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Arthur sighed as he rolled over in his bed, groaning at the blaring alarm.
The light from the window was pouring into the room through the open curtains. It was obnoxious and bright and—goddammit, that alarm was too loud!
Arthur sat up; his unwillingly open eyes narrowed into a glare as he fumbled to shut off the offending clock. It was only then that Arthur realized the most distressing fact of his morning.
Quickly, he rubbed his eyes and turned to look at the right side of the bed. A small whine crawled it’s way out of his lips at the sight of the empty space beside him. Arthur glared at the messed-up sheets and crooked pillow. Then, with a huff, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, walking to the door and swinging it open.
“Merlin!” He shouted down the hall.
There was a moment of silence, followed by a crashing noise and loud swearing. Then, “In the kitchen!”
Arthur heaved out a sigh, dropping his head into his hands.
He walked back into the room, stumbling around as he gathered up his clothes from the floor where they were strewn about. Arthur glanced to the door and debated closing it, then he looked down at his nude body and shrugged, deciding it didn’t matter much. He hurriedly tugged on his clothes, grimacing at the fact they were yesterday’s clothes that he was putting back on.
Once he deemed himself presentable, Arthur walked out of the room and headed for the kitchen. His brows were pulled into a frown, and his lips a pout (though, he would deny it), as he walked into the room.
“Merlin,” he huffed, stopping in the entryway and crossing his arms over his chest.
Merlin stopped what he was doing by the stove and turned around to smile at Arthur. “Oh, well, good morning, Arthur. I was wondering when you’d get up,” he hummed, “we had a rather long night—thought I’d let you sleep in.”
“By setting your alarm for ten?” He grumbled, dragging his feet over to the stove. “What on earth are you doing? You know you can’t cook.”
“What? And you can, mister I’ve-had-a-personal-chef-since-birth?” Merlin retorted. Arthur moved behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his front to Merlin’s back. He rested his chin on Merlin’s shoulder. “At least I try, unlike a certain prince I know.”
“Mm, I liked you better last night,” Arthur teased, watching as Merlin pushed around what looked like bacon in a pan. “That snarky mouth was given a much better use...”
“Oh, yeah? Well, keep talking like that and it won’t be used like that for a month,” Merlin threatened.
“You don’t mean that,” Arthur called him out on his blatant lie, burying his face in Merlin’s neck. Merlin hummed as Arthur began peppering kissed against the exposed skin.
“How do you know? I could.” He tilted his head to the side to give Arthur more space.
Arthur paused, nipping lightly at where his jaw and neck connected before moving up to his ear. “Because you said that last week,” he whispered, relishing in the way Merlin shivered in his hold.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Merlin asked after a moment of silence, and Arthur could see the hint of pink lighting his face even from where he stood holding him from behind. “Your father is probably wondering where you are. Don’t you and the King have a special appearance at some charity today?”
“He knows I’m with you, and it’s been moved to next Thursday due to weather,” Arthur hummed, resuming placing kisses all over Merlin’s neck.
Merlin, however, froze in his hold. Then, he quickly forced himself around in Arthur’s arms so he was facing him.
“What did you just say?” He asked, ignoring Arthur’s obvious annoyance at being stopped from showering him in kisses again.
“I said it’s been moved to next Thursday. It’s meant to rain again today, and yesterday’s rain already fucked up the venue enough,” Arthur explained, arms loosening around Merlin’s waist.
Merlin shook his head. “No, no, before that.”
“Oh.” Arthur blinked a few times, then, he smiled. “I said my father knows I’m with you.”
Merlin stared at him for a moment, before wriggling his way out of Arthur’s grasp, laughing. Arthur’s brows furrowed in confusion, as he watched his lover laugh, now a few paces away from him.
“Oh—oh, that’s so, that’s a good one, love,” Merlin chuckled, obviously trying to compose himself. “Gods, I almost thought you were serious for a moment!”
“I… am.” Arthur frowned.
Arthur was almost unsettled by how quickly Merlin sobered. His eyes went wide, and his arms hung limp at his sides as he stared at Arthur like he’d just set the kitchen aflame again.
“What… What do you mean you’re serious?” He asked, suddenly looking rather nervous.
Arthur understood. They’d always been anxious to tell Uther about their relationship—he was old-fashioned. Wanted Arthur to marry a nice princess for political gain. He was a decent king, but not so much a father.
Merlin had never liked him. Uther had never liked Merlin.
They’d planned on just never telling Uther about them, but, well, Arthur being the prince… It would get out sooner or later he was in a relationship, and they’d been keeping it under wraps for over two years now by some miracle. [That miracle being Merlin’s connections to the local news station and Arthur paying off the press.]
But, it had been over two years, and a new obstacle had entered the arena and so… Arthur made an executive decision.
“I told him about us, Merlin.”
Honestly, the reaction was exactly what he’d been expecting.
“You what?” Merlin squeaked; his voice strained. “Oh, gods, he’s going to have me executed. Can he still do that? Oh, who cares, he’s the king! Oh, gods, I’m going to be arrested for…for defiling the prince!”
Arthur let out a strangled noise, his eyes widening. “Merlin! Relax! That’s not—you’re not being arrested! He let me come here, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have done that if he was going to arrest you, or… execute you, which—by the way—he can’t do.”
“Why did you tell him, Arthur? And why did you tell him without talking to me?” Merlin looked genuinely upset, and for a moment Arthur felt a stab of guilt. Then, he remembered why he did all this, and the guilt melted away into a faint anxiety.
“Well, uh, I had to,” he vaguely explained.
He really hadn’t planned to do it this way. In the kitchen, Merlin in his pajamas and Arthur in the same clothes he wore the day before… But, he supposed, it would have to do.
“Why did you have to?” Merlin crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
And, gods, Arthur loved him.
“I had to because… You see,” Arthur began. He cleared his throat, and straightened his posture. “I had to because I have something very important to ask you and I needed my father to know of us beforehand—to know nothing he could say would change us.”
Merlin’s vaguely irritated expression faltered, but his arms stayed crossed. So, Arthur sighed. He took the few steps closer and closed the distance between them, before slowly kneeling.
On one knee, he looked up to Merlin—open, and vulnerable. Laid bare for Merlin to see.
“I want you to marry me, Merlin,” he confessed, his voice softer than he’d expected it to be. “I convinced my father to let me wed you, that’s why I had to tell him. I want to marry you. I want to take you as my consort, add you to the royal family, give you my name—hell, I’d even take yours. Arthur Ambrosius, that sounds pretty good. But so does Merlin Pendragon, so… Ah, marry me…?”
Merlin’s arms slowly fell to his sides, and he stared down at Arthur stunned. Arthur felt sick with anxiety and hope. Unsure if the shock on Merlin’s face was good or not. Unsure if he was about to be ruthlessly rejected or not.
Until, Merlin dropped to his knees in front of him and grabbed Arthur’s face gently in his hands.
“Yes, gods yes, Arthur, of course I will, of course I will,” he breathed, a grin a mile wide on his face. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”
Relief washed over Arthur like waves on a shore. “Great… Great. Great!”
Merlin huffed out a laugh at Arthur’s rather incoherent response, before pressing their lips firmly together. Arthur hummed softly. He placed his hands on Merlin’s waist, kissing him with all he had.
When they broke apart, Arthur was struggling to suppress a mad grin. Sunlight poured into the kitchen from the window above the sink, lighting the kitchen so perfectly, and Arthur…
Arthur couldn’t have been more thrilled.
“I still can’t believe you actually told your father,” Merlin suddenly sighed, grin still on his face. Arthur couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“Yes, I should have just showed up with a husband one day, that would have gone over well,” he retorted.
Merlin went quiet a moment, his hands still cradling Arthur’s face as his grin softened to a fond smile. Just when Arthur was about to ask if he was okay, Merlin finally spoke. His voice soft as a sigh, filled with adoration that sent Arthur’s heart racing,
“You’re going to be my husband…”