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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years ago

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The Night before Christmas

@lycheesodas, as promised, here is my take on your blorbos...

-> Link to the art (go like and reblog please)-> Also, commissions are open, so please consider commissioning this amazing artist!

I hope you'll like this <3

Words: 2k

Characters: Beleg x Mablung (Modern!AU)

Warnings: None, just fluff

Mablung rolled his shoulders uncomfortably as he tightened the last knot of the gold ribbon around the deceivingly small box; the sweater Beleg had gotten him was slightly scratchy and altogether too warm, making him sweat even more as he stood fidgeting by the kitchen counter, eyeing his present critically.

He did not doubt for a single second that his boyfriend would tear the paper off unceremoniously anyway, but Mablung had an orderly mind and – when it came to something so monumentally important – he didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

With a satisfied nod, he picked the discreet parcel up at the very moment a loud bang in the hallway informed him of the arrival of his beloved in the flat. Mablung had been relieved when Beleg had decided to spend the afternoon prior to their little intimate celebration at his unofficial second job, babysitting Túrin the Terror, for it had given Mablung the time to tidy up their flat and wrap his gift with the slow, meticulous care he liked to apply to things that mattered to him.

A sharp tug at the back of his sweatshirt reminded him belatedly of just how fast and noiselessly Beleg could move when he had a mind to; Mablung perforce spun around, smoothly hiding the box behind his broad back. He was taller than Beleg and so he almost collided with the hand his beaming boyfriend was holding over them; as he let his eyes drift upwards, he glimpsed the mistletoe Beleg was brandishing as if it was a rare treasure.

“You’ll have to kiss me,” the silver-haired imp crooned, “it’s the law.”

“It is a tradition,” Mablung replied sternly, “which is quite different from an actual decree.”

They had been dating for too long for Beleg to miss the playful sparkle in his eyes though and so he was not surprised to see that rosy, overactive mouth purse in expectation of the demanded kiss.

“Come on,” Beleg whined, letting his dense lashes flutter seductively as he stepped even closer to his partner. “You cannot wear those work pants at home and expect me to forego your sweet kisses. You evil siren!”

Uttering a choked chuckle, Mablung allowed himself to tear his gaze from the puny bough of waxy greenery; he was never entirely sure where Beleg got those ideas from, but he couldn’t deny that it filled his chest with welcome warmth whenever his boyfriend accused him of looking especially good on purpose.

In his own humble opinion, Mablung merely looked like himself and the fact that this was enough to make Beleg go cross-eyed with admiration at times was one of the countless reasons he held on to a little box so tightly that the edges cut into his fingers now.

As he waited for Mablung to finish his thought, a nervous expression flitted over Beleg’s face as his eyes went to the old cabinet sitting in the corner of the room. “It’s for good luck,” he explained softly, “and I need all the luck I can get tonight!”

Just as Mablung was finally about to give in to Beleg’s irresistible pleas though, he felt a nimble, swift hand shoot around his body.

“What do we have here?”

“No,” Mablung cried out, “it’s not yet gift-giving time! You really need to work on your patience! We had agreed on midnight, and I’d hold you to that!”

“Spoilsport!” Beleg cried out dramatically, thankful for the distraction; unfortunately, he was only too acutely aware of Mablung’s iron will when it came to these things; a covenant had been arranged and Mablung would not budge unless he absolutely had to. “Aren’t you at all curious about what I’ve gotten you?”

“Trickery?” Mablung asked with an amused smirk as all but saw the joyous energy radiate from Beleg in shivering waves of excited impatience; evidently, he was himself very much looking forward to seeing Mablung open the gift he had gotten for him. “I cannot wait to find out, my sweet love.”

“Evidently, you can,” Beleg muttered but, upon seeing the nervous glint in Mablung’s eyes, he guffawed loudly and pushed himself up on his toes to capture the twitching mouth in a warm kiss. “Good to be home, I’ve missed you.”

Mablung’s heart did a quick somersault; no matter how often Beleg spoke such spontaneous words of love and devotion as if doing so was the easiest and most natural thing in the world, his much more reserved boyfriend never was quite used to the rush of happiness and helpless affection surging through him.

He should have been warier of the entrapment of Beleg’s charm though for, when that wily seducer made another dash for the parcel, Mablung only managed to salvage his jealously guarded surprise by throwing his arm up and holding it out of Beleg’s reach.

“You’re being puerile,” he chided nervously; he had spent so much time planning the minutiae of the scene that his thoughts had petrified around that crystalline moment of bliss, and he found that he was terrified that it would be ruined by unpredicted chaos or inadvertent mischief.

Complaining under his breath, Beleg tugged and prodded until they fell onto the thankfully nearby couch in a heap of limbs and a cloud of pealing laughter.

“You love me though,” Beleg grinned up at him, almost going cross-eyed with trying to never let the package out of his sight.

“That I do!” A slew of passionate, loving kisses followed which did nothing to take Beleg’s sharp mind off the mystery at hand; as much as he enjoyed lazing around in Mablung’s arms, he could neither deny nor shake the quiet hum of excitement that little box had set off in his breast.

“It’s almost midnight, Mablung, my sweet, steadfast, serene love. Take pity on my poor, impatient heart and let me see!”

Shaking his head, Mablung set his precious gift on top of an oaken armoire and returned to the kitchen to check on the food he had set into the oven to warm up; he had paid a hefty fee for their favourite restaurant to deliver a dish Beleg adored.

As he pulled a sinfully expensive bottle of wine – a courtesy from Melian – out of the fridge, Mablung also allowed himself a moment to rest his forehead against the cool wood of the kitchen cupboards to gather his thoughts.

His breath was gusting out in short, shallow puffs that had nothing to do with the brief tussle in the living room; he was both heartened and thrown off balance by the boundless enthusiasm of his boyfriend.

They were doing so well and, as a cautious man, Mablung was afraid to disturb that fragile balance by the monumental decision he had taken. He did not doubt that Beleg loved him, but did he love him enough?

Beleg loved the sun and the open forest in summer, but he could just as happily watch the snowflakes dance on the icy wind for hours; it was nearly impossible to dampen his zeal and hunger for life and all it had to offer.

How could Mablung dare try to bind one such as him to his own tedious, painfully monotonous existence?

He was about to call the whole thing off when Beleg appeared in the doorframe, sporting a crooked grin and cradling an evidently injured arm.

“What?” Mablung cried out in dismay but stopped his advance when Beleg proudly brandished the box.

“Is this what I suspect?” Beleg asked breathlessly, his keen glance sweeping over the flushed face of the one he loved most and the absurd wine he was holding as if to strangle the cold glass bottle.

“Yes,” Mablung sighed and dropped to one knee.

“Don’t! These are your best trousers!” Beleg cried out in shock; his mind was spinning wildly, unable to fully comprehend the picture before him. There he was – serious, sturdy, solitary Mablung – kneeling on the cold kitchen floor in his grotesquely festive sweater and his star-spangled socks, and his eyes were alight with a thousand doubts and hopes that shimmered like a meteorite shower on the rippling background of his deep, undying love.

“Wine,” Beleg croaked and sniffed, “and you’ve gotten my favourite dish as well. Will you be lenient and show me grace? You may keep the box until midnight but, I beg you, let me have the actual gift.”

Mablung frowned slightly, tilting his head back to drink in the vision of Beleg, triumphant and yet solemnly subdued all of a sudden.

“Give me the words that – I have no doubt – you have prepared for this moment. I think I’ll die of asphyxiation if you don’t speak soon!”

Taking the box from Beleg and handing him the bottle of wine so he could apply its soothing, smooth coolness onto the growing bruise creeping up his arm, Mablung took a deep breath.

“I have ever been told that I am rather dull,” he then started, “but you seem to be endlessly amused and delighted by me. For all the flaws I cannot deny and all the faults I am blissfully oblivious of yet, I can vaunt that I am loyal to a fault and…I love you more than you’ll ever even know.

Your world is movement and colour, but mine is made up of duty and honour…and you. Mostly you. You are more than my light, more than mere happiness in a wonderful body, more than a burst of life in the drab grey of the monotony of existence. You are home. Will you marry me?”

He did not undo the ribbon or present Beleg with the discreet band of white gold and frozen starlight yet, he simply sat – motionless – like willing prey or a holy offering sacrificed to some obscure deity.

“Oh, you silly, old fool,” Beleg laughed, launching himself at Mablung and toppling both of them over. “How ceremonial you sound for a question that easy!”

“Mind the wine,” Mablung admonished instinctively as he tightened his arms around Beleg’s body protectively.

“Forget the wine,” Beleg jeered. “Yes, yes, of course. A thousand times yes. If anyone is home – constant, reliable, an ever-fixed star to guide my steps – it is certainly you, my darling.”

Tenderly, he threaded his finger into Mablung’s silken hair to pull him into a soft, melting kiss into which he willed all the bundled, focused, concentrated love he usually dispersed so haphazardly.

Somewhere outside, a church bell chimed.

“Can I see the ring before we eat?”

“Before dinner?” Mablung asked, pretending to be shocked by this set of priorities.

“I’d choose you over food anytime,” Beleg whispered insistently, “over sleep, over comfort, over safety. You know that, right? You are the most important element in my life and, without you, nothing else means anything anymore anyway!”

Relieved beyond what words could express, Mablung handed the small box back and – scrambling to his feet elegantly – half-turned to the oven to retrieve their dinner.

The smile breaking on his face like the light of day at midnight was fast and blinding though as he heard Beleg breathe in sharply before cheering loudly, screaming – at the top of his lungs – that the ring was perfect and that he undoubtedly was the happiest bugger alive.

It was not what Mablung had predicted but – after all these years – he was hardly surprised by that and the way Beleg managed to turn his most assiduous of plans into miracles, full of earnest beauty and astonishing revelations, was another one of the truly endless reasons for this chaotic midnight proposal.

A second later, Beleg jumped onto his back to hug him with his whole body, peppering haphazard kisses onto every patch of bare skin he could reach. “You’ll never believe what I’ve gotten you!” he cried and laughed until Mablung could feel cool tears of endless mirth fall onto his neck.

“I,” he declared in accents of mock arrogance, “can wait until after dinner.”

“Ha!” Beleg exclaimed, tightening his hold. “We shall see about that.”

So, this goes to show that I am a glutton for Modern!AUs...You see I've had a lot of fun with this <3

Thank you for being such an amazing artist and enabler! I love you lots!