14 Days of A/G:Fic:Three Lions On The Shirt
Title: Three Lions On The Shirt
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Guinevere
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (swear words used)
Spoilers: Nope
Disclaimer: still own absolutely nothing
Summary: AU modern, Gwen’s had enough of football.
Word Count: 3,963
Author’s notes: for Camelot_love’s 14 days of love. Prompt was U-3. It's two weeks into the football world cup and Gwen definitely has had enough of all the footie.Every.bloody.day! And was prompted by purely_distel had a lot of fun with this one, and it was my first crack at an AU as well so that was cool. I hope you all enjoy it. Comments are ♥
Three Lions On The Shirt
“COME ON REF ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND THAT WAS A BLATANT FOUL!!!!!”
Gwen rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time as Arthur’s booming voice echoed around their shared flat, piercing though her eardrums, making her head ring. Gwen was pretty sure you could hear it all the way to bloody South Africa where the flipping match and damn football world cup was being held. She sighed as Arthur threw his arms up in the air and turned to look at her, eyes wide, jaw tense, disbelief and anger reading clear on his face.
“Did you see that?!?!?! That was a DEFINITE FOUL!! REF IS FUCKING BLIND!!”
Gwen popped her head out from under the book she was currently trying to read, nodded her head briskly and ummmed, not that she even knew what the hell she was agreeing too but she’d learnt over the years that when it came to football it was best just to agree with everything Arthur said. Disagreeing, even if you’re right would result in a stupid unnecessary augment. It was a well know fact that Arthur was touchy when he was watching a game, touchy really didn’t cover it actually, more completely and utterly unreasonable and sensitive and that was when it wasn’t England, with England it was three lions worse.
Merlin had learnt that the hard way during the last world cup when he had said he thought Portugal deserved to win against England, who subsequently knocked them out because they really had been the better team in terms of play. Arthur had literally thrown him out on his arse and not spoken to him for a month, only agreeing to forgive him after Merlin had apologised about a hundred times and claimed he didn’t know why he said that and it must have been the beer and bitter disappointment that they made it so close again but still been so far away. Then and only then would Arthur agree to talk to him; that and Gwen had threatened to not sleep with him until he did. Gwen smirked as she remembered but her smirk quickly turned into a grimace as Arthur let out another almighty yell as he leapt up from the couch as Lampard shot the ball towards the goal but it bounced off the post and back to the defending player.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!! AHHHHHH, SO CLOSE!!! COME ON GUYS!!!” clapping his hands wildly Arthur sat back down taking a swing from his glass which was filled up to the brim with beer and had inscribed on it in frosted lettering “Football’s not a matter of life and death …it’s more important than that”, a thoughtful I’m sorry, please don’t kill me gift from Merlin after the whole Portugal vs England fiasco. Causally Gwen glanced at the screen wondering how long she’d have to survive, still 0-0 and a whole 60 minutes left. 60 minutes of Arthur screaming at the telly...great.
Gwen was beginning to understand why the world cup was only held every four years; the rate of murders would surely rise massively if people had to put up with this every year. It had been fine to start off with; she’d even been excited over it herself, mainly because Arthur had been bursting at the seams with joy and his delight was quite infectious, especially when he was smiling every day, blue eyes agleam and brought her endless amounts of roses, red and white colours of England, talking about how wonderful it was going to be; how he had a real good feeling about England’s chances of success and it was just the icing on the cake that he got to share and enjoy the whole thing with her by his side.
So for the first few games Gwen had happily plopped down next to him, gotten up to fetch him a beer at half time, made sure the munchy dish was full of crisps, peanuts, twiglets and other such nibbly bits. However the novelty had soon worn off and the reality of the situation had become extremely apparent. Football had taken over Arthur’s life and subsequently hers as well. If he wasn’t watching football, he was talking about it. How someone could divert every blooming conversation back into football was a skill, an extremely annoying, makes you want to kill the person skill but a skill none the less. What really took the cake though was when she’d woken up one night to find the bed absent of his presence and heard the noise of the T.V. When she had gotten up to discover what he was up to she’d found him laid on the couch in his boxers, beer in one hand, handful of crisps in the other, munchy dish balancing on his abs watching the football highlights of the bloody game he’d already watched earlier that day. It was beyond ridiculous, the man had a serious problem.
All Gwen wanted to do was curl up on the coach in her own home, read her book in peace without going deaf from all the shouting and constant buzz of whistles, cheers and the two commentators who droned on and on; half the time not even talking about the game but about how so and so had a new girlfriend; as if she cared about that. I mean was that really such a terrible thing to ask for, apparently so, as the T.V began buzzing from the roar of the crowd as England began making their way to their opponent’s goal. As the players got closer Arthur began creeping forward on the couch, ready to jump up at any moment, eyes opened wide. The commentators’ voices where growing louder with anticipation as well.
“Terry moves on down the right”
“He passes to Cole, oh and what a pass Cole makes, straight into the path of Rooney, that’s what we want to see!”
“Rooney’s making his way now oh but Cesar’s closing in on him, you’ll remember that Cesar and Rooney had that big clash in September 09”
Here they go again, more propaganda Gwen thought to herself, rolling her eyes up towards the heavens heaving a sigh.
“That’s right Tim, nasty stuff, Cesar suffered an ankle injury that kept him out of the game for while, but he’s back and by the looks of things he’s in great shape. He’s stolen the ball back with a fantastic tackle”
“Great skill and that’s another opportunity lost for England.”
“FUCK!!!” Arthur slumped back against the couch wringing his hands through his hair, before grabbing and taking another long swing out of his glass. The commentators continued to drone on.
“I suppose you also recall Bob that Cesar claimed that Rooney deliberately tried to injure him in that match and swore they’d make this game an unpleasant experience for him.”
“And I think he’s doing just that as he passes to Koren, who passes to Vrsic, who passes to Lavric.”
“There getting close to the goal now, England need to sort out their defence, Solvenia are looking good and they’re finding holes”
“Quite right Tim, there’s been lots of missed opportunities from both sides already”
“DEFEND!!! DEFEND!!!! TACKLE HIM!!! TERRY GET YOUR ARSE IN HIS WAY!!!!!” Arthur screamed madly gesturing frantically at T.V, presumably Gwen supposed, to the spot where Terry was supposed to be.
How Arthur was even keeping up with all this shouting Gwen would never know, by all accounts his voice surely must be red raw; he’d been at this for two weeks now, not missing one game. Not one game, I mean heaven forbid they actually do something productive. No, instead she had to sit here listening to football, she knew she could go out…but what the hell was she going to do on her own and how much fun would that be.
Morgana was off gallivanting somewhere or other, campaigning against the injustices of the world. Gwen had forgotten where she actually was at the moment, she changed countries so often. She missed her friend greatly, missed the random meet ups for coffee, watching Dirty Dancing and trying to get all the dance moves down but ending up falling over each other’s feet and becoming a giggling mess on the floor. Gwen missed having someone to talk to about girly things like how gorgeous that dress is; how stupid boys can be sometimes and how Haagen Daz is a gift from the gods. She couldn’t really do that with Arthur, Merlin…well maybe Merlin but it wasn’t the same. Still at least Morgana kept in regular contact via emails, texts and amusing webcam chats that somehow always ended up with them playing charades, god knows why.
No Gwen was alone in her fight, drowning in game after game with no sign of a let up; there was AGES to go until the end was finally here. Only two weeks, Gwen could hardly believe it had only been such a short length of time, it felt like years. She let out another deep sigh, she was getting nowhere with this book, five times she’d read the same line. Time to find something else. Standing up and leaving her book on the table, Gwen wondered off to get herself a glass of water. Just as she was running the tap Arthur stood up and kicked the table with a loud kathump making her jump and drop the glass into the sink, luckily it didn’t break.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Gwen turned looking over her shoulder frowning, she loved that table; it had been her bargain buy and lucky find in that old antique store down the road. It had beautiful carvings round the sides depicting scenes of medieval knights and ladies, he’d better not have damaged it, that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Gwen noticed that the Slovenian team where celebrating and the score in the corner now read 1-0 to Slovenia. That was the cause of the outburst then she realised, but that still didn’t give him the right to abuse the furniture. Gwen coughed loudly, Arthur didn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on the T.V so she coughed again, louder this time.
“WEAK, WEAK GOAL!!!” proclaimed Arthur as he turned to face Gwen, his facial expression indicated that he was confused at her dark expression. Gwen continued to stare at him. Shaking his head from side to side slowly Arthur shrugged his shoulders signifying that he was till unaware of why she looked pissed and wasn’t going to get it unless she explained. Gwen threw a glance to the table then looked back at Arthur, lips pursed and eyebrows raised. Arthur followed her gaze and looked at the table still bemused; then suddenly his face broke out into a sheepish grin and he flash her a look that said ‘I’m such a cute little puppy please don’t hurt me’.
“Sorry, didn’t mean too, just got a bit over well you know...” he threw his arms out in a flippant gesture.
“Uh huh,” Gwen replied unimpressed. “Just could you try and not destroy the furniture, please.” She strained out rubbing her forehead.
“Sure thing won’t happen again, I am sorry I……COME ON!!! GET BACK UP THERE BOYS!! YES, THAT’S IT!! KEEP GOING!!”
Gwen let out an all mighty sigh, pinching at the bridge of her nose and rolled her eyes; he was hopeless and all this shouting was giving her a massive headache. She took a long slip of water whilst walking towards the cupboards. Maybe some food would help and some paracetamal, she’d been quite dependant on that little pill for a while now, two weeks exactly. Gwen set down her glass down, after gulping down the paracetamal and pulled out two plates from the cupboard, along with a knife from the drawer and the bread and butter. Turning her back on the ongoing match Gwen tried to ignore the continuing rumble of noise. She was just about to ask Arthur if he wanted something to eat as well; not that she doubted he would, the man could eat for England, but as she was turning she gathered it wasn’t the best time as she could see Arthur was now hoping up and down like a frog on acid. From what Gwen could make out of the tiny burly figures it looked like England were about to score. Her suspicions where confirmed when suddenly Arthur sprang off the couch leaping up into the air fist pumping as he did so.
“WHAT A GOAL; WHAT! A! GOAL!!” Gwen couldn’t help but smile a little at his over excited reaction. He was such a child.
“Would you like a sandwich?” Gwen called out when he had somewhat subsided from his yells of ‘Hell yeah’ and now was just mumbling ‘That’s what I’m talking about’ ‘Let’s get another one’ to himself while rubbing his hands in a manner that remind Gwen of Mr Burns exxxxxcelllllllllllent.
“Huh?” Arthur called back not tuning from the T.V “Get back at them boys!”
“Sandwich?”
“Yeah”
“What do you want?”
“Sounds great”
Gwen gritted her teeth.
“No I asked what you want?”
Arthur’s voice was vague as he answered back, still not turning his gaze off from the T.V.
“Huh?”
Sighing deeply Gwen bit down on her lip, resisting every urge to go over there and wallop him over the head.
“What. Do.You. Want? She elongated each syllable through grinding teeth, her arms crossed firmly over the chest, as if trying to squeeze back the anger threatening to overflow.
“What are you talking about?”
That was it! Gwen let out a loud frustrated groan and spoke; her voice quite but threatening and tense.
“You know what, do it yourself, you prat.”
Arthur perplexed but sensing he was in big trouble turned his attention off of the T.V and faced Gwen completely, looking her over. She was not happy that was for sure. Her mouth was doing that thing where it looked like it may disappear entirely; she was pursing them together so much. Her arms where folded across her chest tightly, a knife in one hand. Arthur was suddenly very anxious and aware of the weapon in her hand. Her stance was rigid, facial expression icy and hard. The phrase ‘If looks could kill’ ran through his mind, ‘Never mind looks, what about that knife’. Why did she have a knife in her hand anyway Arthur wondered and then he noticed the plates, butter and bread. Ahhhh that was why….whoops, first the table now this….he was definitely being put in the dog house or more he was walking willingly into it. Ok time to turn this situation around, he thought to himself as he stood up from his sitting positing and putting on his best charming face and voice, walked towards Gwen.
Gwen hesitated as he walked towards her, knowing full well what that look meant. He was going to try and be all cute with her now. Well you just try it mister see how it works out for you.
“How about I help you with those sandwiches”
Letting his arm brush against and around Gwen’s waist and planting a kiss into her dark curls Arthur moved around her and to the fridge pulling it open flashing a smile over his shoulder; Gwen stepped away and out of the embrace, determined not to let him get away with it that easily. Arthur flinched just a little at her coldness but brushed it off, saying instead.
“Ham and salad ok?”
“Mmmm” she replied turning her back on the T.V and concentrated on cutting the bread.
Arthur withdrew from the fridge ingredients in hand and set them down on the counter Gwen was working on facing away from the T.V. Gwen was a little surprised by that; scratch that, she was GREATLY shocked; he was actually not going to watch the football… was he ill? Resisting the urge to check his temperature Gwen took the tomatoes, cucumber and lecture he was handing her and ran them under the cool water, washing them.
Arthur moved so that he was now behind Gwen and reached above her mass of dark hair opening the cupboard carefully making sure Gwen had ducked down enough so as not to get hit, he placed his hand across the edge of the door just in case. From within he took down the mustard.
“Don’t worry I won’t put mustard on yours, I know you don’t like it and I’ll butter the bread so that it’s all the way at the edges just the way my baby likes it.” Arthur bent down over her shoulder kissing her check and nuzzling into her hair.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re playing at.” Gwen retorted pushing back against him with her back with such force that he stumbled back slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” feigning ignorance Arthur set to work.
Despite her best efforts to stay mad at him, Gwen’s resolve was evaporating quickly as Arthur playfully elbowed her and bumped her hips with his as they worked in a conveyor belt way, while she bit on her lip to stop from smiling. Arthur: butter bread, spread mustard on (only on his), add ham …Gwen: cut tomatoes and cucumber, add them and then the lettuce. Regardless of the fact she was biting on her lip and repeating the phrase I will not give in, I won’t give in, Gwen soon found her self grinning as Arthur began singing. True it was a football song ‘It’s coming home, it’s coming home’ and that was annoying but when he was doing it in an operatic voice rather than a chant, Gwen found herself not minding, especially since listening to Arthur trying to reach soprano notes was hysterical and really just too much for Gwen. Before she could even try to stop herself she was laughing so hard that she had to clutch onto the counter as her other hand clutched at her side as she tried to regain composure and breathe. Arthur, pleased that he had finally gotten a smile out of her, laughed with her, grabbing her around her waist and turning her towards him teasing her.
“Is that a smile I see? I think it is…”
“Shut up” Gwen said breathlessly trying to rid her voice of the gleeful tone and get it back to the I’m going to cut you into little pieces tone, pushing at Arthur’s shoulders trying to wriggle her way out of his arms but Arthur was too strong for her.
“Uh huh no you don’t.”
Pulling her in closer Arthur picked Gwen up, sweeping her clean off her feet and popped her down on the opposite counter, so that he was facing into the living room area while her back was still turned from it. Leaning in Arthur made to kiss her but Gwen turned her head so that his lips meet her cheek instead.
“No, I’m mad at you”
Crossing her arms across her chest as if to enforce this statement, or really more to convince herself, Gwen turned away from him. She could feel Arthur half smirk into her skin.
“No you’re not”
“Yes I am, how would you know anyway?” she huffed turning to look at him, big mistake.
“You can’t be mad at me, you love me.” Arthur replied grinning at her in his boyish way and winking. What was he like? Gwen rolled her eyes pretending that that boyish grin didn’t melt her insides.
“Just because I love you, doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.” Gwen practically spoke shuffling on the counter finding a more comfortable position. Arthur smirked at her voice and leant into her, arms placing themselves either side of her legs, so that he was slowly but surely edging his way in between them, though Gwen made a weak attempt to deny his access.
“So you do love me” his voice was mischievous.
“No” she answered flatly. She was not going to give in, she wasn’t.
Arthur chuckled and nudged his face into her neck, kissing it lightly and bringing his hands up onto her legs rubbing them up and down.
“Yes you do, you just said, you love me” He looked up at her brushing his nose against hers, smiling. Gwen turned her head away from him again, sighing. Nope she was not going to give into that grin or those big blue eyes, or that voice that was both smooth and rough and made her stomach do back flips. Gwen gulped, no she was not.
“You loooooovvvveeee me” Arthur sing songed into her ear, his breath tickling her and voice so childlike and smug that she half wanted to giggle like a school girl and half wanted to kick him where it hurt.
“No, I don’t.” She grumbled really trying hard not to grin but unable to stop the edges of her lips from curling upwards ever so slightly but Arthur saw and it only strengthen his determination to crack her.
“Ouuuuu wuvvvv eeeee, ouuu wuvvv eeee” he repeated over and over in his best baby voice, while he slowly traced his nose along her ear onto her check, down to her neck and then finally bringing his gaze to meet Gwen’s. Her resolve was literally gone anyway but the moment those big shinning puppy dog blue eyes came into view she crumbled, sighing she relented.
“Fine, I love you.”
But Arthur was apparently having a little too much fun in his game because he shook his head, making his hair flop about and pouted.
“Uh uh you don’t love me…you wuvvv eee.”
Gwen couldn’t help it; he looked so adorable, she giggled but shook her head from side to side.
“Say it, say you wuvvv eeee” Arthur ran his hands up and down the material of her jeans while keeping his baby look pout face on. Gwen’s resounding laugh trickled into the air. She swung her arms upwards bringing them down onto Arthur’s shoulders with a gentle thump. Making her eyes match Arthur’s in child like wonder she pouted back giggling as she spoke.
“I wuuuuuvvv ouuuuu”
Arthur half smirked, half beamed and captured her lips in his, both of them laughing into the embrace. Gwen tighten her grip around his shoulders pulling him in closer while Arthur ran his hands up from where they’d been resting on her legs to her lower back sliding her closer to him and onto the edge of the counter. Pulling back he whispered into her mouth.
“I wuuvvv ouuu oooo” Gwen laughed joyfully yanking him back towards her by the base of his neck with a “You’re such an idiot” and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Just as things where taking a turn for…well for the bedroom; Arthur suddenly pulled back abruptly much to Gwen’s displeasure and protested moans.
“Oh second half’s about to start” kissing her lips quickly Arthur detangled himself from a shocked Gwen, grabbed his sandwich, kissed her again mumbling a ‘Thanks for the food, finish this later’ and ran back to the T.V at double speed. Gwen sat on the counter for a while completely shell-shocked, so that explained why he’d come to help her, bloody first half had ended, she knew there was something fishy when he’d turned his back to the T.V. Looking over her shoulder she saw him take a huge bit out of his sandwich, shouting with a full mouthful.
“GET UP THERE, COME ON WE CAN DO IT.”
And begin to clap his hands wildly again, perfectly calm and serene as if they weren’t just having a full out make out session and he’d gone and left her all hot and bothered. Gwen shook her head.
Un-fucking believable
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Guinevere
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (swear words used)
Spoilers: Nope
Disclaimer: still own absolutely nothing
Summary: AU modern, Gwen’s had enough of football.
Word Count: 3,963
Author’s notes: for Camelot_love’s 14 days of love. Prompt was U-3. It's two weeks into the football world cup and Gwen definitely has had enough of all the footie.Every.bloody.day! And was prompted by purely_distel had a lot of fun with this one, and it was my first crack at an AU as well so that was cool. I hope you all enjoy it. Comments are ♥
Three Lions On The Shirt
“COME ON REF ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND THAT WAS A BLATANT FOUL!!!!!”
Gwen rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time as Arthur’s booming voice echoed around their shared flat, piercing though her eardrums, making her head ring. Gwen was pretty sure you could hear it all the way to bloody South Africa where the flipping match and damn football world cup was being held. She sighed as Arthur threw his arms up in the air and turned to look at her, eyes wide, jaw tense, disbelief and anger reading clear on his face.
“Did you see that?!?!?! That was a DEFINITE FOUL!! REF IS FUCKING BLIND!!”
Gwen popped her head out from under the book she was currently trying to read, nodded her head briskly and ummmed, not that she even knew what the hell she was agreeing too but she’d learnt over the years that when it came to football it was best just to agree with everything Arthur said. Disagreeing, even if you’re right would result in a stupid unnecessary augment. It was a well know fact that Arthur was touchy when he was watching a game, touchy really didn’t cover it actually, more completely and utterly unreasonable and sensitive and that was when it wasn’t England, with England it was three lions worse.
Merlin had learnt that the hard way during the last world cup when he had said he thought Portugal deserved to win against England, who subsequently knocked them out because they really had been the better team in terms of play. Arthur had literally thrown him out on his arse and not spoken to him for a month, only agreeing to forgive him after Merlin had apologised about a hundred times and claimed he didn’t know why he said that and it must have been the beer and bitter disappointment that they made it so close again but still been so far away. Then and only then would Arthur agree to talk to him; that and Gwen had threatened to not sleep with him until he did. Gwen smirked as she remembered but her smirk quickly turned into a grimace as Arthur let out another almighty yell as he leapt up from the couch as Lampard shot the ball towards the goal but it bounced off the post and back to the defending player.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!! AHHHHHH, SO CLOSE!!! COME ON GUYS!!!” clapping his hands wildly Arthur sat back down taking a swing from his glass which was filled up to the brim with beer and had inscribed on it in frosted lettering “Football’s not a matter of life and death …it’s more important than that”, a thoughtful I’m sorry, please don’t kill me gift from Merlin after the whole Portugal vs England fiasco. Causally Gwen glanced at the screen wondering how long she’d have to survive, still 0-0 and a whole 60 minutes left. 60 minutes of Arthur screaming at the telly...great.
Gwen was beginning to understand why the world cup was only held every four years; the rate of murders would surely rise massively if people had to put up with this every year. It had been fine to start off with; she’d even been excited over it herself, mainly because Arthur had been bursting at the seams with joy and his delight was quite infectious, especially when he was smiling every day, blue eyes agleam and brought her endless amounts of roses, red and white colours of England, talking about how wonderful it was going to be; how he had a real good feeling about England’s chances of success and it was just the icing on the cake that he got to share and enjoy the whole thing with her by his side.
So for the first few games Gwen had happily plopped down next to him, gotten up to fetch him a beer at half time, made sure the munchy dish was full of crisps, peanuts, twiglets and other such nibbly bits. However the novelty had soon worn off and the reality of the situation had become extremely apparent. Football had taken over Arthur’s life and subsequently hers as well. If he wasn’t watching football, he was talking about it. How someone could divert every blooming conversation back into football was a skill, an extremely annoying, makes you want to kill the person skill but a skill none the less. What really took the cake though was when she’d woken up one night to find the bed absent of his presence and heard the noise of the T.V. When she had gotten up to discover what he was up to she’d found him laid on the couch in his boxers, beer in one hand, handful of crisps in the other, munchy dish balancing on his abs watching the football highlights of the bloody game he’d already watched earlier that day. It was beyond ridiculous, the man had a serious problem.
All Gwen wanted to do was curl up on the coach in her own home, read her book in peace without going deaf from all the shouting and constant buzz of whistles, cheers and the two commentators who droned on and on; half the time not even talking about the game but about how so and so had a new girlfriend; as if she cared about that. I mean was that really such a terrible thing to ask for, apparently so, as the T.V began buzzing from the roar of the crowd as England began making their way to their opponent’s goal. As the players got closer Arthur began creeping forward on the couch, ready to jump up at any moment, eyes opened wide. The commentators’ voices where growing louder with anticipation as well.
“Terry moves on down the right”
“He passes to Cole, oh and what a pass Cole makes, straight into the path of Rooney, that’s what we want to see!”
“Rooney’s making his way now oh but Cesar’s closing in on him, you’ll remember that Cesar and Rooney had that big clash in September 09”
Here they go again, more propaganda Gwen thought to herself, rolling her eyes up towards the heavens heaving a sigh.
“That’s right Tim, nasty stuff, Cesar suffered an ankle injury that kept him out of the game for while, but he’s back and by the looks of things he’s in great shape. He’s stolen the ball back with a fantastic tackle”
“Great skill and that’s another opportunity lost for England.”
“FUCK!!!” Arthur slumped back against the couch wringing his hands through his hair, before grabbing and taking another long swing out of his glass. The commentators continued to drone on.
“I suppose you also recall Bob that Cesar claimed that Rooney deliberately tried to injure him in that match and swore they’d make this game an unpleasant experience for him.”
“And I think he’s doing just that as he passes to Koren, who passes to Vrsic, who passes to Lavric.”
“There getting close to the goal now, England need to sort out their defence, Solvenia are looking good and they’re finding holes”
“Quite right Tim, there’s been lots of missed opportunities from both sides already”
“DEFEND!!! DEFEND!!!! TACKLE HIM!!! TERRY GET YOUR ARSE IN HIS WAY!!!!!” Arthur screamed madly gesturing frantically at T.V, presumably Gwen supposed, to the spot where Terry was supposed to be.
How Arthur was even keeping up with all this shouting Gwen would never know, by all accounts his voice surely must be red raw; he’d been at this for two weeks now, not missing one game. Not one game, I mean heaven forbid they actually do something productive. No, instead she had to sit here listening to football, she knew she could go out…but what the hell was she going to do on her own and how much fun would that be.
Morgana was off gallivanting somewhere or other, campaigning against the injustices of the world. Gwen had forgotten where she actually was at the moment, she changed countries so often. She missed her friend greatly, missed the random meet ups for coffee, watching Dirty Dancing and trying to get all the dance moves down but ending up falling over each other’s feet and becoming a giggling mess on the floor. Gwen missed having someone to talk to about girly things like how gorgeous that dress is; how stupid boys can be sometimes and how Haagen Daz is a gift from the gods. She couldn’t really do that with Arthur, Merlin…well maybe Merlin but it wasn’t the same. Still at least Morgana kept in regular contact via emails, texts and amusing webcam chats that somehow always ended up with them playing charades, god knows why.
No Gwen was alone in her fight, drowning in game after game with no sign of a let up; there was AGES to go until the end was finally here. Only two weeks, Gwen could hardly believe it had only been such a short length of time, it felt like years. She let out another deep sigh, she was getting nowhere with this book, five times she’d read the same line. Time to find something else. Standing up and leaving her book on the table, Gwen wondered off to get herself a glass of water. Just as she was running the tap Arthur stood up and kicked the table with a loud kathump making her jump and drop the glass into the sink, luckily it didn’t break.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Gwen turned looking over her shoulder frowning, she loved that table; it had been her bargain buy and lucky find in that old antique store down the road. It had beautiful carvings round the sides depicting scenes of medieval knights and ladies, he’d better not have damaged it, that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Gwen noticed that the Slovenian team where celebrating and the score in the corner now read 1-0 to Slovenia. That was the cause of the outburst then she realised, but that still didn’t give him the right to abuse the furniture. Gwen coughed loudly, Arthur didn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on the T.V so she coughed again, louder this time.
“WEAK, WEAK GOAL!!!” proclaimed Arthur as he turned to face Gwen, his facial expression indicated that he was confused at her dark expression. Gwen continued to stare at him. Shaking his head from side to side slowly Arthur shrugged his shoulders signifying that he was till unaware of why she looked pissed and wasn’t going to get it unless she explained. Gwen threw a glance to the table then looked back at Arthur, lips pursed and eyebrows raised. Arthur followed her gaze and looked at the table still bemused; then suddenly his face broke out into a sheepish grin and he flash her a look that said ‘I’m such a cute little puppy please don’t hurt me’.
“Sorry, didn’t mean too, just got a bit over well you know...” he threw his arms out in a flippant gesture.
“Uh huh,” Gwen replied unimpressed. “Just could you try and not destroy the furniture, please.” She strained out rubbing her forehead.
“Sure thing won’t happen again, I am sorry I……COME ON!!! GET BACK UP THERE BOYS!! YES, THAT’S IT!! KEEP GOING!!”
Gwen let out an all mighty sigh, pinching at the bridge of her nose and rolled her eyes; he was hopeless and all this shouting was giving her a massive headache. She took a long slip of water whilst walking towards the cupboards. Maybe some food would help and some paracetamal, she’d been quite dependant on that little pill for a while now, two weeks exactly. Gwen set down her glass down, after gulping down the paracetamal and pulled out two plates from the cupboard, along with a knife from the drawer and the bread and butter. Turning her back on the ongoing match Gwen tried to ignore the continuing rumble of noise. She was just about to ask Arthur if he wanted something to eat as well; not that she doubted he would, the man could eat for England, but as she was turning she gathered it wasn’t the best time as she could see Arthur was now hoping up and down like a frog on acid. From what Gwen could make out of the tiny burly figures it looked like England were about to score. Her suspicions where confirmed when suddenly Arthur sprang off the couch leaping up into the air fist pumping as he did so.
“WHAT A GOAL; WHAT! A! GOAL!!” Gwen couldn’t help but smile a little at his over excited reaction. He was such a child.
“Would you like a sandwich?” Gwen called out when he had somewhat subsided from his yells of ‘Hell yeah’ and now was just mumbling ‘That’s what I’m talking about’ ‘Let’s get another one’ to himself while rubbing his hands in a manner that remind Gwen of Mr Burns exxxxxcelllllllllllent.
“Huh?” Arthur called back not tuning from the T.V “Get back at them boys!”
“Sandwich?”
“Yeah”
“What do you want?”
“Sounds great”
Gwen gritted her teeth.
“No I asked what you want?”
Arthur’s voice was vague as he answered back, still not turning his gaze off from the T.V.
“Huh?”
Sighing deeply Gwen bit down on her lip, resisting every urge to go over there and wallop him over the head.
“What. Do.You. Want? She elongated each syllable through grinding teeth, her arms crossed firmly over the chest, as if trying to squeeze back the anger threatening to overflow.
“What are you talking about?”
That was it! Gwen let out a loud frustrated groan and spoke; her voice quite but threatening and tense.
“You know what, do it yourself, you prat.”
Arthur perplexed but sensing he was in big trouble turned his attention off of the T.V and faced Gwen completely, looking her over. She was not happy that was for sure. Her mouth was doing that thing where it looked like it may disappear entirely; she was pursing them together so much. Her arms where folded across her chest tightly, a knife in one hand. Arthur was suddenly very anxious and aware of the weapon in her hand. Her stance was rigid, facial expression icy and hard. The phrase ‘If looks could kill’ ran through his mind, ‘Never mind looks, what about that knife’. Why did she have a knife in her hand anyway Arthur wondered and then he noticed the plates, butter and bread. Ahhhh that was why….whoops, first the table now this….he was definitely being put in the dog house or more he was walking willingly into it. Ok time to turn this situation around, he thought to himself as he stood up from his sitting positing and putting on his best charming face and voice, walked towards Gwen.
Gwen hesitated as he walked towards her, knowing full well what that look meant. He was going to try and be all cute with her now. Well you just try it mister see how it works out for you.
“How about I help you with those sandwiches”
Letting his arm brush against and around Gwen’s waist and planting a kiss into her dark curls Arthur moved around her and to the fridge pulling it open flashing a smile over his shoulder; Gwen stepped away and out of the embrace, determined not to let him get away with it that easily. Arthur flinched just a little at her coldness but brushed it off, saying instead.
“Ham and salad ok?”
“Mmmm” she replied turning her back on the T.V and concentrated on cutting the bread.
Arthur withdrew from the fridge ingredients in hand and set them down on the counter Gwen was working on facing away from the T.V. Gwen was a little surprised by that; scratch that, she was GREATLY shocked; he was actually not going to watch the football… was he ill? Resisting the urge to check his temperature Gwen took the tomatoes, cucumber and lecture he was handing her and ran them under the cool water, washing them.
Arthur moved so that he was now behind Gwen and reached above her mass of dark hair opening the cupboard carefully making sure Gwen had ducked down enough so as not to get hit, he placed his hand across the edge of the door just in case. From within he took down the mustard.
“Don’t worry I won’t put mustard on yours, I know you don’t like it and I’ll butter the bread so that it’s all the way at the edges just the way my baby likes it.” Arthur bent down over her shoulder kissing her check and nuzzling into her hair.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re playing at.” Gwen retorted pushing back against him with her back with such force that he stumbled back slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” feigning ignorance Arthur set to work.
Despite her best efforts to stay mad at him, Gwen’s resolve was evaporating quickly as Arthur playfully elbowed her and bumped her hips with his as they worked in a conveyor belt way, while she bit on her lip to stop from smiling. Arthur: butter bread, spread mustard on (only on his), add ham …Gwen: cut tomatoes and cucumber, add them and then the lettuce. Regardless of the fact she was biting on her lip and repeating the phrase I will not give in, I won’t give in, Gwen soon found her self grinning as Arthur began singing. True it was a football song ‘It’s coming home, it’s coming home’ and that was annoying but when he was doing it in an operatic voice rather than a chant, Gwen found herself not minding, especially since listening to Arthur trying to reach soprano notes was hysterical and really just too much for Gwen. Before she could even try to stop herself she was laughing so hard that she had to clutch onto the counter as her other hand clutched at her side as she tried to regain composure and breathe. Arthur, pleased that he had finally gotten a smile out of her, laughed with her, grabbing her around her waist and turning her towards him teasing her.
“Is that a smile I see? I think it is…”
“Shut up” Gwen said breathlessly trying to rid her voice of the gleeful tone and get it back to the I’m going to cut you into little pieces tone, pushing at Arthur’s shoulders trying to wriggle her way out of his arms but Arthur was too strong for her.
“Uh huh no you don’t.”
Pulling her in closer Arthur picked Gwen up, sweeping her clean off her feet and popped her down on the opposite counter, so that he was facing into the living room area while her back was still turned from it. Leaning in Arthur made to kiss her but Gwen turned her head so that his lips meet her cheek instead.
“No, I’m mad at you”
Crossing her arms across her chest as if to enforce this statement, or really more to convince herself, Gwen turned away from him. She could feel Arthur half smirk into her skin.
“No you’re not”
“Yes I am, how would you know anyway?” she huffed turning to look at him, big mistake.
“You can’t be mad at me, you love me.” Arthur replied grinning at her in his boyish way and winking. What was he like? Gwen rolled her eyes pretending that that boyish grin didn’t melt her insides.
“Just because I love you, doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.” Gwen practically spoke shuffling on the counter finding a more comfortable position. Arthur smirked at her voice and leant into her, arms placing themselves either side of her legs, so that he was slowly but surely edging his way in between them, though Gwen made a weak attempt to deny his access.
“So you do love me” his voice was mischievous.
“No” she answered flatly. She was not going to give in, she wasn’t.
Arthur chuckled and nudged his face into her neck, kissing it lightly and bringing his hands up onto her legs rubbing them up and down.
“Yes you do, you just said, you love me” He looked up at her brushing his nose against hers, smiling. Gwen turned her head away from him again, sighing. Nope she was not going to give into that grin or those big blue eyes, or that voice that was both smooth and rough and made her stomach do back flips. Gwen gulped, no she was not.
“You loooooovvvveeee me” Arthur sing songed into her ear, his breath tickling her and voice so childlike and smug that she half wanted to giggle like a school girl and half wanted to kick him where it hurt.
“No, I don’t.” She grumbled really trying hard not to grin but unable to stop the edges of her lips from curling upwards ever so slightly but Arthur saw and it only strengthen his determination to crack her.
“Ouuuuu wuvvvv eeeee, ouuu wuvvv eeee” he repeated over and over in his best baby voice, while he slowly traced his nose along her ear onto her check, down to her neck and then finally bringing his gaze to meet Gwen’s. Her resolve was literally gone anyway but the moment those big shinning puppy dog blue eyes came into view she crumbled, sighing she relented.
“Fine, I love you.”
But Arthur was apparently having a little too much fun in his game because he shook his head, making his hair flop about and pouted.
“Uh uh you don’t love me…you wuvvv eee.”
Gwen couldn’t help it; he looked so adorable, she giggled but shook her head from side to side.
“Say it, say you wuvvv eeee” Arthur ran his hands up and down the material of her jeans while keeping his baby look pout face on. Gwen’s resounding laugh trickled into the air. She swung her arms upwards bringing them down onto Arthur’s shoulders with a gentle thump. Making her eyes match Arthur’s in child like wonder she pouted back giggling as she spoke.
“I wuuuuuvvv ouuuuu”
Arthur half smirked, half beamed and captured her lips in his, both of them laughing into the embrace. Gwen tighten her grip around his shoulders pulling him in closer while Arthur ran his hands up from where they’d been resting on her legs to her lower back sliding her closer to him and onto the edge of the counter. Pulling back he whispered into her mouth.
“I wuuvvv ouuu oooo” Gwen laughed joyfully yanking him back towards her by the base of his neck with a “You’re such an idiot” and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Just as things where taking a turn for…well for the bedroom; Arthur suddenly pulled back abruptly much to Gwen’s displeasure and protested moans.
“Oh second half’s about to start” kissing her lips quickly Arthur detangled himself from a shocked Gwen, grabbed his sandwich, kissed her again mumbling a ‘Thanks for the food, finish this later’ and ran back to the T.V at double speed. Gwen sat on the counter for a while completely shell-shocked, so that explained why he’d come to help her, bloody first half had ended, she knew there was something fishy when he’d turned his back to the T.V. Looking over her shoulder she saw him take a huge bit out of his sandwich, shouting with a full mouthful.
“GET UP THERE, COME ON WE CAN DO IT.”
And begin to clap his hands wildly again, perfectly calm and serene as if they weren’t just having a full out make out session and he’d gone and left her all hot and bothered. Gwen shook her head.
Un-fucking believable