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Arthur does not understand twenty-first century Christmas decorations. At all. Firstly, he believes that they're just too much. Who in their right mind would want to see tinsel on every single window sill in town? It's called negative space, people. Also, do people even need robotic Santas the actually walk up and down rooftops? It's unnecessary. (Arthur will not admit that the only reason he doesn't like them is because he doesn't understand how that technology works.)
So no, there are no decorations at the Pendragon household, and that's just the way Arthur likes it.
It's becoming increasingly apparent, however, that that is not the way Merlin likes it. Every day he asks, "Can we please put up decorations?"
To which Arthur responds, "No, we will not give in to this capitalist peer pressure."
And then Merlin will say, "Arthur, you don't even know what capitalist means. How do you manage to be such a royal prat in this century, too?" And then they kiss each other before Merlin heads to work, and the cycle continues the next morning.
One Sunday morning, though, Arthur is greeted with the sight of Merlin longingly gazing out of their kitchen window, looking at their neighbors' Christmas decorations. Arthur sighs. He had assumed that Merlin was arguing to be contrary. Not once did he think that maybe his husband actually wanted decorations. He feels like an ass. Arthur discreetly makes a call do his manager, asking for time off. He has a plan to fix this.
On Monday morning, while Merlin heads to the bookstore, Arthur heads to the Christmas pop-up shop just down the road. He gets easily overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things available and the people and all the lights and the noises, oh my God everything in this century is too damn noisy. His breath quickens, body shaking and eyes going in and out of focus. He is very clearly panicking and scaring the nearby guests. How becoming of a former King.
But this is for Merlin, he thinks, I have to do this for him. I should not have done this alone. He's brought back into the world by a gentle hand on his shoulder and a lilting, delicate voice asking, "Sir, are you okay?" Arthur is able to breathe again. Thank God.
He coughs. "Um, yes, I— I'm fine." His voice is raspy and body shaky. Both of them can tell that he's not okay. The assistant mercifully gives Arthur a pack with basic Christmas essentials: tinsel, mistletoe, lights, and a miniature Christmas tree. Arthur thanks her and goes to the nearest available self checkout machine.
After making his way back home, Arthur puts up the decorations. He begrudgingly admits that they look kinda nice, even if it is just a capitalist ploy. He then makes hot chocolate and lights their fireplace. Finally, Arthur thinks, everything is nice and cheery.
And just in time, too, because Merlin chooses that morning to come back home.
"Arthur, I'm— what is all of this?" Merlin scans the living room, mouth agape. "Did you— did you do this for me? Wait, did you go to the store all by yourself? I'm so proud of you!"
Part of Arthur wants to be offended— anyone could go to the store by themselves— but another, bigger part of him is just happy to see Merlin look so awed.
Merlin gives Arthur the biggest, warmest hug he can. "Thank you so much, Arthur. I know how much you dislike decorations, and stores, and basically the outside world as a whole, so this means so much to me. I love you." Arthur smiled. Maybe Christmas decorations weren't so bad after all.