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*
Arthur had never quite wanted someone or something as much as he found he wanted Merlin. And it was more than want, he discovered eventually, it was an ache, a hunger, a longing. He wanted Merlin, had always wanted Merlin, would always want Merlin. Wanted to touch him, kiss him, be with him every second of every day for the rest of their lives. And Arthur couldn't even say when it had started, if he had known from the first moment he'd met Merlin, or if it had happened slowly, an awakening, a slow, simmering realization. Either way, it had happened, and either way, Arthur wanted Merlin with every fiber of his being, was sure he would never want any one or anything like he wanted Merlin ever again.
So asking him out on a date required Arthur to work up not enough and yet too much nerve all at once, because how was he meant to ask his best friend out on a date without it being weird? What if Merlin said no? That would be too heartbreaking a situation to face, he decided.
And yet, he couldn't not ask him out, couldn't not risk it—Merlin was worth the risk, he knew. So finding it in him to ask the other out was something he needed to do as much as he needed to take in his next breath. He just needed to find the right time and the right words to do so.
Then one afternoon he was with Merlin and some of their friends, watching some show or another that Arthur couldn't focus on with Merlin sitting so close to him and smelling that damn good and looking like that anyway, and he knew it was now or never; he was either going to ask Merlin out now or he was never going to work up the nerve ever again and—
"Arthur," Merlin nudged him suddenly, catching the blond's attention almost immediately, everyone else in the room sliding their eyes over as well for a brief moment before giving the television their attention once more.
"What?"
"Not doing anything Friday night, are you?"
"Why?" he asked slowly.
"Because I was wondering, if you're not busy, if you would... want to go out with me—like on a date—see a movie or something?"
Arthur's mouth fell open for a moment, an excited jolt making him sit up slightly; at least, he told himself in that moment before he answered, he didn't have to worry about sounding too nervous when he asked Merlin out now.
"Well, I'll have to cancel my other date, but, I don't see why not." he grinned.
Merlin rolled his eyes, grinning back at Arthur all the same as he turned his attention back to the television, leaving Arthur already feeling anticipation for Friday night to finally arrive.
And when it did, he was far too nervous once again, jittery and fumbling over his own words on the way to the cinema and before the movie started, but, ah, Merlin seemed just as nervous as he was, leg bouncing through-out the first fifteen minutes of the movie until Arthur finally dug his hand out of his popcorn and placed it on Merlin's knee, wanting to both comfort and get him to stop being so... distracting. Five minutes later, he chanced a sideways glance at Merlin, not missing for a moment the wide grin that was on his face.
After, they went for a walk; and Arthur knew he would always remember that night when he glanced up and the full moon was a golden color that painted courage in his veins as he thought about kissing Merlin for what might have been the ninth or such time that night—and he would have! he would insist for years to come, he would have and he was going to when he glanced back down and over to Merlin, but...
"But?" Merlin would come to prompt in later years, cheeky grin on his face, the answer already reflected in his shining eyes and the quirk of an eyebrow as he all but stared Arthur down for his reply.
"But," Arthur would grin in response, moving close to Merlin. "you just looked... so gorgeous under the light of the full moon that it took my breath away and I couldn't think properly, and the next thing I know—"
"—the next thing you know, I'm kissing you because you froze up and your mouth was hanging open—and you looked stunning under the moonlight, you know, the sun suits you better, obviously, but you really looked stunning that night and I still had the sense of mind to kiss you," Merlin would snort, punctuating the words with a kiss to be sure Arthur got the message—as he always did, grinning into the kiss in turn and deepening it when it was appropriate.
And in time the one date and the one kiss that Merlin had initiated would come to take them from fumbling words, and nervous actions and chuckles, and melt into comfortable stories, and easy confessions, and one date after another after another after another, and kisses that came sweeter and slower, and arguments that were like poison and felt like home at once, and soon enough—soon enough years went by and kisses were still sweet and arguments were still like poison and felt like home at once, and life was... Good.
Life was great, actually.
But it could have been greater, Arthur decided, could have been so much greater, so much better. And the only way to accomplish such a thing, he decided, well, was to ask Merlin to spend every second of every day of rest of their lives with him—because he still wanted that. God, did he still want that and Merlin more than anything. And the only way to make what they had any better, to make life any better than it already was, was to ask if Merlin wanted the same, to make sure he could spend every second of every day of the rest of his life with Merlin.
And of course, Arthur Pendragon didn't half-ass things, when he planned a proposal, he went all out. Flowers and music and a fancy restaurant and suits and champagne and a ring he was sure Merlin would love. And a speech, too, of course; he'd written a speech, wrote it down and rewrote it a thousand times, tearing up page after page with ink stains and fragmented sentiments and sentences that were reminiscent of when he'd been preparing to ask Merlin out on their first date. The words he was preparing to say now, however, were a bit more important, and he would actually get the chance to say them this time. A proposal was a bit more life changing than a first date could be, anyway—their first date, of course, had been rather life-changing, but his nerves and thoughts were frazzled and scattered too much to linger on semantics.
(After rewriting the speech a thousand times, he'd decided to do away with the practiced words and rely on whatever nervous words that would come naturally to him when the moment came instead; a risk that made him all the more nervous when he really thought about it for a moment, but, well, he was willing to take that risk, he decided.)
He planned the event for their anniversary, deciding that a formal dinner and suits were less suspicious on a night such as that than they would be on any other date night.
By the end of said night when they were just digging into dessert, Arthur swallowed his nerves, cleared his throat to catch Merlin's attention, heart set on asking before they left the restaurant. He'd been stalling all through-out dinner, trying to piece together what he was going to say as he tried to hold half-conversations with Merlin around the food and said thoughts without letting anything on, so it really was about time he just got on with it already.
"Merlin," he said at last, stomach flipping already.
"Hm?" Merlin raised an eyebrow, nodding to show he was listening even as he bit into the cake on the end of his fork.
"I've been thinking," he began, taking in a calming breath.
"Mmm, s'never good, is it?"
"I'm trying to be serious here," Arthur chuckled, shooting Merlin a look of playful reproach.
"Fine, be serious; I won't interrupt again." Merlin held his hands up in surrender, grin on his face giving way to his own amusement as he reached over for a bite off Arthur's plate, as good as a promise that he very well would interrupt again if it suited him.
"As I was saying, I've been thinking and... I love you. And... well, you already knew that, obviously. But I just... really love you and... you look very handsome tonight, you know that?" he asked suddenly, moving his hand to rub the back of his neck, words and true intention of the evening catching on his tongue and tangling there before he could actually get them out. Perhaps he should have stuck with the practiced words after all...
"You're not so bad yourself," Merlin replied with a wink, still nibbling away at both of their desserts as Arthur tried to come to his senses. "Why does yours taste better than mine? We got the exact same thing!" he lamented suddenly, pointing his fork at Arthur in an accusing manner, as though Arthur didn't have more important things to worry about than who's cake tasted better right now.
"So switch the plates, I'm not really in the mood for cake anyway."
"Not in the mood for cake! My own boyfriend!" Merlin exclaimed, feigning offense and disbelief, moving to swap the plates nonetheless, digging into what had previously been Arthur's plate as Arthur stared on, reminded all too suddenly of their first date and not getting to kiss Merlin first or even getting to be the one to ask him out. Indeed, Merlin always seemed to be the one asking and doing the things that would move their relationship forward, always seemed to be one step ahead of Arthur, when he thought about it.
He'd been the first to introduce Arthur as his boyfriend to people, had been the first to have Arthur meet his family, had been the first to spend the night at Arthur's.
He'd been the first to let the words 'I love you' fall off his lips one afternoon when they were out shopping for some gift for Arthur's sister, the most casual thing in the world almost, until Arthur had stopped where he was and stolen a breath-taking kiss from Merlin before muttering the words in return against his lips.
Merlin had also been the one to first give Arthur a key to his flat, to be the one to eventually suggest they move in together.
And it wasn't that their relationship was a competition, exactly, and he was happy that their relationship progressed in the ways that it had, that they'd gotten to this point at all; it wasn't a bad thing that Merlin was always one step ahead of him, but...
It also wasn't a bad thing that Merlin hadn't a clue what Arthur's plan for the evening was.
"If you're not going to finish your very serious thought," Merlin said suddenly, "at least have a bit of cake, yeah? It's our anniversary, Arthur, you have to."
Arthur rolled his eyes at the insistence, but, well, he supposed taking a moment or two to have a bit of cake would be good for him, would give him long enough to gather his thoughts and what he wanted to say to the other. Plus, he mused, it was cake, and well, he couldn't go wrong with eating cake anyway.
He picked up his own fork once again and glanced down to his plate, freezing just as his fork touched it when he saw—
No. That wasn't... couldn't be...
Damnit.
"Arthur?" he heard Merlin ask, suddenly all too close.
His heart sped up as he looked down, finding Merlin on bended knee beside him, hope and nerves and love written in his eyes, and Arthur didn't know whether to be endeared and happy or aggraveted as he looked from Merlin before him and the ring on his plate and back again, because damnit...
*
"You know, I'd been planning on proposing tonight," he said later on the drive back home, ring on his finger and Merlin's all too wonderful words from the restaurant making his heart skip a beat even all these moments later.
"Sure you were," Merlin grinned in response.
"I was—look in my jacket pocket, there's a ring," he insisted, looking to the backseat for a fraction of a moment to indicate to where he'd thrown his jacket before starting the drive.
Wordlessly, Merlin reached back and grabbed the jacket, fished around the pockets until he came up with the damned ring box and popped it open, an appreciative grin on his face as he looked it over for a moment before he pulled it out and slipped it onto his own finger, popped the box shut and folded Arthur's jacket over his lap.
"I guess you were," he replied. "Should've been quicker, Pendragon," he shook his head playfully, leaving Arthur to narrow his eyes at the road in front of them.
He could have argued, of course, because a proposal should not have been a race, but... if he had been quicker, he could have been the one to slip that ring onto Merlin's finger rather than the other way around.
Damnit.
*
They were soon enough swept up and away in plans and congratulations long enough to lose track of time, to barely notice when the date they'd picked out crept up on them, and suddenly it was the day of their wedding and...
It was the day of their wedding.
And standing together like that before their friends and family was the happiest Arthur had ever been, he decided, almost sure that he was dreaming when he was asked to speak to Merlin, something he'd been dreading and looking forward to all at once, sure he would be too nervous to make too much sense, but, ah, at least—finally—he would get to do something before Merlin did. He could revel in that feeling of smugness long enough to squeeze Merlin's hands before he began.
"You've always been one step ahead of me, always seemed to know when I was ready to move forward with things even before I did, and... well, I think I could appreciate that, if it didn't get so damn aggravating sometimes," he chuckled, not missing the eyeroll Merlin directed at him before he continued. "But that aside... I love you, I've known for years now that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you—and you've probably known the same thing for about a week longer than I have, you don't need to say it, I already know—and now that I finally get to, I... couldn't be happier, and... I can't wait to start spending the rest of my life with you. I love you."
*
Tucked away in their hotel room later that evening after the festivities and reception were over and done with, Arthur sighed as he shrugged out of his jacket, exhausted beyond words after the busy day they'd just had. He let his eyes scan the room until they came to land on Merlin, who was already without his jacket and bowtie, and in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt when Arthur's eyes caught on him and he smiled at him, ceased in his current task to walk over to him instead, coy grin on his face as he approached Arthur.
With the distance between them closed, Merlin's arms came up to circle around Arthur, tugging him close for a kiss that Arthur melted into, still feeling entirely exhausted but... happy. So, so happy.
"There you go again, doing the things I want to do before I can do them," Arthur mumbled when he pulled back, a breathless laugh leaving Merlin as he did so.
"You like that I'm always a step ahead of you, you prat," he replied, reaching down for Arthur's hand to tangle their fingers together before he tugged Arthur towards the bed.
"Do not," he insisted, indignant. "Like, I did want to be the one to propose, you know; I'd been planning that night for weeks, and then you had to go and ruin it."
"Oh, ruined it, did I?" Merlin scoffed, turning to Arthur for a moment with a considering look on his face and, after a pause, shoved him down onto the bed.
Arthur looked up at the other wonderingly after he landed and settled in, watching as the other finished removing his shirt, prattling on as he did so, "You looked like you'd about swallowed your tongue, how was I meant to know you were going to propose? And I didn't ruin anything, we still got married, didn't we? Does it really matter who proposed so long as this was the end result?" he demanded, gesturing to his ring before he threw his shirt over a chair off to the side.
"Fine," Arthur relented with a grin, playing with his own ring for a moment before he turned his attention back up to Merlin. "Maybe you didn't ruin it, exactly..."
"Oh, not exactly," Merlin repeated sarcastically, lowering himself to the bed so he was straddling Arthur, before he leaned down for a kiss, pressing Arthur further into the bed in the process.
"Not exactly," Arthur murmured against his lips, hand moving to tangle in his hair.
Deepening the kiss, Merlin's hands moved to Arthur's chest, fumbling with the buttons that trailed down, a task Arthur was sure he was making much more difficult than it needed to be as he kept trying to pull Merlin against him more fully, but, well, he couldn't exactly help that.
With Arthur's shirt finally open, Merlin pulled back, much to Arthur's dismay, cheeks flushed as he looked down at Arthur, hands landing on his bare chest as he worked to collect himself, Arthur doing the same as he looked up at Merlin, almost unbelieving that he could call Merlin his husband now.
"God, you're gorgeous," Merlin breathed. "You've always been gorgeous, but..." he shrugged, suddenly coy as he finished, "you're even more gorgeous tonight, oh husband of mine."
Arthur smiled, opened his mouth to reply, but Merlin was leaning in again and capturing his lips before he could manage to form a coherent sentence, and he decided, as the kiss deepened, that perhaps he didn't entirely mind Merlin always being a step ahead of him after all.
*