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It’s Friday night, one of Arthur’s favorite nights of the week. He knows that for most people Friday is synonymous with partying and freedom but for him, it means getting to leave all his stress at his office and come home to his boyfriend with whom he’ll get to spend the evening curled up with in peace and quiet. It’s relaxing and peaceful and his idea of what heaven would look like.
Tonight, thanks to the chill in the year that proves winter’s begun, they’re curled up on the soft rug in front of the fire. Arthur’s leaning back against the couch, long legs sprawled in front of him. His head is tilted back onto the cushion, eyes closed as he hums the melody of the song playing despite being on the verge of sleep.
Merlin’s lying next to him, his head settled on Arthur’s chest whilst his legs are draped over Arthur’s lap. One of Arthur’s hands rests on Merlin’s knees, moving every so often to draw mindless patterns whilst the other is ensnared within Merlin’s grasp as Merlin fiddles with his rings.
“You like rings a lot, don’t you?” Merlin mentions casually, twirling Arthur’s thumb ring between his index and thumb.
“Hmm?” Arthur hums, blinking his eyes open lazily. “Oh, I guess. It’s not really rings on a whole, honestly, just those.”
“Why these two specifically? I mean, I know that this one’s your mum’s but I don’t think you’ve ever told me about the other one.”
“Well, yeah, mum’s ring is self-explanatory but this one, it’s been in our family for generations. Passed from father to son. My dad passed it on to me when I turned twenty-one. It bears the Pendragon crest.”
Merlin blinks up at him, “Your family has a crest? Wait, don’t answer that. Of course you do, posh git.”
Arthur breathes a laugh, lightly shoving Merlin but not enough to dislodge him from his chest.
“I wasn’t joking when I said I came from a line of kings, Merlin,” He teases rather imperiously and Merlin rolls his eyes.
“No, you were just being a prat.”
Arthur ruffles Merlin’s hair. “You’re just jealous because your ancestors were probably farmers or some other sort of peasants. Maybe even servants in the Pendragon household.”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Merlin accuses, laughter coating his words.
“Well, if they were anything like you, they’d probably-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Merlin demands, covering Arthur’s mouth with his hand. Arthur licks him. “Ugh, you’re disgusting.”
“You’ve had your tongue in my arse but that’s what you call disgusting?” Arthur shoots him a tetchy look and Merlin huffs, trying to ignore the blush on his cheeks brought forth by Arthur’s words.
“Shut up,” He mumbles. “Anyways, we were talking about your rings.”
“Fine,” Arthur relents with a long-suffering sigh, as though dropping the topic is such a hardship. “What else did you want to know?”
“Well, would you wear other rings at all or is it just those two, full stop?”
“Merlin, you idiot, if you’re trying to gauge whether I’d turn down your proposal or not, the answer is fairly obvious. I’d wear a wedding band, of course.”
“Bit presumptuous to think I’d want to marry you, isn’t it? Besides, that’s actually not what I was getting at. I just wanted to know about your ring-wearing habits.”
Arthur snorts. “I’ll have you know I’m a catch. Anyone would be lucky to marry me,” He sniffs arrogantly and Merlin gives into the urge to peck him chastely, a barely there kiss that has Arthur whining when he pulls away. He smiles, allowing Arthur to pull him in deeper for a bit, before he settles against him again when they pull apart for air.
“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about them. I guess I don’t really love rings, exactly. I just like to wear the ones that have some sort of meaning to me. If you laugh at me for this, ever, I will leave you--” He stops to glare at Merlin warningly. “But it’s--comforting, I suppose. Like, when I’m--when I need it--it helps to just feel the ring on my skin and think about the person behind it. Well, at least, my mum’s own is. The crest is more of a reminder that I have a duty to my family name. It serves as a motivation for when I’m tempted to quit my job and move to some remote island off the coast of Spain or something. Is that weird?” He asks, nose scrunching up as he thinks about what he’s just confessed.
Merlin’s hand reaches up to cup his cheek and he leans in to press a kiss to Arthur’s temple, “No, I think it’s sweet. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
Arthur shakes his head at Merlin, smiling fondly as he leans his forehead against Merlin’s.
-
Months pass, their conversation long forgotten, and then it’s Friday again. This time, they’re out on the balcony, nestled on opposite sides of the three-seater swing-chair with their legs tangled in the middle.
Merlin’s fiddling with Arthur’s hand, yet again, while Arthur’s attention is drawn to the sunset painted across London’s skyline. He feels something cold and metallic being slipped onto his ring finger and he turns to look at Merlin, heart beating rapidly in his chest. The ring is a thick sterling silver band, the cutout of a small butterfly carved elegantly into the middle.
“It’s not an engagement ring,” Merlin says, his tone peculiar. “I saw it and I remembered what you said, about wearing rings that mean something to you.”
He holds out his hand and Arthur sees that he’s wearing the inverse. Merlin’s is a thin band, made of the same sterling silver, with a delicate butterfly pendant sitting beautifully. Merlin twists the ring so that the butterfly is on the inside of his finger and does the same to Arthur’s, pressing their hands together. Arthur can feel the butterfly fit into the groove, completing the ring.
“It reminded me of us,” Merlin voices, eyes locked on their joined hands. “I like to think that you complete me, the same way I complete you. So, I couldn’t leave without buying them. And well, I figured you could wear it, and every time you saw it, you’d think of me. It would remind you that I love you and I’m proud of you and I’m always here for you to fall back on when you need to just let go a bit. Like I said, not an engagement ring but…”
“But, what if I want it to be?” Arthur cuts in, voice rough with the emotions choking him. Merlin’s gaze shoots up to him, eyes wide in shock.
“You…” He trails off, voice almost too soft to be heard. He takes a shaky breath. “You want it to be? You want us to--? You want to marry me?”
Arthur smiles broadly, eyes glistening as he nods. “I do. Fuck, Merlin, I do. I just didn’t realize how badly until you slipped that ring on my finger. Your ring.”
Merlin grins, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck and burying his face in his shoulder, squeezing Arthur as tightly as he can. “I love you.”
Arthur returns the embrace, pulling back only just enough to bestow Merlin with the most tender kiss he’s ever received. “I love you so much.”
“Well you should,” Merlin laughs wetly, “Considering you’re marrying me.”