Title: On The Coffee Table
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Fourteen innocent letters.
Word Count: 475
Prompt: #140, letters
Author's Notes: Also covers the prompt of 'tinsel' for my card from the fic tac toe challenge at merlin_writers.
Merlin...wasn't sure if he was drunk. He didn't think he was; he hadn't touched anything alcoholic since the company party and that was last week (God, what a nightmare morning that had been and it had only been marginally better because Arthur, supposedly the man who didn't get hangovers, had suffered worse). Maybe drugged? But no. He had only eaten food from home today and it had all been gotten the day before. Well, it could have been poisoned before he had bought it; this could be some weird food poisoning induced hallucination...who knew?
It didn't change the fact that there was tinsel on the coffee table. Spelling out a question. It was adorable, but odd.
Fourteen innocent letters. They could have been part of something else, another question. But here they were, on his coffee table--a beat up piece of shit they had found on the corner ages ago and which should have been consigned to the rubbish bin the moment they had both gotten better jobs, but no, here it stayed--and it was just...
"Coward," Merlin muttered, frowning.
He looked at their cat who was ignoring the tinsel, surprisingly. Arthur knew better than to bring the tinsel into the house. The last time they had, they'd found it hanging outside of the cat's butt a week later.
"What happened to getting down on one knee and just asking with a ring?" Merlin asked aloud.
"Because it's so overdone," Arthur replied behind Merlin, making him jump.
Merlin turned with a glare, putting his hands on his hips. "Well?"
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Here I am, trying to make a romantic gesture, and all I get is a 'well'? I thought that Christmas was a good time to propose and got Morgana to spell the tinsel so the cat couldn't eat it and leave to pick up dinner and you..." He sighed and put down the take-away bags--it smelled like Indian, Merlin's favourite--so he could kneel on the floor. "I don't have a ring--you don't like them, I remember, but--"
"Get up, you idiot," Merlin sighed, shaking his head.
"Make up your mind," Arthur groused.
Merlin pulled Arthur close. "Yes." He smiled.
"Yes?" Arthur echoed. "Really?"
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, really. Yes, yes, really. I will marry you, you clot pole."
Arthur grinned. "Good. Excellent. Wonderful, actually."
"You don't know what to do now, do you?" Merlin teased.
Arthur frowned. "Well, I...no?"
"Good thing I love you," Merlin sighed. "Come on. Let's plate the food and celebrate our engagement with lots of sex."
"On the fireplace rug?" Arthur asked.
Merlin hummed thoughtfully. "Just the once. And then I want to have sex in bed like a normal person."
"Hey, the kitchen table is a perfectly fine place for an early morning shag."
"Whatever you say, Arthur."