#fluffffffff

Twinkling lights and the sound of vendor owners calling out orders fill the air around them. Jake has that soft, sweet smile as he looks around. Bradley's heart stutters at the sight, and the little box in his pocket suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.

Today is the day.

Today, Bradley is going to propose to Jake.

He's got a plan—a big plan. Well, okay. It's not a big plan, he's not gonna break out into song and dance or rent a blimp to fly by with a banner, or, god forbid, hired a bunch of strangers to do some embarrassing like a flash mob. But he does have a plan.

And it's gonna be great.

Step one of Bradley's great big plan to propose to his long term boyfriend, Jake Seresin: Go to the Christmas market and set the mood. Check.

(And maybe come up with a new name for the plan.)

Jake had been excited when Bradley pitched the idea, over the moon and started making lists of things they could do. Hot chocolate, kissing under the mistletoe, wandering between the vendors and looking at all the little trinkets and snacks. Bradley had let him plan, content to sit by and watch him flutter around with barely concealed delight.

Now they were here and Bradley is getting so nervous he's sweating under his coat.

"Oh my god! B, look at this!" Jake clutches at his bicep and pulls him in the direction of a trinkets table. The low display is covered in a varying degree of stuff—some custom ornaments, personalized picture frames, and even some really cute snow globes. What has Jake's attention though is a wooden picture frame painted a soft shade of green, and covered in tiny roosters. "It's you!"

Groaning, Bradley shakes his head. "Okay, let's go."

The vendor owner laughs. "I bet there's a story there."

Jake beams. "There is!" And then just dives in, explaining to this total stranger where Bradley got the nickname Rooster from (in purely pg editing) and then answers any questions the vendor owner asks with unrestrained glee.

Bradley just watches him, hand on Jake's lower back and feeling warmth blossom in his chest at the sight of Jake's smile, at the sound of Jake's twinkling laughter. This is what he wants to spend the rest of his life doing—not wandering the market on a chilly Christmas eve night, but spending it with Jake. The love of his life, the shining sun that brought brightness back into Bradley's existence. Wants to take him places that will elicit the type of laugh from Jake that feels resplendent. Wants to wake up every single day knowing that this man said yes to him when he asked him to marry him. That Jake chose him for all of these feelings in return.

God. He needs to ask him soon, before he accidentally spills the beans and fumbles the big question.

Jake spends an extra few minutes chatting with the vendor owner—a wonderful woman named Della that reminded Bradley fleetingly of his own mother—before purchasing the rooster picture frame. He brandishes it at Bradley with a proud, smug look. "Ta-da!"

Bradley blinks. "We're not putting that in our house."

"Um, we absolutely are putting it up!" Jake's eyes glitter in the string lights around them, making the normally blue-green eyes shimmer like sea glass. The sight takes Bradley's breath away and makes his heart hiccup and stutter, picking up speed the longer Jake stares at him. "And I know just the picture to put in it!"

Raising a brow. "Oh yeah? Which one?"

"Easy! It's the photo of our—" Jake's eyes widen, and he snaps his mouth shut instantly.

Bradley waits, watching as his boyfriend's cheeks flush a slightly deeper shade of pink than the one caused from the bite of the chilly air. When Jake just continues to look wide eyed and doesn't seem to want to elaborate. Usually Jake only gets like this when he's embarrassed.

And Jake only gets embarrassed if he's trying to make a sex joke and Bradley doesn't get the climax.

Bradley tilts his head with a cheeky smirk. "Were you trying to say you're going to put an elicit and compromising photo of us up on the mantle? In the living room of our home?"

Jake swallows, flush stretching right up to his ears. God, he's so cute. Bradley bites his lip, watching raptly as Jake squirms under his teasing gaze.

Jake eventually ends up swatting lightly at his chest and turning away, muttering a quiet and pouty, "shut up."

Bradley follows him, laughing and feeling light.

Yeah. He wants this.

They wander some more. Jake stops to get some hot chocolate and wrinkles his nose when Bradley orders a peppermint one. Bradley winks at him when he gets it before popping the candy cane into his mouth and sucking on it.

Jake's ears flare pink again as he watches, attention on Bradley's mouth and nothing else.

"Where to next, babe?" He pops the candy cane out of his mouth, grin sharp like a shark and oozing with heat.

"Ugh, you're doing this on purpose." Jake grabs his hand though and leads him away again.

They end up near a stage where a choir is singing melodic Christmas carols. They sound absolutely lovely, like angels. Jake pauses to watch, looking up at them with slightly misty eyes. Bradley doesn't think twice before he curls against Jake's back, arms wrapped snug around his waist and chin on his shoulder. They sway ever so gently to the sound, not talking, just watching.

This might be a good time. Bradley thinks, the ever present weight of the velvet box in his pocket a constant reminder of what he's planning.

The setting is beautiful—snow has begun lightly falling, twinkling in all the string lights as they slowly descend from the heavens. There are people everywhere, laughing and chatting, all light and airy. A bonfire burns brightly within the square, warming the place with it's kindling, filling the air with the scent of ash, burning wood and melting marshmallows.

He could do it. Just drop to one knee right here in this center, with all these people to witness the love shared between them, with the sound of angels singing up on that platform.

He's gonna do it.

Just as he reaches into his pocket for the ring, Jake turns and kisses him. It's heady, the feeling of Jake's lips against his own, tasting faintly of chocolate. Bradley melts into the touch, extracting his hand from his pocket to curl around the nape of Jake's neck, pulling him ever so slightly closer. They fit together like puzzle pieces, all their edges and shades going together perfectly.

When Jake pulls back, he looks bashful and slightly embarrassed, like he didn't mean for the kiss to turn that heated. "We should uh—keep looking around. Maybe there's a food truck nearby?"

Bradley bites back a sigh and resettles the ring back in his pocket before nodding and taking Jake's hand. "I'm sure there is. What did you have in mind?"

Turns out there is a plethora of food trucks just down the way. A taco truck that smells of spice and cheese has Bradley's vote, but Jake has his eyes set firmly on the barbecue truck opposite it, almost salivating at the sight of the trompo of marinating pork turning slowly in the window.

Bradley snickers at his boyfriend's obvious food boner. "Go. Get some barbecue."

Jake looks sheepish. "But we usually share. Or get food from the same place, most of the time."

That is true. But Bradley really wants to try out the tacos de pollo that is being advertised at the taco truck, and Jake looks two quick seconds away from bowling people over just to get to that pork. So he kisses Jake's cheek and swats at his butt playfully, grinning when Jake yelps. "Go. Order enough for the both of us if you want and I'll do the same. We can share then."

Jake practically melts right in front of his eyes. Bradley feels oddly proud. "You'd share your food with me?" Like he doesn't share everything with Jake already.

Like he's not planning to share the rest of his life with Jake.

He pulls Jake into a kiss. "Always." Pecks Jake's cheek before stepping around him and over towards the food truck. "Besides, if I don't like it, then all the more for you, right?"

Jake basically sprints to the other truck and Bradley can't help but laugh at his boyfriend's antics. God, I love him so damn much. He thinks.

I can't wait to marry that man. Is the next thought.

That one makes a smile grow on his lips, and he knows it's painfully fond without actually seeing it.

Ordering, getting their food and then finding a place to sit and eat are all relatively simple tasks. Jake has a literal mountain of meat that he is positively frothing at the bits to dig into. Bradley can admit his own platter of food looks mighty delicious, and has to hold off obscene, indecent noises that threaten to spill past his lips after he takes a bite.

Jake isn't so lucky (or he's doing it on purpose, the brat) in staving off the lewd noises that his food triggers. Bradley feels his ear heat when a few people glance their direction, differing degrees of scandalized at Jake's almost dirty display. Jake is unrepentant though and continues to let out those filthy sounds.

Bradley watches him with barely restrained hunger that has little to do with the delicious food laid out in front of him. Jake is using his hands to eat his barbecue, getting the sauce all over his fingers and a little on his chin. His lips shimmer under the lights from the grease and the sauce, and Bradley can't fathom looking anywhere but directly at them when Jake's pink tongue pokes out to lick off the residue.

When Jake grins, wicked and sharp, Bradley realizes where they are and snaps his gaze up to Jake's own.

"Hey B." Jake tilts his head, pops a finger past his lips and sucks on it noisily before slipping it past his pink lips. Bradley swallows and shifts, suddenly a little more nervous to stand up anytime soon. "See something you like?"

Glaring, Bradley clears his throat. "That was dirty." On two different fronts, technically.

Jake just winks and sticks his next finger into his mouth, making those over exaggerated suckling noises as he diligently cleans his fingers.

Bradley is fairly certain Jake is trying to give him a heart attack. Or a very awkward boner. Either way, Bradley doesn't think they'll be moving from this spot any time soon. So he shoots Jake a pointed look and goes back to enjoying his (now slightly cold) food, trying valiantly to ignore his dirty minded boyfriend.

You could propose to him right now, his mind offers an out. Throw him off his teasing game by turning the tables on him.

It's not a bad idea.

Wiping his fingers on a napkin, Bradley nods once to himself and takes a deep, steadying breath. Yeah, he's gonna do it right here. What could be better timing then over a good meal, and when Jake is being so playful and cute?

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the box.

Jake is busy guzzling down his meat to pay him any mind though, when Bradley raises it up to rest on the table. Doesn't even blink twice at it, just continues with his meal. Bradley frowns, brows furrowing. Maybe he needs to pull it out of the box? Yeah, that probably would be better.

He reaches over to open it—

"Oh! Baby! Look!" Jake's raised voice startles him so bad he almost drops the damn ring!

"What?!" Damn, his heart is racing now. Shit, that was almost really bad.

Jake doesn't seem to realize he's seconds from keeling over, and instead pops up from his seat like a bunny and points further down into the market. "The tree! We have to go see the tree!"

The huge pine in the very middle of the market square was the biggest (ha!) reason that Bradley had chosen this place to go to anyway, so he begrudgingly agrees. Maybe the tree will be a better spot to propose to Jake then over a greasy meal of meat, meat and more damn meat.

They finish up their food, Jake all but shoveling the rest of his pulled pork into his mouth with the flimsy little plastic fork that he procured from…somewhere. He didn't have it earlier when he was busy teasing Bradley with his greasy, saucy, slick fingers.

God dammit, now he's thinking about Jake sucking on his fingers again.

Time to get a moving.

"Alright, c'mon." He raises up from the table they were at and pockets the velvet box, lamenting all of his failed attempts to propose. Doubt begins to curdle his blissful, serene night.

What if this isn't the right time? What if all these failed attempts at picking the right moment means he should just wait?

Jake's fingers interlocking with his pulls him out of his spiral. Jake catches his eyes, a silent question in his own. Bradley takes a few deep, soothing breathes and nods back, smiling slightly.

Even if it isn't the right time, being here with Jake has still been amazing. The whole night has been beautiful, with wonderful scenery and amazing food, lovely entertainment and even better atmosphere. Maybe this is enough, and he shouldn't push the boundaries.

Jake kisses his cheek and smiles back, eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky.

Whatever he decides to do (or not do), at least he knows his love for Jake isn't going anywhere. Isn't gonna wane.

Jake leads them over to the tree, swinging their hands between them gently. Bradley's smile grows the closer they get, because the sight really is beautiful. The tree has to be around 15 feet tall, covered from top to bottom in colourful, twinkling lights. There's tinsel clinging to the pine needles, swaying lightly in the breeze, and garland of all colours wrapped intricately around the branches.

And at the very tippy top of the pine tree sits a large, brightly lit, gleaming gold star. It catches the other lights from the tree and the surrounding areas easily, reflecting them back tenfold.

It's breathtaking.

"Hey B?" Jake sounds…tentative, almost. Shy, even. He's still standing right at Bradley's side, head leaned back to look up at the beautiful Christmas tree in front of them.

"Yeah?" Bradley can see him in his peripheral. Sees his shoulders raise and lower like he's taking deep, slow breathes. Like he's maybe hyping himself up for something.

And then he turns Bradley to face him, eyes glittering under all the shining lights and the tears gathering at his lashes, and—

—drops to one knee.

"What the fuck."

Jake chuckles, wet sounding and hoarse, like he's already crying. "Not quite what I had in mind as a response when I did this."

Bradley blinks down at him, brain short circuiting at the sight.

Jake inhales, then exhales, and sets his gaze in a determined glint. "B, you are my whole god damn world."

Oh.

"Oh."

Shit.

A crowd is growing around them when Bradley finally tunes in to their surroundings, all watching raptly with big smiles.

"Hey, Bradley. Look at me please?" Jake's voice pulls his attention back, and his smile is so damn fond it almost makes Bradley's knees give out. His hand is firm while holding Bradley's. "There you are. My god, you are gorgeous."

Cheeks flaring with heat at the compliment, Bradley groans quietly. "Jake."

Jake's answering grin is all teasing. "What's wrong? I'm only a man of the truth. You're so beautiful, always taking my breath away." Jake takes a deep, slow breath. "And god, have I thought about this moment for so long. I stayed awake at night planning all these elaborate, beautiful ideas. Dreamed of crazy, out of this world, stupid ideas too. But then I realized something—"

Bradley waits, holding his breath. He's pretty sure his fingers have gone numb, and his heart is about two seconds away from busting right out of his chest cavity, but he waits. He'd wait forever.

"I don't need any big, fancy proposals that neither of us want. All I need is you. You, and me, and the simplest, easiest question I could ever ask you."

It feels like the entire square holds his breath with him.

"Bradley Bradshaw, will you do me the honour of marrying me?" Jake uses his free hand to reach into his pocket and pulls out a ring. It's silver, shimmering in the cacophony of lights like a disco ball. It's so beautiful.

Bradley inhales sharply, and he knows there are tears streaming down his cheeks, that there is probably (definitely) snot bubbling in his nose and getting in his mustache, but fuck, fuck, he doesn't give a fuck at all.

Jake wants to marry him.

Jake wants to marry him.

Wants to spend the rest of their lives together. Grow old together. Own a house and maybe get a dog together. Start a family together.

God, Bradley's biggest, brightest dreams all flash in front of his eyes, one after the other. Everything he's ever wanted, right here kneeling in front of him.

Jake clears his throat.

Oh shit.

Bradley's attention snaps back to reality, and Bradley suddenly realizes he hasn't actually said anything.

Oh fuck he never responded.

Jake looks a few more seconds away from crying, or taking the whole speech back. People are muttering around them, clearly thinking Bradley is about to say no. Like Bradley ever could say no.

Instead he drops right to his knees in front of Jake, smile so big it hurts slightly. He's definitely a mess, and probably looks like a disaster, but Jake's smile is worth feeling embarrassed by his tears.

He reaches into his own pocket and pulls out the little box that has been taunting him all damn day and evening, and thrusts it at Jake. "You little shit, you beat me to it." God, his voice is a wreck, hoarse and raspy from the crying.

Jake gapes, then throws his head back with raucous laughter, straight from his belly. When he turns his gaze back to Bradley, he's got tears of his own trailing down his pink cheeks. "You fucking scared me! You jerk! Why didn't you say anything?!"

"Yes." Bradley tackles him, uncaring of the cold ground below them and the uproarious cheering from the gathered strangers, and kisses him intently. "A thousand, million times yes. Even if you beat me to the question."

Jake laughs again, boyish in his unbridled happiness. "I love you so fucking much, B. I saw you pull out the box so many times, but I kept trying to get us here so I could pop the question first."

And yeah, that tracks. Leave it to Jake to make it a competition for who gets to ask the other to marry them first.

Oh well. The outcome is the same.

"We're getting married." Bradley almost doesn't believe it.

Jake kisses him again, then covers his face with more kisses, uncaring of the snot and tears. "Yeah, we are."

They finally get up from rolling around on the damn ground and put their rings on one another before kissing once more, the sound of vociferous cheering wrapping them up like a snug, merry blanket.

Yeah, they were getting married.

Making your way over, you open the door and are met with the hulking figure of Ghost himself, his regular black balaclava and intimidating skull mask replaced with a simpler skull one.

“Simon! Didn’t know you’d be coming by so soon,” you say with a smile, gesturing for him to come in. He does so without hesitation, only humming lowly in response.

He takes note of your outfit, still not yet in tactical gear. Fuzzy yellow socks paired with shorts and one of his sweaters. While you were by no means the tiniest person on the planet, his clothes never managed to make you look like anything but.

‘Cute’ he thought to himself. There was a reason your callsign was ‘Sol’ after all, with you being the bright light of the task force, a glow that rivalled the sun itself. It also meant you burn just as strongly, your proficiency on the battlefield was very proof of that.

He sits down on your bed as if it were his own, which, at this point it practically was. If you weren’t in his room then he was in yours.

You and Simon had been dating for years now, going on 4 years next month. You had both met even before the task force was created, when you were nothing more than a private and he was a Sergeant climbing through the ranks. It was a slow but steady path to get to where you both were now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just look at the man, anyone would do the same.

“Pack all your things for the mission yet?” you ask, stepping into the space between his legs. He only grasped your hips and pulled you in closer.

“Yeah, though I am missing one thing, figured you could help me with it,” he says before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pot of black paint paired with a brush.

You only grin in response, taking them into your own hands.

“Always,” you reply.

It was practically a ritual now, every time you had a mission Simon would get you to do his eyepaint. It was a simple little task, but no less intimate. It served as a grounding before you headed into the heat of battle, allowed for a moment to simply be close, to exist in each others space before you both had to become ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’.

You situated yourself down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the warmth of his large hands seeping through your clothes.

Placing the paint down in your lap for a moment, you return your focus back to him.

“This okay?” you ask softly as your fingers brushed over the edge of his balaclava. Simon only nods slightly. While you couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t allow you to take it off, you still asked every time without fail. It was the least you could do, after all he’s been through.

Tugging off the mask you’re met with his beautiful face. As though crafted by the hands of the Gods himself he glowed in the light of the sun, stealing your breath away.

No matter how many times you’ve seen his face over the years, your reaction never changes.

Brushing your fingers over his face lightly, you pull him close for a tender kiss. No heat or passion, simply love, as though to say “I’m here, as are you. Us, together.” Pulling away, you smile as you look into his honeyed eyes, the love you held for him mirrored in his own.

“Let’s get to it, yeah?” you say.

“Let’s,” Simon murmurs quietly.

Opening up the pot of paint you get to work. No words are said between the two of you, and there didn’t need to be. Instead, you both bask in the comfortable silence and the presence of each other.

With gentle strokes, you apply the black paint, the first of many steps it takes to turn back into ‘Ghost’ when all he had to be was ‘Simon’ with you here on base. But that was the way your worlds worked, it was living two different lives. And while both were your true selves, they remained separate, neither persona belonging in the other’s world.

Methodically you tilt his head back and forth for even application across his eyes while he only relished in your soft touch, eyes closed in domestic bliss.

After a few minutes you were done, and you tapped his cheek with a finger playfully.

“Alright, all done big guy,” you say, but Simon doesn’t move to get up. He only opens his eyes momentarily before pulling you into a hug.

Pulling you as close as you could possibly get, his fingers tangled gently through your hair as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“Simon! You’ll smudge the face paint,” you said with a laugh, “and get it all over my neck. You have any idea how hard it is to get off?” you admonished teasingly, but Simon only shushed you softly.

“Just…let me do this for a moment, love,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. While Simon was sometimes a man of few words, when he spoke he was heard.

“Okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms around him as best you could before also tangling your fingers through his soft blond hair.

You both just sat there holding each other for a little while as the sun continued to set behind you. As the day transitioned into night, and before you both had to turn back into ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’ once more.

She shrugged. “It’s never too early to let you jingle my bells.” She said casually. Your eyes widened at the innuendo. 

She smirked at your shocked expression and enthusiastically continued. 

“I’m decorating for Christmas, babe!” and you didn’t really need to question it any longer. You all needed some extra holiday cheer after this mess of a year, and if it meant decorating for the holidays way before the holidays were set to arrive, so be it. 

“Oh! Babe come here!” She exclaimed and pulled your hand until the both of you were standing underneath the door frame to the kitchen. 

When you looked at her in confusion, she pointed upwards. You followed her hand to see mistletoe hanging above the two of you. Wordlessly, she leaned in for a quick peck before dragging you over to sit at the table. 

“Ok wait, I have more. I made you some special hot chocolate…” her words drifted off as she turned to pick up two mugs from the counter, popping a candy cane in each one. She placed one on the table in front of you and one in front of her as she continued, “with Christmas cheer!”

She sat across from you, beaming, and when you looked down you realized both mugs had “Mrs. Claus” written across them in a loopy script. You both fell into a comfortable conversation; catching up about your week, asking Lisa why she was in such a festive mood. After half of your hot chocolate was gone, Lisa abruptly stood, grabbed her mug and started walking towards the living room, not even sparing a glance over her shoulder as she spoke. 

“Hey, come help me with the Christmas tree! I’ve had these lights tangled for hours and haven’t been able to do anything else.” Which you concluded might’ve been the reason for the “emergency” text, even though you’ve been here for almost an hour and she’s said nothing about them until now. 

“What’s in it for me?” You shout from your spot at the table, taking another sip of your drink. 

Lisa peeked her head around the corner just to tell you that if you help her there’s a pretty good chance that she’ll let you “ride her sleigh” later. You didn’t need any motivation to help her, you were going to do it anyways, but if you did, that would do it, you thought. The holiday themed euphemisms were a new side of Lisa that you were enjoying more than you’d like to admit.

You got up and headed to the living room, spotting Lisa standing in the middle of the room still trying to rid herself of the Christmas lights she was somehow wrapped in. You didn’t even want to ask. 

A crackling fire flickered behind her on the television and holiday music flowed softly out of the speakers. The scent of sugar cookies hit your nose and you looked over to find the culprit: a lit candle on the coffee table with some holiday themed name like “the night before christmas”. It might’ve only been November 1, but you absolutely loved this. 

You hadn’t always been one for holidays. Growing up, your family didn’t have much and your celebrations were nothing exciting. Sure, it taught you that there was more to life than material possessions, but you never really had anything to look forward to. Not holidays, not birthdays, seemingly living every day just as mundane as the last. Until you met Lisa, that is. 

Meeting Lisa was like coming up for air after feeling like you were drowning for so long. She showed you new perspectives, introduced you to new things, and made you genuinely look forward to living life. All of these feelings and emotions were new and exciting to you. 

You knew better than to rely on another person for your happiness, but you had tried it alone for so long that you were beginning to lose yourself in the monotony. So, you let yourself become wrapped up in Lisa. She made every day, even the most mundane ones, feel special and surprising and you were excited to wake up in the morning when in the past you’d been everything but. 

She made every birthday, every holiday (even the made-up ones), and every anniversary, no matter how small, feel exciting. You loved life with Lisa. 

You stood for a while, taking everything in. There was nothing in this moment that you wanted to forget. Sure, to anyone else it was a pretty low key night. You two weren’t really doing anything except putting up some Christmas decorations, but this was more than you were used to and you wanted to remember every second. 

Lisa, noticing you weren’t responding to her ramblings, looked up to find you with a goofy smirk staring back at her. 

“What? Is there something on my face?” Her face morphed into a pout and she raised her hands to touch her face, trying to find the “something” in question. 

You shook your head and laughed, bringing yourself back to reality. 

“No, Lisa, you look great.” 

You stepped forward, placing your mug on the table and taking her hands in yours. 

“I love you.” And although you’ve said it to her countless times before, you couldn’t help but be in love with the way she melted into your arms every time. You were addicted. 

“I love you too.” She responded and placed her head in the crook of your neck. You wished you could stay like this with her forever, but after a few seconds, she shot up. 

“Oh, wait!” She exclaimed, and before you could even respond, she continued. “I got you a matching onesie!”

She left you in the living room as she went to go find the outfit, yelling from the other room, “If you wear this, I’ll make sure you’re on Santa’s nice list tonight!” 

When Arthur entered the room, the floorboards creaked, and Merlin twitched in his sleep. With clumsy movements, he propped himself up on his elbow. His eyes were still closed and his brows were pulled together,

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just me,” Arthur whispered. He knelt down, running a hand over Merlin’s side.

“Ar’ur?” Merlin mumbled, rubbing at his eyes, “You’re not meant to be home for…” His speech trailed off with a yawn.

Arthur pushed Merlin back into the pillows, “Go back to sleep, dolt. You’re barely coherent.”

“You’re barely coherent,” Merlin muttered into his pillow.

Arthur smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to Merlin’s shoulder.

“’ove you,” Merlin slurred, his voice already fading away.

Arthur laughed lightly, “Sleep.”

Merlin obviously didn’t need much encouragement. His breathing evened and soon enough his face went slack with sleep. Arthur sat there for a moment. His feet were still aching from all the walking and standing he had done between airports, and he was grateful to finally be sitting in his own home. Not wanting to disturb his sleep again, Arthur carefully stood up and made his way to the bathroom.

He took a quick shower, feeling much better after having washed away a full day of travel. It was one in the morning, although his body was telling him it was time to wake up and go to work. He sighed and decided he needed to fix his sleep schedule as soon as possible, if he wanted to be a functional person for the next few days. He was tired, but he worried he wouldn’t fall asleep. Then he looked over at the bed, where Merlin was tucked under a pile of blankets, a slight snore coming from him every once and a while. Well, Arthur thought, if anything was going to lull him to sleep…

He turned off the bathroom light and threw his towel onto the hook. As quietly as he could, he slipped underneath the blankets, careful to not jostle Merlin too much.

He moved the body pillow aside and Merlin whined in his sleep at the movement and shimmied backwards, as if trying to find the pillow. Arthur wrapped an arm around his waist, resting a hand on Merlin’s chest, and pressing his chest to Merlin’s back. He tucked his knees so that they were in line with Merlin’s. He pressed his lips to the nape of Merlin’s neck, lingering there for a long while. With a sigh, Arthur’s muscles relaxed, finally, and he settled into his rightful place.

Merlin hummed, “Better,” He did not sound awake, much to Arthur’s amusement.

Arthur kissed his shoulder, “Missed you.”

Merlin wiggled backwards, somehow cramming himself even further into Arthur’s embrace. He sighed and settled in again.

Arthur was surprised when he woke a few hours later. He thought he would doze but hadn’t expected to fall asleep. He took in a deep breath and stretched. He felt Merlin shift next to him, and then all of a sudden, there was a squawk and Merlin was on top of him.

“Good morning,” Arthur huffed out a laugh as Merlin wrapped his arms around him, his full weight on Arthur.

“You’re home!” Merlin said, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“Were you awake at all last night?” Arthur laughed as Merlin peppered kisses all over his face.

“I didn’t fully process it,” Merlin said, grinning down at him unabashedly. “Why are you home early?”

“Agreement settled sooner than planned,” Arthur said, wrapping his arms around Merlin, holding him close. “Did you miss me?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Don’t get a big head about it.” Merlin flopped back down onto the bed so that he was next to Arthur, face to face.

“Breakfast in bed?” Arthur asked coyly.

“And you expect me to make it?” If Merlin was meant to sound annoyed, he failed by the fact that he was grinning widely.

Arthur fluttered his lashes at him, which made Merlin laugh and push him away, “Fine, but only because you’ve been travelling.”

“In a minute,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin close again. “Stay here for a bit.”

Merlin hummed in an agreement, moving Arthur around so that he was tucked into Merlin’s arms. Arthur felt Merlin kiss his neck, and Arthur sighed.

“Better,” He said, mimicking Merlin’s words the previous night.

“Much better,” Merlin said, already sounding sleepy again.