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It all started when they were on their way home and they bumped into another couple who were exiting a shop.
They apologised, smiled, and asked if they were okay. All the usual niceties one has to go through when bumping into a stranger. After they walked off, Arthur looked over to the shop.
“Wedding rings…” he mused.
“Huh?” Alfred followed his line of sight, “oh.”
The pair were silent for a moment, their minds no doubt filling with thoughts they daren’t share with the other.
“I suppose that couple must’ve been getting married,” Arthur thought aloud, immediately feeling foolish for stating something so obvious.
“Yeah, I guess,” Alfred agreed casually as the pair began walking again. “Suckers.”
Arthur looked up, an eyebrow raised, “is that really what you think of marriage?”
“Depends,” he said quickly, “what do you think of marriage?”
Arthur laughed, noting with an amused smirk, “slick.”
Alfred grinned shamelessly, “well, what do you think?”
After a moment's consideration Arthur answered, “I think it’s a nice way of showing your love for someone.”
“Is that it? A nice way of showing your love.”
“Well, what do you think?”
“I think it’s one of the best days of your life. Getting to throw a huge ceremony and then reception for your family and friends. Everyone there just to celebrate you and the person you love. Like one big party!”
Arthur pulled his brows into a look of distaste while, on the inside, he was unable to ignore the way his heart fluttered at Alfred’s words. He may have been a walking cliché, but Arthur would be damned if he wasn’t completely smitten by that walking cliché.
“Do you have to be so awfully cheesy all the time?”
Arthur pulled back slightly as Alfred leaned down, pressing his idiotic grin into Arthur's scowl.
“You love it.”
Arthur could only roll his eyes, otherwise he might’ve done something stupid like kiss the foolish man.
But it seemed that said fool was already ahead of him as he leaned down to steal a kiss instead.
The talk of marriage seemed to end there, and the rest of the walk home was filled with idle chit chat about which Captain America film was the best. (Alfred said it was Winter Soldier and Arthur, having never been able to stay awake during a single one, didn’t have an opinion on the matter.)
***
It was an innocent enough conversation that, on the surface, seemed to lead nowhere in particular. But underneath, the pair were hatching separate plots that turned out to be incidentally identical.
Arthur revisited the shop the next day, telling Alfred he was popping out to buy some more milk. When he came back he had the milk, and he also had a 14 karat, sapphire diamond engagement ring that he thought would match Alfred's eyes. And, although he would never choose anything so showy for himself, he knew Alfred would appreciate the ostentation of it.
Alfred went back to the shop on his way home from work a few days later, and came out with a simple grey band and an engraving on it that said ‘to my love’ because he knew Arthur would appreciate the simplicity.
***
Arthur's plan was to spend the evening at home. He wanted to propose on a normal night, when it was just the two of them, and the experience could be theirs alone.
He wanted the evening to be perfect for Alfred, so he’d ordered them a pizza, bought some soda and a few beers on his way home and even offered to watch, “that superhero film you love so much.”
It was all going according to plan; they were snuggled up on the sofa, Alfred had finished his pizza, they were drinking their beers, and Alfred had his arm around Arthur as he leant against his chest.
But in all his planning, there was one thing that Arthur never accounted for: Alfred. The boy was a dumbass, sure, but by no means was he dumb. Alfred’s suspicions had been aroused, first of all, due to the fact Arthur had offered to watch a superhero film with him, something which he rarely did. Added to the fact that they were over half way through and Arthur was still awake, his scepticism only grew further.
It wasn’t until Arthur crawled out from underneath Alfred’s arm and turned to look at him with such an earnest glow in his eyes that he knew something serious was going to happen. He should’ve seen it coming! Alfred was smarter than this, and he knew Arthur better than anyone. He cursed himself for being caught off guard.
“Alfred,” Arthur began, “you're the most dear thing in the world to me. I...I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Alfred gulped. Arthur was going to do it. That bastard was really going to propose. And before Alfred.
“And...what do you do when you find someone that you love and with whom you share such a special connection? ...Alfred-”
"Wait!"
Alfred didn't know what else to say. He just knew that he needed to get Arthur to stop talking before he said something that Alfred would regret.
Arthur looked at him, more than a little concerned, "what's wrong, love?" He asked as he moved a hand to rest on Alfred's thigh.
Alfred's mind went blank. He looked at Arthur, mouthing for words that wouldn't come to him.
"Alfred?"
"I need to use the bathroom!"
Arthur's brows went from furrowed in concern to raised in surprise as he looked at Alfred, quite speechless.
“Can’t it wait? I have something rather important to ask you.”
“I’m really gonna pee my pants, babe.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. Alfred hadn’t ‘peed his pants’ since he was six years old, a fact that Arthur knew all two well having baby-sat the man throughout most of their childhood. Despite his suspicions, however, Arthur really didn’t fancy cleaning piss out of their newly upholstered sofa and so he waved Alfred off.
“Alright, fine. Go pee,” he sighed, “God, you’re a child.”
What the hell do I see in this man? Oh, that’s right. Arthur received his answer as he watched Alfred stand up and turn around, revealing his two most favourite things in the entire world.
Arthur smiled from behind the couch as he watched Alfred’s butt walk away, “don’t take too long.”
“I won’t!” Alfred called as he ran to the bathroom.
And of course, like an idiot, Arthur believed him. He waited downstairs for 15 minutes, which was, in his opinion, 14 minutes too long to wait for someone to pee.
With a sigh, he pushed himself up and made his way to the bottom of the stairs, “Alfred! What are you doing?”
No reply.
“Are you having a shit?”
It was quiet for a moment and Arthur received continued silence until Alfred burst out from their bedroom and headed down the stairs.
“What were you doing in there?” Arthur called, suddenly overcome with several emotions. Confusion, irritation, and a sprinkling of anxiety. Hardly built for dealing with one emotion at a time, his heart nearly gave out.
“I’m sorry, I have to go see Matt. It’s urgent.”
“What? Has something happened? Is he okay?” Everything else he had just felt was then wiped away and replaced with a rather urgent sense of panic, “do you need me to come with you?”
Alfred smiled at Arthur reassuringly as he reached the bottom of the stairs and grabbed his coat. He looked at Arthur as he took his hands in his own, “don’t worry, nobody’s hurt or anything. Stay here, okay? I’ll be back later tonight.”
“Well if it’s not that urgent, maybe…”
Arthur faltered. He wanted to ask Alfred to stay - wanted to get his question out before he lost his nerve.
But then something occurred to him.
He’d all but said the words back in the living room, and it didn’t take an idiot to work out where he was going with that.
So why did he run off? Could it be that Arthur wouldn’t have got the answer he wanted from Alfred? Could it be that he was running away because he was going to refuse Arthur’s proposal?
Arthur didn’t want to think about that possibility, but the thoughts were unrelenting.
With a sigh, he looked up at Alfred. Fearing the worst, he forced a smile upon his face, his eyes drifting off to the side, “I’ll wait here. Go see Matt. I’ll see you later.”
As if sensing something sombre within Arthur, Alfred’s resolve hardened. He caught Arthur’s face between his hands and forced the shorter man to look at him, “I love you.”
His words were curt, his tone soft, and it helped to reassure Arthur.
Before Arthur could return the sentiment, Alfred pressed their lips together and kept them there longer than Arthur expected. It almost left him breathless and he stared up at the man rather dazed as he spoke, “I love you, too.”
Alfred was then out of the door before he had a chance to ask what the hell that was all about.
It took a few moments of staring bewilderedly at the door for Arthur to finally heave a sigh and drag himself back into the living room, where he picked up his mobile and called the only person he knew would sit and listen to his woes.
“I’m coming over!” was all he said before hanging up the phone.
Francis answered the door the same way he usually did when he knew Arthur was coming round, with a grimace.
“You just assume I do not have any guests?” Francis’ features were twisted in a prickly manner but his tone was far from annoyed.
“Please,” Arthur scoffed as he stepped inside and hung his coat up in Francis' hallway, “it’s Thursday night. Like you’d miss an episode of Desperate Housewives to entertain guests.”
Francis looked slightly more peeved following the remark. But only slightly.
“You are here,” Francis countered.
“I’m special,” Arthur stated with a diabolic smirk.
Francis rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. He followed Arthur into the kitchen where he watched the man raid his cupboard for a bottle of wine. He found one in record time and had a glass filled on the counter before Francis even had a chance to blink.
“Here,” Arthur urged for Francis to take the glass.
“Ah. Merci,” he took it, a little surprised at the gesture.
Until he saw Arthur raise the bottle to his lips and take a large gulp.
Francis nearly choked on his own glass, although he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised.
“If you’re going to do that,” Francis sighed as he opened a draw to his side, “at least use this,” he placed a straw neatly in the bottle as Arthur gave him a questioning look, “I have just had the carpet in the living room cleaned and I don’t want you making a mess.”
Arthur rolled his eyes but put up little resistance. There was no point in disputing just how ‘messy’ he got when he was drunk. He’d seen the videos, the pictures, the drunk texts and voicemails. In fact, Francis wouldn’t let him forget about them.
“Alors,” Francis sighed as he tapped the empty space next to him on the sofa, “tell me what’s gotten you drowning your woes in a bottle of red again. It must be quite awful if you’re not even using a glass.”
“I think Alfred might break up with me.”
“Quoi?” Francis leaned over, a hand finding Arthur’s thigh, “what on Earth would make you think that?”
Arthur gazed at the floor silently as he sucked what looked like more than a couple mouthfuls of wine up through the straw. When he finally turned to look at Francis he sighed, “I was going to propose tonight.”
A gasp escaped Francis’ mouth and he raised a hand to his chest, earning him a sharp look from Arthur.
“I...I bought a ring and everything. I had it all planned out. I bought us takeout, we watched his favourite film. I wanted to make everything perfect for him when I…proposed.”
“So, what stopped you?”
“Alfred,” Arthur sighed, “he ran out before I could ask him.”
“Ah,” Francis said in quiet understanding, “did he say anything?”
“He said he needed the toilet, and then when I went to check on him, he ran out saying that Matthew called and he needed to go see him urgently.”
“And you think he was lying?”
“Well I don’t think he was telling the truth,” Arthur closed his eyes and sighed as he let his head fall into his hand, “God, you should have seen him, Francis! He looked so tense, so scared, like he knew what I was about to say. He definitely knew what I was about to say,” Arthur groaned, “I knew it was too soon! Agh, I’m such an idiot!”
“Oh, pépite, you are not an idiot,” Francis sighed softly as he raised a hand to wipe away one of Arthur’s alcohol induced tears, “Are you sure that’s why he ran away? It does not seem like him at all.”
“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you, but you didn’t see his face! He looked so…” Arthur trailed off into a small sob until he was fully weeping into his bottle of wine, “he doesn’t want to marry me, Francis!”
“Come here,” Francis cooed as he brought Arthur’s head onto his shoulder, stroking the crying man’s hair soothingly, “it’s okay. I’m sure you have made a mistake. I know Alfred. Granted, not as much as you do...but, if I know one thing, it’s that there is no way that man does not want to marry you.”
“You didn’t see him, Francis…”
“I didn’t need to, I see him all the time when he looks at you. That man is in love with you, Arthur. Unfortunately, I think you’re stuck with him.”
“Then why did he run off?” he pouted.
Francis waggled his eyebrows knowingly at Arthur’s demand, “perhaps our dashing knight had plans of his own to propose. You know how he is, how you both are, always having to come first.”
“I don’t…” Arthur started to protest but suddenly the gears shifted into place and everything made sense. That kiss, that ‘I love you’ as he left. Those weren’t the actions of someone who wanted to break up.
“That little git!”
Francis couldn’t help but smile as the fire returned to Arthur’s cheeks.
“If he thinks he’s going to propose first…” he shook his head, “oh, Francis, I’m going to get him. Mark my words, I’m going to be the one to propose. I have a ring and everything!”
“You know, he probably has a ring too.”
“You think?” Arthur was surprised by the notion but let out a small gasp as he remembered the jewellers they passed at which he had sparked his own epiphany, “the shop...he must’ve gone back and...oh my god. Francis, this is unbelievable.”
“I know,” he sighed as he emptied the remnants of his wine into his mouth, “as if your love for one another wasn’t nauseating enough already.”
Francis rolled his eyes at the sight of Arthur smiling so intently to himself, probably not even paying attention to Francis’ words. Well, at least he isn’t crying anymore, he thought.
~~~
"He totally beat me to it, Matt!" Alfred groaned.
He wasn't technically lying when he said he needed to go to Matt's urgently. His plans of proposing to Arthur had almost been usurped. And if that wasn't urgent, he didn't know what was. He needed someone to talk to, get advice from. And the one person he could usually talk to, was the one person he couldn't.
"You two are really something, you know that?" Matt sighed as he shook his head, but he couldn't help a smile, "competing over a wedding proposal? You're hopeless, Al."
Alfred frowned, "I just know that I wanna be the one to do it. To...to be able to see the look on his face when I ask him...I want to make him happy, y'know. I wanna show him how much I love him. Is that too much to ask?"
"No, not at all," Matt shook his head, in response to Alfred's question but also in retaliation to his stubbornness, "but...don't you think you're being a tad too headstrong about this? I mean obviously Arthur wanted to propose too, why not just let him?"
"That's only because he hasn't seen my proposal yet."
"Oh? And what's that going to be?"
"I'm glad you asked," he grinned, "I'm gonna take him to his favourite restaurant. The one we went to on our third ever date. I'm going to give the ring to a waiter beforehand to put in the cake, romantic stylez. And so when he sticks his fork into it. Bam! Ring!”
"Just like in the movies," Matt smiled fondly, warmed by his brother's naivete.
"Exactly!" Alfred beamed, his metaphorical puppy dog tail wagging incessantly.
"There's really no talking you out of this, is there?"
"Nope."
"Well then good luck, my friend, because your future husband is just as stubborn as you, if not more so. And I bet he's not going to give up either."
Alfred snorted, "we'll see about that."
~~~
“I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Let’s go out to dinner!”
Arthur spat his toothpaste into the sink before glancing to the spot next to him where Alfred stood struggling over his necktie in the mirror. Arthur had just woken up; he had the day off and he was relishing his lie in. Alfred, on the other hand, had to leave for work in 5 minutes, so he was in a bit of a rush.
It seemed to be a special skill of his - no matter how early he set his alarm, he was always struggling to leave on time. Arthur suspected it had something to do with his subpar skills at knotting ties.
“Oh, sure,” Arthur hummed, still subdued from the early morning haze, “where were you thinking?”
“Feliciano’s?”
“We’ve been there before,” Arthur thought aloud, “on one of our first dates.” He looked at Alfred, “why that place?”
Alfred’s throat bobbed minutely. A sign Arthur usually might’ve caught, but he was sleepy this morning and Alfred’s neck was hidden behind his fumbling hands.
“You like the deserts, right?”
“I do,” Arthur replied with a yawn that Alfred would’ve called cute had Arthur not dubbed the word 'blasphemous' and warned Alfred never to utter it in his presence again lest he want his head bitten off.
“Then it’s a date!” he grinned, hands falling to his hips, having seemingly given up on his tie, “My treat.”
“How kind of you,” Arthur smiled at him fondly, as he took hold of the man’s tie and finally completed the task that he had been struggling through for 10 minutes. Once the tie had been fixed, Arthur let his hands drift across Alfred’s shirt as if ironing out the non-existent wrinkles. A second later he was engulfed in Alfred’s arms and pinned down by his earnest gaze, “shouldn’t you get going? You’re going to be late.”
“I just have one more thing that I have to do.”
“Oh?” Arthur barely had a chance to raise the end of the syllable before Alfred’s hands were on his cheeks and he was pulled into a deep kiss that seemed to last forever. When Alfred pulled away he glanced at his watch and grinned.
“Okay, now I’m really going to be late,” he pursed his lips, seemingly at war inside his own head, “okay, just one more.”
Arthur grinned into the kiss, warm chuckles hitting Alfred’s lips. He let the man steal a few quick pecks, and felt himself giving in as his tongue wormed its way in.
“Enough,” he said, but his stern tone didn’t quite match up with the grin on his face, “Or you’ll actually be late.”
Alfred smiled as he intertwined Arthur’s fingers with his own, bringing the delicate hand to brush against his lips, “you’re supposed to be the one begging me to stay.”
“If I did that, you’d never leave.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Go,” Arthur said slowly, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
Alfred released an overdramatic groan, “fine,” he sighed as he walked past Arthur through their bedroom. He turned back over his shoulder and shot Arthur a terribly cheesy grin, “he hates to seem me go, but he loves to watch me walk away.”
Arthur’s eye roll was virtually automatic but the smile wouldn’t leave his face, “I hate you.”
“I love you too, darlin’,” he grinned before dashing out of the house.
~~~
When Alfred arrived home that evening, he took his coat off and hung it on the banister, leaving his bag by the door before calling up to Arthur. When no reply came, he checked the living room and kitchen before making his way up to their bedroom. It looked empty, but Alfred could hear water running from their bathroom.
With a dastardly smirk, he kicked his shoes off and began loosening his tie as he crossed the room. His shirt came off next, then his pants, until he was standing outside of their bathroom in his Captain America boxers, “you in there, Artie?” he called softly as he pushed the door open.
At the creak, Arthur looked up, “is that you, Alfred?” he asked as he stuck his head around the curtain.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked with a smirk as he slipped out of his underwear.
“Looks like you’re going to, regardless,” Arthur said through an affectionate smile as Alfred stepped in beside him.
Alfred only grinned shamelessly as he stood face to face with Arthur, steaming water gushing against his back. He raised his hands to cup Arthur’s face, squishing his cheeks in a way that Arthur always scowled at, but that was only because he couldn’t see just how adorable he looked when Alfred did it.
Alfred looked at him, his smile growing exponentially as he gazed into the eyes of the grumpy old man in front of him. The grumpy old man that he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with. No thought had ever made him happier.
“What on Earth are you thinking about, idiot?”
Alfred sighed through a smile, “just how beautiful you look.”
Arthur didn’t have a reply for that. He never did usually have one that wasn’t, ‘idiot’ or ‘shut up’ and instead blushed profusely. Which was a type of communication in and of itself for Arthur, one that said ‘please stop, I’m going to implode’.
Alfred could only chuckle as he sensed Arthur’s thoughts, “love you,” he said simply before placing a soft kiss against his lips. One that turned quite intense. The deeper Alfred pushed against Arthur, the deeper he pushed back, until Arthur was against the tiled wall, back pressed against it, as Alfred’s mouth wandered down to his neck, attacking the soft flesh with a fervent hunger.
“Alfred,” his name escaped Arthur in a soft gasp that was lost amongst the sound of the rushing water, “Alfred...”
His fingers weaved their way through Alfred’s damp hair, pulling at the ends lightly, "you should cut your hair."
Alfred lifted his head up, breathing heavily, “I’ll get right on that," he chuckled.
His fingers found Arthur's hips, lightly dancing over his skin, tickling him softly. Arthur reached up to wrap his arms around Alfred's neck, locking the man in as they kissed again.
Arthur released an longing whimper as Alfred pulled away, kissing along Arthur's chin, down his neck, across his chest. And then he was kneeling at Arthur's feet and he was moaning for an entirely different reason.
Alfred's mouth closed around Arthur's cock, already full and twitching and begging for more. His hands reached for Alfred's hair, the wall, the shelves, anywhere he could grab to steady himself as his legs began to turn to jelly. Meanwhile, Alfred's hands reached for Arthur's hips, moulding to the curves of his body perfectly.
Arthur’s breath caught in his throat and he moaned, gasping for air with every move that Alfred made, “Alfred...fuck.”
He got a moment of release as Alfred leaned back to shove his middle finger into his mouth, coating it in spit before positioning it against Arthur’s entrance. Lining it up delicately, he danced around the outside before slipping inside. A short, sharp gasp escaped Arthur as Alfred’s name was ripped from his mouth again and again.
He melted into Alfred’s touch, into the skilful movements of his fingers, the tight embrace of his lips around his dick. But it wasn’t quite enough.
Arthur moaned impatiently, a delicate hand reaching to caress Alfred’s cheek, “Al..Alfred.”
Alfred’s tongue slid off from around Arthur’s erection, a delicate line of saliva trailing after it. He looked up at Arthur through his lashes, dusted with water droplets, his cheeks just as red and glowing as Arthur’s.
Arthur leaned down to press his face against Alfred’s, breathing heavily as he gazed at the man with hooded eyes.
“Fuck me.”
Alfred’s eyes lit up at the words and he started panting with excitement, like a dog hearing the word ‘walkies’.
Alfred bit his lip as he stood up to press Arthur against the wall, kissing him deeply, sensually as his hands stroked any section of spare skin they could find.
“I love you,” he breathed against Arthur’s lips.
“I love you,” Arthur smiled.
Without wasting any time, he leaned out of the shower and fumbled through the cabinet to find a bottle of lube. He spread some over his erection as Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred’s neck, clinging to him as he pulled him in for a rather enthusiastic kiss.
Alfred’s hands travelled from Arthur’s cheeks, tracing every curve of his body until Alfred was gripping his thighs, his fingers sinking in like the claws of an eagle snatching up a tiny mouse. Arthur gasped as he was pushed further into the wall, his eyes locked with Alfred’s in an ardent gaze and his legs wrapped around his waist.
He moaned as Alfred slipped inside him, a whimper shrouded in gasps of Alfred’s name that grew into screams the faster he went, the deeper thrusted, the more he stretched Arthur open as his dick grew harder.
“Artie,” Alfred moaned as Arthur’s nails dug into his back, the lacerations against his skin stinging so sweetly, “fuck. I love you.”
Arthur gasped as he clung to Alfred’s broad shoulders for dear life. The air around them turned suffocating, nothing could be heard but whispered ‘I love you’s and cusses and cries of pleasure. But all of that was lost to the outside world through the blasting water of the shower head, and all that existed in that moment was them.
“Alfred,” Arthur gasped into the larger man’s neck, “I’m going to…”
A high pitched moan was dragged from his chest as he fell limp against Alfred. His stomach covered in a congealing mess, he’d need to get washed all over again now. Tch.
Alfred pulled out with a satisfied gasp, still dearly holding onto Arthur. His grip slowly loosened and he let Arthur fall onto the floor, standing in front of him. His hands found the sides of Arthur’s cheeks delicately and he looked into his eyes before bringing Arthur’s face closer to kiss him.
Arthur moaned softly into the kiss, his fingers weaving through Alfred's hair before he pulled away, gasping at the wet, red faced man in front of him.
"You always know how to make a mess, don't you?" Arthur tutted through an unmistakeable smile.
"Didn't hear you complaining half an hour ago," Alfred smirked back, pressing his smug grin against Arthur's blushing face.
"You're an idiot," he muttered.
"You're gorgeous," Alfred countered with a soft peck to Arthur's nose.
He reached past as the shorter man rolled his eyes, to grab the bottle of shampoo. Arthur watched him with folded arms as he poured the shampoo onto his palm and began to lather it through his hair. His arms reached above his head in a way that put his muscular chest on display, and as Arthur looked at him, mouth watering, he realised the idiot was doing it on purpose.
He huffed as he grabbed his shower gel from the side and proceeded to wash the mess from his stomach, stealing glances every so often at his soon to be fiancé's toned chest.
After that, they got ready and Arthur didn't think much of it. He threw on a pale blue shirt and an old argyle sweater vest. He looked at himself in the mirror in the hall as he waited for Alfred. The man was taking an age, just like usual. Always fussing over his appearance as if he didn't look effortlessly flawless all the time anyway.
Arthur tutted as he turned around to call up to Alfred when he saw the man in question descend the stairs. Arthur raised a brow at his choice of attire.
"You look rather dashing," he noted with a smile as his eyes wandered the length of Alfred's figure. He was in a crisp white shirt, tucked into pressed black trousers which clung to his legs nicely. The top button on his shirt was left unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows, putting those godly forearms of his on display.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs, legs crossed, jacket draped over his shoulder as he grinned at Arthur, and it was true: he did look rather dashing.
"What's the occasion?" Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"What?" Alfred asked, feigning nonchalance, "can't a man just wanna look nice for his boyfriend on their date night?"
“Well he can, but he’s going to make said boyfriend feel quite underdressed,” Arthur admitted dryly.
Alfred frowned as he descended the rest of the stairs, “what are you talking about? You look perfect!”
Alfred threw his jacket over the bannister to wrap his arms around Arthur’s waist.
Arthur had never been one to fuss over his appearance, but now he seemed to understand what got people all flustered. Arthur sighed as he turned to face himself in the mirror, “I look more like a budget Ron Weasley next to you.”
Alfred put an arm around Arthur’s drooping frame and tugged him close, “well, I think you look hot as hell next to me.” Alfred grinned, his eyebrows darting up and down for good measure, “plus you know I had a crush on Ron Weasley as a kid.”
Arthur rolled his eyes but Alfred only kept on grinning.
“Should I change?” Arthur asked, his brows tugging in mild concern.
“If you want,” Alfred told him softly, “but you know I’ll think you look sexy in whatever you wear. Heck, you could go out in an empty potato sack and I’d still ravish you at the end of the night.”
Arthur turned to look at Alfred, the beginnings of a smile starting to tug at his lips, “a potato sack, now that really is sexy.”
“Only you could make it sexy, though.”
Arthur felt his eyes roll once more, it was an automatic response at this point. He grabbed Alfred’s collar and pulled him down slightly to his own height, “do you have to be so sweet all the time?” He sighed through a fond smile, “It’s quite annoying.”
Alfred grinned, looking rather proud of himself as he did so. He lowered his face towards Arthur’s aiming his lips towards the other man’s while Arthur felt a grin tug at his own.
“Come on,” he said, interrupting the moment as he turned to leave, “we’re going to miss our reservation.”
Alfred moaned hungrily behind him, lusting after their empty kiss, “you’re so cruel.”
Arthur turned back quickly as he reached the door to smile at Alfred, “only for you, dear.”
The suit was Arthur’s first clue that something was up. The second clue was when Alfred took the maître d’ to the side in order to have an incredibly quiet, incredibly quick conversation. Arthur couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but by the looks on their faces, it was something rather serious.
“What was that all about?” Arthur insisted, eyes narrowed as Alfred came to collect him.
“I was just making sure we could sit at the table I’d reserved,” he said quickly. A little too quickly.
Arthur hummed as he slipped an arm through Alfred’s and they followed the waiter to their table. He sat them in a relatively secluded spot to the edge of the restaurant and handed them both menus before leaving them in peace to mull over their options.
“The desserts look nice,” Alfred mused, seemingly thinking out loud, “better save room.”
Arthur looked at his boyfriend over the menu, his eyes narrowing at his words. That was when the third and final clue fell into place, like a missing cog igniting a rusty piece of machinery.
He’s going to propose, Arthur thought, and with pudding no less; the cheesy bastard’s going to put the ring in the cake. Arthur’s reserve strengthened as he reeled himself in from the surprise; he wasn’t going to let Alfred get away with this.
“They do look nice,” Arthur agreed amicably, “the chocolate lava cake especially.”
He glanced at Alfred and saw him fidget in his seat excitedly. So that was the one he had chosen. As he looked at Alfred smiling excitedly, Arthur almost felt bad for what he was going to have to do next. But, the lad would get over it no doubt. Once he saw how romantic Arthur’s proposal would be, he’d realise he was better off that way. Alfred was always doing things for Arthur, all these big romantic gestures all of the time, just this once Arthur wanted to be the one to do this for Alfred, to be the one to make him happy.
But until then, he just had to make him a little disappointed.
To Alfred’s credit, he’d certainly chosen the perfect restaurant for them to get engaged in. The meal was delicious, the atmosphere was indeed romantic, everything seemed perfect. But none of that mattered, Arthur reminded himself. He needed to do this! So that he could be the one to propose!
...To make Alfred happy of course.
“You gonna get that chocolate lava cake for dessert?”
Arthur glanced at Alfred as he smiled, a little too brightly to just be excited about eating dessert. Although he did often have a large grin when it came to ordering cake at restaurants. But Arthur knew Alfred’s cake smile, and this was definitely something a lot more intense.
Arthur looked at Alfred, he felt almost guilty, and for a second he faltered. He took a deep breath, he could do this, he’d been mentally preparing all evening.
“Oh, I’m quite full actually, I think I’ll skip dessert. But, you go ahead and have some, love.”
Alfred’s smile immediately faltered and to say it crushed Arthur was an understatement. He almost skipped dessert and agreed to marry the man there and then just get that frown of his face.
But then Alfred looked up and smiled at him, seemingly unfazed, “order one anyway! Whatever you don’t eat we’ll take home!”
“Oh,” Arthur should’ve realised how persistent the man would be, “Alfred, I’m fine. Really.”
He pursed his lips, if he wanted to win, he was going to have to change tactics. He raised a hand to his forehead and frowned dramatically, “In fact, suddenly I feel quite ill. Could we...go home?”
Arthur looked up as he felt Alfred’s hand wrap around his own protectively. He met Alfred's eyes which were full to the brim with unadulterated concern. A look that sent him into a fresh spiral of guilt, “of course, darlin’,” Alfred spoke softly as he went around the table to drape his jacket over Arthur’s shoulders, “I’ll pay, you go wait in the car. There’s just something I need to talk to the waiter about.”
~~~
“I feel awful, Francis,” Arthur grumbled into his glass of wine, “you should have seen how excited he looked. It killed me to lie to him like that."
"So why did you?" Francis countered with a raised brow and a sip of wine.
"He's always the one making the big romantic gestures. Taking me out to dinner, buying me flowers. Spontaneous date nights and all that. So, I want to return the favour. Just this once I want to be the one to make him happy...besides, I couldn't let him propose to me through a cake. You of all people should know that. If I had you'd never let me live down the cliché."
"I think it's rather amoureux," Francis smiled.
"You think everything is amoureux," Arthur tutted.
"A lot of things are."
Arthur rolled his eyes, "well if he wants cheesy, cliché romance, then I'll give him cheesy, cliché romance."
~~~
It was a Friday night and, like most nights, Alfred was in the kitchen preparing their dinner. Arthur came up beside him as he leant over a chopping board.
"Hey," Alfred smiled, a large arm wrapping his boyfriend's slender shoulders.
Arthur smiled up at him as he leaned into Alfred's chest, "you're free tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, I saw an advert for the science museum on my way home the other day. Apparently they've added a new section to the planetarium exhibition."
Alfred gasped, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of a child as he turned to look at Arthur, "the planetarium! That's my favourite part!"
"I know," Arthur chuckled, "that's why I thought we could go tomorrow."
Alfred gasped again, as if he had no idea the conversation was going that way anyway. He completely forgot about the vegetables he was supposed to be chopping up and instead threw his arms around Arthur's neck and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, "I love you so much, Artie!"
Arthur chuckled fondly as he stared up at the big lug, "I love you too, sweetheart."
Arthur looked down at the array of chopped vegetables and smiled, "what are you making?"
Alfred took that as his cue to release Arthur from his grasp. He turned back to the counter and smiled over his shoulder, "ratatouille! Francis gave me the recipe."
"Oh?" Arthur hummed as he leaned back against the kitchen island to watch Alfred work, "you did check he didn't list poison as one of the ingredients?"
A chuckle rumbled through Alfred's chest while he continued chopping.
"I'm so excited, Artie! I haven't been to the planetarium in years," he exclaimed, still astutely concentrated on his chopping, "first we'll go see the dinosaur exhibit because that's always awesome. Then we'll go see the section on DNA. We'll save the planetarium for last because that's the best part…"
Arthur was lost in Alfred's words as he chirped on about the order in which they'd visit each exhibit. He loved hearing Alfred talk about science. As much as all of the other things he cared deeply about. It was always so winsome to see his eyes light up in such a childlike fashion. To see him truly happy like that, made Arthur feel all the same.
~~~
All in all, it was a great day at the science museum. Arthur thoroughly enjoyed listening to Alfred explain how everything worked better than the information on the exhibits themselves. Not that he understood most of it.
More than anything, he just found it so captivating to watch Alfred talk with such passion. Plus, it was totally hot when Alfred spoke science.
They waited outside of the planetarium for the last show of the day. Alfred was holding Arthur's hand and he was buzzing excitedly like a small child. If he were anymore cruel, Arthur might've told him to calm down but he wanted Alfred to enjoy this, to be happy. Everything needed to be perfect for him.
Just as Arthur had wanted, Alfred had spent the day in total bliss. He was in his element at the science museum, and he was always content with Arthur by his side. It seemed like nothing could bring his mood down.
That was until Arthur excused himself from the line, for a reason he didn't specify. Alfred didn't think much of it until he turned around and saw Arthur discussing something with one of the museum staff. An already bizarre occurrence considering Arthur didn't know anyone who worked here.
Maybe he was complaining? No, Arthur was far too British for that. And besides what would he have to complain about? The day had been perfect. So what was he doing? Was he planning something, or organising something?
And then it hit him. Arthur had already planned something, had been planning something for god knows how long now.
Oh he was good. He was really good. But not as good as Alfred. He had the man sussed. He knew exactly what that bastard was planning. And he wasn't going to let him get away with it.
He had to hand it to Arthur though, in any other circumstances this might've been his perfect day. And by extension, the perfect opportunity to propose. He always thought he'd been lucky to find someone who knew him so well, but he might not have chosen such a partner if he'd known it would make it this hard to get engaged.
Arthur came back over with a wicked smile just as the queue began filing into the planetarium.
"What were you doing over there?"
"Oh nothing," Arthur said, waving away Alfred's query with a flick of the wrist, "I just had a question, that's all."
"What about?" Alfred pressed, eyes still narrowed.
"Oh you know...f-fossils."
"You were asking the planetarium attendant about fossils?"
"Yes. He happened to be incredibly knowledgeable on the subject."
Alfred hummed as he crossed his arms, determined to catch Arthur out, "why didn't you ask me?"
"Well I felt I'd bothered you enough today. Thought I'd give you a break from my endless scrutiny."
Alfred hummed, unappeased. Thankful for Arthur's terrible skills as an actor which only confirmed his suspicions: Arthur was totally going to propose in the planetarium!
Alfred looked about frantically as they stepped ever closer to the entrance. He needed to get out of there and quickly. But how? He couldn't exactly run away again. It had worked last time but it wasn't fair to abandon Arthur like that again. And in the middle of a museum no less.
Oh no, they were stepping inside, the doors were closing behind them. Shit.
How was he going to get out of this now? He just had to leave before the proposal came on screen so that he didn't see it. He couldn't leave right away, Arthur might come looking for him. He had to leave just before the proposal. Which would be easy! ...If Alfred knew when Arthur was going to propose.
He pursed his lips as the pair found their seats, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. Think Alfred, think.
"Are you excited to see the new section on supernovas? I hear they got Niel Degrasse Tyson to do the voiceover."
Alfred gasped as he looked at Arthur. Of course! The new section on supernovas! Arthur knew how much Alfred loved black holes. And if he knew Alfred at all, he would totally make the supernova explode into an array of stars that spelled out 'Alfred, will you marry me?'
That sounded so awesome…
Too bad Alfred wasn't going to see it!
"Yeah!" Alfred almost yelled. The idiotic grin on his face exposing the joy he felt for Arthur having given away his own plan.
Alfred threw an arm around Arthur's shoulders and tugged him into a hug.
"I love you, Artie."
Alfred wasn't sure if he was saying it because he was thankful that Arthur had revealed the secret to his proposal, or because Alfred was astounded by the thoughtfulness of its intent. Or whether it was a mixture of both. Regardless, Alfred was just happy that he was going to marry Arthur.
He almost felt bad about having to foil Arthur's plans again.
I love you, Artie, he thought, but I'm going to be the one to win this.
"Oh," Arthur gasped quietly, his features softening into a surprised smile, "I love you too."
As the lights dimmed and the galaxy flew into view on the ceiling above them, Arthur settled comfortably under Alfred's arm, leaning against his broad chest like a pillow.
Alfred settled down as he began to watch the show unfold in the sky, he could relax now that he knew Arthur's plan.
It wasn't until he heard Niel Degrasse Tyson's soothing voice begin to explain what happens when a red supergiant turns into a supernova that his heart rate began to pick up again.
Now was the moment. Alfred had to get out of there before the supernova turned into a blackhole otherwise it would be too late.
"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."
Arthur looked at the man in horror, "what? Right now!?"
"Yeah," Alfred shrugged, his high school drama classes finally coming in handy as he attempted to feign nonchalance, "what's the big deal?"
"N-nothing," Arthur answered a little too quickly. He pursed his lips, clearly distressed, and while it wasn't pleasant for Alfred to watch the love of his life suffer so, he did find it oddly satisfying.
"It's just," Arthur continued, "the supernovas and black holes are coming up. That's your favourite part. You don't want to miss it, do you?"
"I'm just going to pee," Alfred assured him, "I'll be like five minutes."
Arthur pursed his lips and frowned at his boyfriend. Nervously, he glanced at his watch. If Alfred was in fact only five minutes and no more then he would be back in time for the proposal. If he wasn't, then Arthur would just murder him.
"Fine," he sighed, "just hurry back, okay?"
"Roger!" Alfred grinned as he got up to leave.
Arthur could only sigh in his wake, nervously stealing glances at his watch every 10 seconds instead of listening to that scientist from The Big Bang Theory that Alfred had told him the name of several times but he still couldn't remember explain what happens when stars explode. It was sexier when Alfred did it anyway.
4 minutes passed. No sign of Alfred. He was either taking the longest piss of his life or he had died on the toilet. Arthur hoped that for the lad’s sake, it was the latter.
It was at the halfway point between 4 and 5 minutes that Arthur realised he had bitten his fingernails into blunt stubs and that if he kept on chewing nervously like this, he was going to draw blood.
He groaned as he tried to ignore the churning in his stomach and as the 5th minute ticked away on his watch, he tried to pretend he wasn’t there. A method that he usually found to work quite well was to sink into his chair and slouch away the outside world.
When the whole ordeal was finally over, romantic music and spotlights galore, he stormed out of there quicker than a rabbit running from a combine harvester. He was sure that his face was red from embarrassment and that there was steam gushing from every point in his body from which steam was known to gush. He stood squarely in front of the toilets just in time to see Alfred walking out, just as carefree and idiotic as the day they'd met.
He spotted Artie and smiled, "sorry 'bout that, Artie. Shouldn't've had that last hotdog, those bastards went straight through me."
Arthur stared at the man with a sour expression, "lovely."
Alfred walked up to him, his expression purposely contradicting Arthur's, "you look a bit red. You feeling okay, babe?"
If it was possible, Arthur's expression sank down even further into unamusement, "I'm fine," he managed through gritted teeth.
"That's good," Alfred sighed, annoyingly chipper as he wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulders. The pair made their way towards the exit walking in unison.
"Thanks for today," Alfred started, suddenly more genuine, "I had a great time. It was...really thoughtful of you to bring us here."
Even after more than a decade of exposure to Alfred's affection, Arthur was still caught off guard at random bouts of sincerity.
"I-it's fine," Arthur said, his face scrunching into something of a smile, "just don't have so many hotdogs next time."
~~~
“Drats! I’ve been foiled again!” Arthur cussed as he paced across the small space in Francis’ living room that had now been adopted as his whining spot, “this is getting out of hand, Francis. He keeps seeing right through my plans.”
Francis hummed thoughtfully as he leaned back on his sofa and watched Arthur’s nervous pacing through his wine glass, “I have to admit, that boy is a lot smarter than I’ve given him credit for.”
“I know, it’s bloody awful,” Arthur sighed as he finally finished pacing and let himself fall onto the seat next to Francis, “at this rate, I’ll never be able to propose.”
“You better do it soon,” Francis warned him with a sly smirk, “remember our little deal, pépite. If neither of us are married by the time we’re 40 then it will be the two of us at the altar.”
Arthur’s frown turned sour, “maybe I should just let him propose after all.”
“Rude.”
***
“Ha! I outsmarted him again!” Alfred grinned triumphantly, pumping a fist into the air for good measure.
“You truly are the greatest mind of our generation,” Matt told his cousin flatly.
“I know right!” Alfred smiled, “he’s no match for me! … Although, he keeps seeing through my plans as well…”
“Oh?” Matt questioned with a feigned interest, perfected over the course of his life with Alfred, one that his cousin had always been too vacuous to notice.
“I’m gonna have to be sneaky about this next one,” Alfred mused, fingers stroking his chin in thought, “something he wouldn’t see coming. At least not from me...you have any ideas?”
“Well-”
“That’s it!” Alfred jumped out of his chair, “I’ve got it! Thanks, Matt! You’re always great to talk to.”
“Happy to help,” he mumbled to himself as Alfred slipped out the door in a hurry. No doubt hurrying off to put the pieces into place for his next excellent scheme to propose to Arthur.
~~~
Alfred hummed along to whatever mellow Sunday morning song was playing on the radio, his hips swayed to the tune and his feet danced about excitedly. He almost forgot about the pancake on the stove in front of him which was about five shades away from being able to compete with Arthur’s cooking.
“Oops,” he smiled to himself as he tossed the blackened pancake onto a plate. That one could be Alfred’s.
He continued to smile as he poured more batter into the pan, letting his mind wander off to thoughts of getting engaged to Arthur. It was totally going to happen this morning! Alfred had a plan and everything, and there was no way that it could go wrong. He’d gotten in touch with the crossword editor from Arthur’s favourite newspaper and arranged for the words ‘Will you marry me, Arthur Kirkland?’ to be spelled out amongst the answers. Alfred was going to bring the newspaper up to him on a tray, along with an awesome pancake breakfast while he was still in bed. It was a fool proof idea, and one that Alfred was rather proud of. With a childish grin, he flipped the pancake into the air and cheered as it landed safely back in the pan. He was getting rather good at that, if you ignored the one stuck to the ceiling as well as the three mangled lumps of batter on the floor.
With the tray arranged neatly, flower on one end, cup of imported Earl Grey on the other while the pancakes sat in the middle covered in Arthur’s favourite toppings; lemon and sugar - a combination that Alfred never understood, personally - Alfred made his way upstairs. He pushed their bedroom door open slowly and saw that Arthur was still asleep, his hair tousled in charming curls from a night of restless sleeping. Alfred had left the curtains closed when he’d gotten up, and the sun was just beginning to shine through them, illuminating Arthur’s dozing figure in a faded yellow glow that made him look so serene, it was hard for Alfred to have to wake him.
“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he spoke softly.
Arthur started to stir. Releasing a tired groan, he turned over, pulling the duvet as he went.
Alfred smiled as he set the tray on their bedside table and sat down on the bed, “come on, sleepy head.”
Arthur groaned again but this time added the whispered words, “go away. I’m asleep.”
“I can see that,” Alfred chuckled, unable to stop himself from brushing a stray curl from Arthur’s face.
Arthur slowly opened an eye and looked at Alfred suspiciously, “why are you so chipper?”
“Am I?” Alfred said innocently, “maybe the super awesome breakfast in bed that your super awesome boyfriend made for you has something to do with it.”
Arthur turned over and looked at Alfred, suspiciously more awake than he was a few seconds ago, “what’s this about breakfast in bed?”
Alfred’s grin could’ve lit an entire room, “thought that might get your attention,” he chuckled as he reached for the tray, “here.”
Arthur sat up and eyed the breakfast spread, feeling pleasantly overwhelmed by Alfred’s kindness, as he placed the tray on Arthur’s lap.
“You didn’t have to do this, love…” Arthur sighed, mainly out of courtesy and not at all because he really meant it.
“I know,” Alfred smiled, “I just thought you deserved a treat since you’ve been so busy with work lately.”
“Well, aren’t you thoughtful,” Arthur hummed, leaning over to give Alfred a well earned smooch.
Buzzing excitedly, Alfred watched Arthur tuck into the breakfast as he sat back with a cup of coffee that he’d made for himself. He would lean over every so often to bite forkfuls of pancakes that Arthur offered him. He could hardly contain his excitement when Arthur finished the them, neatly sliding the knife and fork together like the gentleman he liked to pretend he was before setting the tray on the bedside table. He looked over to Alfred and smiled before leaning across the bed to give his boyfriend a soft kiss that Alfred couldn’t help but deepen.
When Arthur finally pulled away, he settled onto Alfred’s shoulder and hummed softly, “that was lovely, thank you.”
“It was nothing,” Alfred smiled, his chest crooning at the sight of Arthur curling up against him like a tired kitten. On any other day he would’ve just lied back and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend as they fell back to sleep. But, this wasn’t any other day and Alfred had a proposal to get done.
“I dunno if you noticed...but I brought you the newspaper. I know you like the crossword.”
Arthur hummed thoughtfully as he sat up again, “oh yes, I forgot about that. Thank you.”
“No problemo,” Alfred smirked as he sank back into his pillow and took a sip of coffee, laughing maniacally inside his head.
Arthur grabbed the newspaper from the bedside table and opened it to the crossword page, “you don’t happen to have a pen, do you, love?” he asked as he searched his bedside table for one.
“Here,” Alfred smiled as he pulled one out from behind his ear and held it out for Arthur.
“Oh,” Arthur gasped in pleasant surprise, “thank you.”
Alfred always enjoyed watching Arthur do his crossword puzzles. He always looked so cute, the way he furrowed his bushy brows in concentration and the way he pushed the end of the pen into his lips as he thought about the answer. However, Alfred didn’t really get a chance to appreciate those little quirks this time because he was too preoccupied with excitement for Arthur finishing the crossword, or at least getting further enough through it to figure out that Alfred was proposing.
Unsurprisingly, it took Arthur a scarily short amount of time to finish the thing and he folded it up with a smile and placed it onto the bedside table before handing Alfred his pen back. The lack of fireworks left Alfred a little anxious and he looked at Arthur nervously as he took his pen back.
“Did you...finish the crossword?” Alfred asked, in the most un-interrogative voice he could manage with such a fast heartbeat.
“Yes, why? Do you want to read the sports section?”
“Ah, sure...um,” Alfred looked at Arthur, suddenly a lot more concerned than he was before. Why wasn’t Arthur screaming, or jumping up and down as he yelled the word ‘yes’ over and over again? With a frown, Alfred took the newspaper from Arthur, watching him carefully as he spoke, “how was the crossword this week?”
And that was when Alfred thought he saw a little curl at the side of Arthur’s mouth. An evil twinge to an otherwise innocent expression. Arthur shrugged, “It was interesting. The theme this week was love...I presume since someone was proposing through it. What a lovely idea. ‘Will you marry me, Martha Drikland?’ Isn’t that sweet?”
“What?!” Alfred ripped through the newspaper frantically as he searched for the crossword.
Seemingly unperturbed by Alfred’s panic, Arthur got out of the bed and stretched, “I have no idea who this Martha Dirkland is, but I’m happy for her. I wish her and her spouse a successful marriage.”
Arthur watched with calculated reticence as Alfred stared at the crossword in shock.
“They printed it wrong…” he muttered.
“What was that, sweetheart?”
“Nothing!” Alfred looked up quickly to see Arthur stare at him with a sickly sweet smile.
He hummed, “well, I’m going in the shower then. Thanks for the pancakes, love.”
Alfred could only stare after him with an open mouth as he strutted off towards their bathroom with the callous air of an assassin leaving the scene of a brutal murder.
~~~
“That was close, Francis,” Arthur shook his head in disbelief, “I really didn’t see that coming. If there hadn’t been a typo in that crossword puzzle, I would’ve been toast.”
“He made you breakfast in bed with no occasion and you weren’t even a little suspicious?”
“The bastard is incredibly thoughtful!” Arthur defended, “and there wasn’t no occasion. I’d been stressed at work.”
“Oh, that bastard is thoughtful.”
“Regardless, I won’t let him get away with this,” Arthur seethed, “I’ll corner him and pull out the ring when he least expects it so that he has to respond. There’s no running away from me this time.”
~~~
“I think I’m gonna make this the last one.”
Matt raised an eyebrow at his cousin, his eyes darting away from their game of Mariokart on the television screen to his sombre sounding cousin for only a second, “make this the last what?”
“The last time I propose.”
Matthew sighed exasperatedly as his car fell off the side of the road and he looked at Alfred, opting to pause the game rather than face falling to 12th place.
“To Arthur?”
“No, to aunt Bessy. Yes, to Arthur.”
Matthew grumbled through pursed lips as he rolled his eyes as his cousin, “why, now, are you giving up all of a sudden. I thought this was like your dream to propose to him, or whatever.”
“Well,” Alfred sighed thoughtfully, “I guess my dream is just to make him happy, and if that means letting him propose to me then so be it.”
“Wow,” Matthew said quietly, “I think that’s the most selfless thing you’ve ever said.”
Alfred smiled proudly, “I’m gonna try one more time, though. And if it doesn’t work this time, I’ll just take that as the universe’s way of telling me I should just let him propose.”
“Well, I’ll be.”
***
It took almost all of Alfred’s persuasive expertise to get Arthur to agree to go out to a fancy restaurant that night. It had been just over a month since his last proposal attempt and he figured that since there hadn’t been any surprise attacks from Arthur that maybe this was finally his chance.
Of course, he had no way of knowing that the reason Arthur was so opposed to going out that night was exactly the same. After a month of peace, he thought that maybe the war was finally over or, at the very least, they’d reached a stalemate. Arthur was going to use this opportunity to drive Alfred into a corner, of which there was no other exit than the one that led to their engagement. Arthur’s plans were very tight: when they were in bed that night, and he was reading a book and Alfred was scrolling on his phone, he’d pull out the ring, catching Alfred off guard and leaving him no opportunity to run away.
Which was why he was so opposed to the idea of going out to eat that night. He didn’t want to take any chances with anything that could ruin his plans. But after a few minutes of Alfred’s smooth talking, Arthur gave in. He blamed Alfred’s puppy dog eyes, they were always so hard to refuse.
“You’re gonna love this place,” Alfred assured him on the drive there.
Arthur in all his petty glory, for having been dragged out there, was ready to disagree with him, but when they arrived and the waiter showed them to their table, his stubborn resolve was already starting to melt.
“Oh my goodness, Alfred,” Arthur sighed as he took in the sight in front of him, “oh my goodness…”
The waiter had shown them to the terrace at the back of the restaurant. It was romantic and secluded, so secluded in fact that there was only one table. Not that it would’ve been a good idea to try and squeeze another one into the small space anyway.
Arthur took a step forward as the waiter backed out of the frosted glass doors, mesmerised by the view. It was late evening and the sun had almost set, leaving a soft blue glow over everything that wasn’t illuminated by the yellow porch lights. Arthur’s feet took him to the edge of the balcony, his eyes glued on the glittering river below as he clung to the ivy encrusted fencing.
He was quite literally breath taken at the site. The moon dancing across the surface of the lake, the boats bobbing back and forth in couplets as sounds of gushing water and peaceful wildlife hummed softly in the background. There were signs of life all around them and yet it still felt like they were the only ones around for miles.
“Alfred…”
A hand rested on Arthur's shoulder, it was Alfred’s. Warm and sturdy, just like him.
“Thought you might like this place,” he grinned.
His smile took Arthur’s breath away. It always did. Alfred just had that kind of smile that drew you in like a beam of light. And Arthur wanted very much to let himself get drawn in. By the smile, the scenery, the romantic atmosphere of a moonlit night. But it all pointed to one thing, and Arthur couldn't let that happen.
“We have to leave!”
“What? Why?”
Arthur looked at Alfred frantically, before clutching his head in a dramatic fashion “I feel faint. It’s so hot. My head,” he began to stammer, sounding off the first excuses that came to his head.
Alfred looked at him with concern before placing one hand around his shoulder protectively and the other on his forehead, “you don’t feel like you have a fever. Maybe we should just sit down and you can have some water.”
“No!” Arthur blurted, “I mean…” he looked up at his boyfriend nervously before pulling out the big guns, “I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
Luckily for Arthur, Alfred had an easily exploitable weak spot, namely his hero complex. He did feel a tad guilty for exploiting it in such an evil way but well...needs must, you know.
“What? Really?” Alfred looked at Arthur with such concern that he found it hard not to feel incredibly guilty. And a little flattered, “Here,” Alfred breathed as he hoisted his blazer around Arthur’s shoulders, “I’ll take you home, okay?”
Arthur nodded, feeling a little cheeky as he muttered, “thank you.”
The car ride home did nothing to relieve his guilt. He thought that Alfred would just forget about his little scene and the pair could get on with planning their next proposal schemes but Alfred just kept fretting over him. The doting bastard.
“You okay? Is it too hot? Too cold? Need to stop for some medicine? Something to drink?”
There were only so many times a man could say, “no, no I'm fine,” before going absolutely insane with guilt.
Arthur’s cool breath hit the window in a swirl of remorse. He watched the cars dash by, their lights flickering brightly enough to cause an actual headache. But he would rather have dealt with that than having to turn and face Alfred and his kind eyes and compassionate smile. Guilt pooled in his stomach, weighing him down like a bowling ball. Maybe he’d made a mistake. More accurately, perhaps he’d made several appalling lapses in judgment over the past few months.
He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he continued to stare out of the car window, tugging at the large jacket that was still draped around his shoulders. Arthur’s brows tugged together as he noticed where they were. High up on the cliffside, overlooking a small beach. This wasn’t the way home, in fact they were nowhere near their home; Alfred had taken a serious detour. Something unknown ignited within Arthur’s chest, curiosity? Hope? Fear?
“Why are we going this way?” he asked as he turned towards Alfred.
Alfred pursed his lips sheepishly, “Oh, I just...I was gonna stop off here after dinner, thought we could watch the sunset from up on the cliff.”
Arthur felt a shattered gasp pull from his chest as everything came crashing down inside his head. Alfred wasn’t going to propose at the restaurant, he was going to propose up there on the very same bench they’d sat on as teenagers. Where Alfred had asked him on their first date.
“I guess we should probably get you home, though,” Alfred smiled. It was a soft and caring smile but Arthur could see the disappointment it was hiding.
“I…” Arthur’s words got lost in the sea of fatigue and shame that plagued his mind. A part of him wanted to tell Alfred to turn around, to drive them to the bench on the hill, and to watch the sunset together. But he didn’t. Something was nipping at him. Perhaps overthinking had ruined his perception once again, it had a habit of doing that, and instead of telling Alfred what he wanted to, he went with the safe option, “I suppose we should.”
The rest of the car ride was agonisingly quiet. Arthur bit his lip, ignoring the lump of remorse that twisted his gut as he tried to think of ways in which he could make it up to Alfred in the morning and prayed that his next proposal attempt would come soon so that he could tell the bloody lad that yes he would bloody marry him and that he was bloody sorry for all the bloody trouble he caused.
That was right, Arthur sighed to himself, no more proposal attempts. He would let Alfred do it. He sighed as the car pulled up beside their house, scowling at himself with scorn. He’d been telling himself that proposing to Alfred would make him happy, but perhaps he’d gotten lost in his own determination to be the one to propose. And what would actually have made Alfred happy all along was to propose to Arthur.
He startled as he saw Alfred looming beside his window, he’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed him get out of the car. He smiled up at Alfred sheepishly as he opened the door for Arthur and he stepped out, muttering a quiet, “thank you.”
Alfred’s jacket got caught on his seatbelt and he tugged at it lightly, freeing himself and stepping away before closing the door behind him.
“You dropped something,” Alfred told him.
Beside him, Alfred kneeled down to pick whatever it was off the ground and when he didn’t get back up, Arthur turned around to see what was holding his attention.
“Oh,” Arthur breathed as he looked down to see Alfred propped up on one knee, little black box open to display a delicately silver ring glaring up at Arthur.
The sound of Arthur’s heartbeat as it crept up his throat was the only thing louder than the silence that hung in the air around them. It wasn't awkward silence, as perhaps some might’ve expected. No, it was more like the type of silence that rang out amongst a crowd of spectators at the moment in a sports game right before a point was about to be scored and you held your breath because this was about to be either the best or the worst day of your life.
Arthur’s head started to shake minutely, his lips pressed together as they slowly started to form some kind of wistful smile, his eyes locked to Alfred’s.
“What the hell are we doing?” he whispered.
“Artie…” the word pulled from Alfred’s chest, his hushed tone dripping in apprehension as he deliberated inside his head.
“Come here you idiot,” was all Arthur had to say to dispel any worry from Alfred’s mind. He leaned down and grabbed the man by the sides of his face and pulled him into a well needed kiss. Suddenly, it was as if all the negative emotions that Arthur had felt only moments ago crumbled away at Alfred’s touch, which certainly wasn’t a rare occurrence.
Arthur didn’t know how long it had been by the time Alfred pulled away, but he had tears in his eyes and he couldn’t hold back a nervous chuckle that came out so shaky and high pitched that it sounded more like a giggle. But he didn’t care about that, and he didn’t know why he was thinking about it when Alfred was right there in front of him, smiling at him as if he were the only man in the universe. Like he always did.
Arthur smiled back, shaking his head as he wiped at the tears in his eyes, “we’re hopeless. Utterly hopeless.”
“Yeah we are,” Alfred agreed through a precarious bout of laughter before pulling the smaller man in for another kiss. This one shorter, but no less meaningful. He held Arthur’s face in his hands as he continued to smile, a sturdy gesture.
“Artie, I love you,” he sighed, “I love you so freaking much. And, I’m sorry. I should’ve realised months ago; it doesn’t matter who proposes, I just know that I want to marry the heck outta you.”
“You’re unbelievably cheesy,” Alfred muttered as he tried to scowl away his tears. He sighed as he looked at Alfred, a mournful tug at his lips, “I’m sorry, too. I let my own selfish need to propose get in the way of what would truly make you happy.”
Alfred used his thumb to glide away a falling tear on Arthur’s cheek, “it’s okay. I know I can be a little headstrong, or a lot headstrong, and I probably convinced myself that the reason I wanted to propose so bad was a lot more noble than it actually was.”
Arthur shook his head, for the both of them. He couldn’t stop smiling now either as he looked at his boyfriend. Well, fiancé.
“If it was this hard just to get engaged, I dread to think how troublesome the wedding planning will be,” Arthur sighed lightly.
“I'm worth it though, right?” Alfred asked, his grin unbearable.
“Most definitely not,” Arthur lied.
Alfred only laughed before leaning forward to kiss Arthur once more, slowly, savouring every second.
Arthur sniffed as they pulled away and he glanced down at the box still in Alfred’s hand, “give me that ring, then,” he smiled and Alfred gripped the box, opening it and delicately placing the ring on Arthur’s finger.
“Ha,” Alfred laughed nervously, his eyes darting back up to Arthur’s, “we’re engaged.”
“Yes, we are,” Arthur agreed, his smile uncontainable.
“We’re gonna get married!”
“Yes,” Arthur smiled up at Alfred.
A boisterous laugh rumbled through Alfred’s chest, and before he knew what was going on, Arthur was in his arms and he was being carried towards their front door.
His smile quickly melted into a look of horror, “o-oi! What on Earth are you doing, idiot?”
Alfred grinned down at his fiancé, “I’m carrying you bridal style!”
Arthur released a huff of exasperation, his natural defence whenever he enjoyed one of Alfred’s silly romantic gestures a little too much for his own good, “put me down, you utter buffoon.*”
*Translation: please never put me down, you buffoon. Unless it’s onto our bed.
“No way! I’m practicing for our wedding night. Arthur Jones.”
That caught Arthur’s attention, his sharp eyes darting up to Alfred’s, “what? I’m not taking your last name.”
“But Alfred Kirkland just doesn’t have the same ring to it, y’know.”
Arthur pursed his lips, “what about Alfred Kirkland-Jones?”
“Hyphenation. I like your style. But why do you get to come first?” Alfred whined through a fond smile.
Arthur smiled back up at his fiancé, so fervid to spend a lifetime quarrelling with the man who was holding him in his arms. He chuckled slightly, “Alfred Jones-Kirkland just doesn't have the same ring to it.”