Title: The Email Order Bridegroom, Chapter 49
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Arthur had a plan to stay in the United States. That plan was Merlin. It worked.
Warnings: Ridiculous fluff.
Word Count: 653
Prompt: 239 Hunger
Author's Notes: This is a continuation of The Email Order Bridegroom which sharts here
Clyde is at his side the moment Merlin opens the refrigerator, trying to push Merlin away from the door with one muscular shoulder. Merlin stands his ground.
“Gwaine may let you eat straight out of the fridge but we're a bit less relaxed around here,” he chastises, nudging Clyde with his knee as he’s pulling out orange juice and bread. The dogs huffs and falls to the ground like he’s been shot. Merlin rolls his eyes at the furry drama queen.
He pours the juice into a tumbler and puts a slice of bread in to toast before opening a can of dog food and upending it into the stainless steel bowl Gwaine had left. He sets it down next to the water bowl and the dog is immediately muzzle deep in canned chicken and wild rice, loudly pushing the bowl back and forth across the tiles until it’s finally wedged against the kitchen counter and the racket stops. He’s licked the bowl clean before the toaster dings and trots back to Merlin’s side, jumping up to see what Merlin’s got for him next. Merlin pulls the toaster well out of reach with one hand, pushing Clyde down with the other.
“You’ve had your breakfast. This is mine,” he scolds. “Go lie down while I eat, then we can go for a run.” Clyde woofs quietly and disappears into the living room, returning seconds later with his leash in his mouth.
Arthur’s up by the time they tumble back into the kitchen, both panting from the exertion of their run. Clyde goes straight to his water bowl and Merlin chugs two glasses of water at the sink as Arthur looks on. “Good run?” he asks, obviously amused.
“Good pull, more like,” Merlin says between pants. “I don’t think Gwaine has to hit the gym at all with this guy around. It’s going to take some getting used to. Also, you could have warned me picking up dog shit is so disgusting,” Merlin shudders.
Arthur grimaces, “Thanks. I haven’t eaten yet and that's a memory I'd happily repressed.”
“Just sharing the ick,” Merlin says with a small smile. “And I don’t think this dog has been trained to do anything but chase cats, squirrels and delivery trucks. Gwaine is a big fibber.”
Arthur laughs, “We knew that already.”
Clyde looks between them like he’s delighted they’re talking about him and his owner. Merlin bends down to pet him, peering back up at Arthur through his sweaty hair. “You two looked awfully cozy this morning. Should I be jealous?”
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur says, blushing to the tips of his ears.
“Sure you don’t,” Merlin laughs, straightening up and pushing his hair off his forehead. “I’m going to shower. I’ve got to be at the theater by ten but I’d like to get there early to settle in before the run through.” Merlin’s almost out of the kitchen when he notices Clyde sidling up to Arthur at the counter, nudging Arthur’s thigh with his paw. He stops walking, turning to see what the dog is up to.
Arthur’s absently staring out the back window. He reaches down to pat Clyde’s head. The dog paws at him again so he glances down. Clyde looks at his empty bowl then back at Arthur. “Oh, sorry, I thought Merlin already fed you,” Arthur says to the dog.
“Merlin already did,” Merlin laughs from the doorway. “Points for effort, though,” he says to Clyde. “You nearly got another breakfast.”
Arthur narrows his eyes at the dog. “And after I let you stay in bed with us when you snuck in last night. I feel played.”
“You almost were. Again,” Merlin says “but we won’t be taken in twice.”
“No we won’t,” Arthur says firmly. Clyde grins back at them both, looking like he doesn’t believe a word.
Merlin really doesn’t believe it either.