#moro-

Arthur didn’t know the first thing about science, despite eagerly listening to Alfred’s passionate ramblings about the solar system, but he did know that he was immensely proud of the man he was lucky enough to call his partner. Not only was he so visibly intelligent, but he was passionate, and funny, and considerate, and such an unbearable sweetheart that Arthur found himself thinking he might burst at times from overflowing with love for the man. But even with all his wonderful assets, Alfred was still a remarkable idiot.

It had sort of startled him at first, when the man in the cafe who told him all about the planetary system he was studying had turned up to their first official date complaining of the discomfort of his dress shoes, only for Arthur to point out that they were on the wrong feet. He constantly managed to surprise and entertain Arthur with the depth of his stupidity. Including the wonderful occasion he had, in checking if the milk was in date, upended the entire contents on himself for forgetting to replace the lid.

He was an awful scatterbrain, misplacing and forgetting things that had Arthur realising how truly, madly, deeply in love with Alfred he was, for if he’d had to drive to anyone else’s work with the pair of glasses they’d accidentally placed in the laundry for the third time he would surely have washed his hands of them. But Alfred did always greet him with the most adoring, sheepishly thankful smile whenever he replaced Alfred’s jar of pickles with the mug of coffee he had meant to drink and he would feel his knees weaken like some besotted teenager. Which, poetic sap that he was, he had to think was a true enough description of himself even as he broached thirty.

Though little of that passing stupidity would ever compare to that afternoon.

“What?” Arthur stared, blank and dumbfounded back at Alfred’s completely unassuming face.

“I said would you prefer it if I planned some fancy elaborate proposal or would you like a spur of the moment kinda thing? I wanna get it right.”

Arthur continued to stare, reeling from the implication, or rather brazenly straightforward meaning of those words. He was frozen, mug of tea stopped halfway to his mouth as Alfred stared right back at him, ever patient, evidently completely unaware of what he had just done.

Arthur attempted to swallow, willing some moisture back into his suddenly very dry throat.

“Sp-- Spontaneously, I suppose.” He eventually replied, voice hoarse and tongue heavy, feeling clumsy in his mouth as he found the reply.

And Alfred beamed at him. Unabashed and cheek-splittingly wide with such enthusiasm and warmth that had Arthur been the ice cube he so felt himself to be he should surely have melted on the spot.

“Great! I’ll remember that.” Alfred stepped forward, pressing a kiss to Arthur’s forehead as he grabbed his keys. “Text me if you remember anything we need.”

Arthur nodded dumbly, barely able to mumble his goodbye as Alfred left in pursuit of their weekly groceries. He stared after him even as the door closed, all but frozen to the spot as his mind whirred with his new reality. He reached out for the back of a kitchen chair, finding suddenly that he needed the support to sit before his legs gave out from under him. His mug was still gripped in one hand, reminding him with a start that he had in fact been doing something before Alfred had so nonchalantly and with not the slightest self-awareness bulldozed him once again with the extent of his stupidity.