Rating: T (mentions of blood)
Summary: After a near-death experience, Arthur decides what’s truly important to him and acts accordingly.
The moment Arthur walked in the door, he marched straight into the kitchen where his boyfriend was cooking dinner. Alfred was turned away from him, standing over the stove with an apron tied around his waist and humming along to himself with his headphones in. The sight only fueled Arthur’s determination, his affection for Alfred swelling up within him, and he approached rapidly to take Alfred by the shoulder and twist him around. Alfred started and then relaxed, smiling as Arthur gently pulled the headphones from his ears and took him by his biceps, holding him in place.
“Marry me.” Arthur said immediately, green eyes boring intently into Alfred’s blue.
Alfred blinked, confused. Then, his bright eyes flitted over his boyfriend’s face and his brows furrowed. “Artie, what happened?” He asked worriedly, reaching his hand up touch a large piece of gauze taped to the man’s cheek.
“I got mugged,” Arthur said simply, waving a pale hand as if it were no matter. “But that’s not what’s important right now. I want to—“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—you got mugged?!” Alfred interrupted, immediately worried.
Upon further inspection, Alfred discovered much to support his boyfriend’s words. Dried blood was caked below Arthur’s left nostril, the shoulder of his suit jacket had been torn, his slacks were covered in dirt, and his knuckles were bloody. Alfred’s eyes went wide in shock and he quickly took Arthur’s face in his hands, running a gentle hand along the freckles upon the Brit’s other, unwounded, cheek.
“Honey, are you alright? Sit down and tell me what happened—I’ll call the police.” Alfred said quickly.
“No need, everything’s been taken care of. I fought them off and called the police—I still have all of my things and I’m perfectly healthy.”
Alfred stood there, gaping, eyes roaming across the Brit’s figure as though he would be able to detect any injuries the police hadn’t. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked worriedly.
“Yes,” replied Arthur, somewhat exasperated, “but this is distracting from the point. Alfred, I want to get married.”
The younger man looked at his boyfriend as though he’d grown a second head. “You—what? Why all of a sudden?”
“Well, as I was standing there staring down the barrel of that man’s gun—“
“What?!” Alfred interrupted with a sharp cry.
Arthur gave him a look and carried on. “As I was standing there, realizing that I could be taking my last breath, I was only thinking of one thing: you. Your brilliant smile, your gorgeous eyes, how amazing you are in every way… And I realized: I never want to be parted from you. I want to live, and I want to live by your side. I don’t have a ring yet, but I’ll buy you one, along with anything else you want. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Alfred. I want to marry you.”
Arthur was gazing at Alfred with sheer determination in his eyes, gripping the man’s arms tightly. Belatedly, he realized he should be kneeling and dropped to the floor on one knee, his hands sliding down the length of Alfred’s arms until he’d captured his boyfriend’s tan, calloused hands in his. Then, heart pounding madly against his rib cage, he looked expectantly up into Alfred’s face.
“Okay,” Alfred grinned, the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “I wanna marry you too, Arthur.”
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