur’s chest. He took Arthur’s right hand and slipped it up under his sleep shirt, placing it against the warm skin of his belly.
“You’re completely pathetic, you realize,” Arthur said as he started rubbing his hand in slow, soothing circles. Merlin let out a content sigh, picking his tea up again.
“Whatever you say, just don’t stop.”
He didn’t, not until Merlin’s head sank back onto his shoulder, his empty mug tumbling to the mattress from his relaxed grip. Arthur retrieved it and set it aside before manoeuvring out from under Merlin, who made an unhappy noise but didn’t otherwise stir.
As he settled in next to him to try and get at least a few hours sleep, Arthur thought that maybe Hunith and Morgana were right: perhaps he wasn’t too bad at this whole husband lark after all.
++++++++++
Hunith, it turned out, made the best mulled wine that Arthur had ever tasted. As a result, he drank quite a lot of it before, during, and after Christmas Eve dinner and was now lounging on some large throw pillows on the floor in the den. Everyone else had already retired; it was just him and Merlin left. The fire was crackling in the hearth and Merlin was propped against him, reading. Arthur couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so utterly content.
He must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, the grandfather clock in the hallway was chiming midnight. His eyes popped open.
“Merlin?” he asked, groggy, looking around.
“Here,” Merlin said, coming out of the dining room. “Had to hide the rest of the trifle, or Gaius would’ve gotten into it and we’d be fetching him from the middle of the lake.”
Arthur smiled at the image. Merlin dropped down next to him and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Happy Christmas.”
“You, too. Sorry I fell asleep,” Arthur said, rubbing his eyes. Merlin just smiled down at him.
“You were up all night with me and then had a long day. Where did you get off to with my mum for so long, anyway?”
Arthur chewed on his lower lip, looking up at Merlin for a moment before rolling onto his side and pushing up off the floor. Merlin looked up at him, startled.
“Where are you-“
“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
He took the stairs two at a time, moving quietly so as not to wake anyone. Once in their room, he reached into his coat pocket for the small velvet box he’d stashed there earlier. He lifted it out, staring down at it and debating.
He hadn’t been sure how he was going to present it to Merlin, but he was never more comfortable than when it was just the two of them. Also, it was technically Christmas now, so it was as good a time as any. He closed his fingers tightly around it and turned to go back downstairs. Merlin looked up when he came back into the den.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Arthur said, moving to sit on the cushion in front of him, suddenly nervous. This was going to be ridiculously sentimental no matter what he did, so he just lifted his hand, presenting the box to Merlin, who blinked at it.
“What is that?”
“Open it.”
Merlin plucked the box from his palm and opened it, gaping down at the contents.
Nestled inside were two platinum rings, identical except that one was slightly narrower than the other.
When they’d gotten married, things had been so rushed that they hadn't had time to worry about what kind of rings they wanted. Merlin had run out and gotten the quickest and easiest rings he could find, simple gold bands. They’d agreed to look into replacing them at a later date.
Arthur had been contemplating it for a while, but he hadn’t made up his mind until his conversation with Hunith in the kitchen. When he’d told her what he wanted to do, she’d immediately agreed to help. They’d driven to a jeweller friend of hers a few towns over who specialized in unique wedding bands. She helped him choose these: adorned with a Celtic maze design and black antiquing, they’d been sized and ready within a few hours.
Merlin was still staring down at them, speechless, so Arthur started talking nervously to fill the silence.
“There are other gifts, obviously, for when everyone exchanges later on, but I thought it should be just the two of us for this, seeing as it’s a bit personal and all. I thought it’d be a nice surprise, and then Hunith knew someone who’d do them right away-“
Merlin’s head finally lifted at that. “This is where the two of you went today? To get these?”
Arthur nodded. “If you don’t like them, we can always-“
“Are you mad? Of course I like them, Arthur; they’re beautiful. I just-I-“
“I know we talked about getting them together,” Arthur said, encouraged, “but the ones we have now, I hate them so much. They make me feel as though, I don’t know, this whole thing is temporary, and I-“
“What?” Merlin asked when Arthur hesitated. “You what?”
“I don’t want it to be,” he answered, cheeks warming as he rubbed his finger over the brocade on one of the cushions. “Temporary.”
Merlin was silent for a moment, studying Arthur so intently that he started to fidget.
“Look-“
He was cut off suddenly by a lapful of Merlin, still clutching the box in one hand, his other arm wrapping around Arthur’s shoulders. Merlin, who was kissing him and kissing him, anywhere he could reach. Arthur tried to keep them upright, but their combined weight was too much, and gravity eventually won as they toppled backwards.
“I know, I know,” Merlin was mumbling over and over against Arthur’s lips, “I don’t want that either. I haven’t ever wanted that, not even when I thought it was all for show.”
“Fuck,” Arthur said, grabbing onto Merlin tighter, “Merlin.”
“What, here?” Merlin asked, lifting his head to grin down at Arthur. “We should probably take that kind of thing upstairs.”
Arthur stared back at him for a moment, his heart so full he thought it might burst right out of his chest. “Idiot,” he finally said, pulling Merlin’s head back down so he could keep kissing him. Merlin laughed.
“I love you, too.”