Arthur hauled the twentieth bag of red colored mulch out of the truck, grunting as he did so.
"Careful," Merlin advised.
Arthur glared at Merlin as he set the bag down on one of the piles. He wiped sweat off his forehead with his arm, sighing.
"I can help," Merlin told him eagerly. He stood up from the porch steps.
"Sit," Arthur ordered. He went back to the truck, grabbing another bag. With a loud, manly grunt, he picked up the bag.
"Seriously," Merlin stepped over to him. "I can help."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You," he growled, "will sit."
Merlin crossed his arms. "It's a cold, Arthur. A cold. It's not contagious. Stop right now and get inside." Merlin frowned, looking at the large pile of mulch with trepidation.
"It's spring, Merlin," Arthur reminded him, "this is what people do in the spring."
"It'll be spring for a long time!" Merlin protested, "Why are you doing this now?"
Arthur set the bag down on the large pile. "Because, Merlin, if we're going to live in my father's house we might as well take care of it. This house has an orchard. It's spring. The orchard needs mulch to keep weeds from growing. You'll appreciate the orchard when the flowers bloom and the fruit starts to grow, so sit down and let me work."
"At least let me help!" Merlin shouted indignantly.
"You are ill. Go to bed."
Merlin's fists clenched at his sides. "Arthur, I have a cold. I have a small headache and my nose is stuffed. That's it. I'm fine."
"Go to bed. Watch a movie. I'll be in for lunch, maybe if you're feeling up to it you'll make me a sandwhich," Arthur offered. He lifted another bag of mulch out of the car.
"You're going to do the entire orchard by yourself?"
Arthur groaned as he set the next bag down. Then, satisfied, he straightened up and sighed. "Yep," he nodded. Arthur grinned at Merlin. "Impressive, isn't it?"
"Arthur, you already got me in bed. You already convinced me to marry you. You do not need to impress me." Merlin added dully, "We got married yesterday, Arthur. Don't you think we have more important things to do than garden?"
Arthur picked up the next bag, shaking his head as a hint of a smirk crossed his lips. "Can't think of anything," he said.
Merlin glared at him. "Is this because of what I said?" He asked through clenched teeth.
Arthur set the next bag down, wiping the sweat again from his forehead. "What?" He shot Merlin an amused glance as he headed back to the truck for the next bag. "I can't think of anything. Did you say something?"
Merlin sighed. "Fine. Nevermind. Ignore what I said. You are the man in the relationship. You've proven it. Now leave the poor garden alone."
"Merlin," Arthur clicked his tongue, "don't be so desperate. I know you want me to shag you, but you are of a delicate composition and gravely ill-"
"A cold, Arthur! You slept with me all of yesterday and you didn't care!"
"-and as I am your husband, I shall take care of all the hard labor and you will take a nap and then be supremely grateful." Arthur's smirk was almost unbearable.
Merlin grinned. "Fine, you want to do all the yardwork? You do realize that the gutters need to be cleaned out, the rubbish taken out, and once you've placed the mulch you have to rake it." Merlin stepped back toward the house.
"You have to rake this?"
"I think I'll watch that movie," Merlin decided.
...
Arthur was back in the house, covered in dirt and smelling like things better left unspoken, and trying, and failing, to get Merlin to give him a kiss.
Merlin was holding a spatula in one hand, and kneeling down on the top of the steps. "Back!" He shouted. Arthur set one foot on the steps. Merlin lurched forward, weiling the spatula like a sword. "Take a bloody shower!"
Arthur smirked. With one dirt hand he wiped back his now-red-brown hair. "Merlin," Arthur pleaded, his voice sweet even as his eyes were bright with amusement, "I cleaned the gutters, I mulched the orchard, all for you. It's still our honeymoon."
"It was your idea!" Merlin snapped, "Don't you dare! I took a shower this morning!"
Arthur took another step, getting up the stairs, slowly advancing. He pursed his lips. "Come on, Merlin, you know you want to."
Merlin threw the spatula, and it ended up harmlessly hitting Arthur on the chest and falling to the floor.
Arthur smirked. "That it?"
Plan two. Merlin ran.
Arthur was after him in an instant, but due to his head start Merlin was able to run to through the first door he saw. Slamming it shot and locking it by the time the handle started shaking from Arthur trying to open it.
"Merlin," Arthur said, his voice creepy like all levels of creepy things, seriel killers and worms and psychopaths and dirty somehow-not-yet-exhausted husbands who decide to bully their way into a kiss.
"Absolutely not!" Merlin shouted against the door. He was in some empty room; he and Arthur hadn't yet figured out a purpose for every single room in the mansion Uther had given to them. The only enterance was the door, so Merlin grinned. "Sorry, Arthur."
"Open the door."
"Take a shower. I will kiss you if you take a shower. Not while you're covered in... all of that." Merlin sat down, crossing his legs.
There was a silence, then Arthur pleaded, "I'll take a shower after."
"No, you won't!" Merlin rolled his eyes. "You were probably getting off that whole time, thinking of me sitting in the air conditioning, and you decided to get revenge by covering me in whatever it is you're covered in! I'm not going to do it!"
"Please?"
"ARTHUR!"
Arthur's knuckles gently rapped on the door. Shave and a haircut. "Open Sesame."
"No." Merlin lay back, cushioning his head on his arms.
"Merlin, I was working for hours."
"It's your fault."
"But the equipment isn't here. I needed a work out. You like me fit, don't you?"
Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Merlin, please. You love me, right? Or were you just after my money?"
Merlin sighed. "Arthur, do you have any idea what crap I've had to take? I would never go through that if it was just for the money."
"So have sex with me."
"No! Take a bloody shower! Even then, I'm mad at you!"
"What did I do?"
Merlin waited.
"Okay," Arthur continued, "Fine. I won't do any more yard work on our honeymoon. But you refused to go for a run with me."
Merlin glared at the door. "You asked me to go running at eight in the morning," he reminded him.
"So? You were awake."
"Arthur, do you have any idea what it feels like after you've been pounding in my arse for hours? I could barely walk to the bathroom! I can't go for a run!"
"It's because you're ill, isn't it? Is that why you're irritable?" Arthur deduced.
"You're a prat!"
"You're insufferable!"
"I'm insufferable?"
"You locked me out!"
"You're covered in dirt and who knows what else and you want to have sex!" Merlin reminded him angrily.
"I just wanted to kiss you!"
"LIAR!" Merlin accused.
There was a pause, and then Arthur admitted, "Fine. I wanted to seduce you. I don't want to wait for a shower. Come to bed."
"Arthur, take a shower." Merlin sighed, compromising, "I'll make you dinner. I'll make you dessert. I'll give you brownies and ice. We'll do five rounds before bed. Just take a shower."
There was a very long pause. Then Arthur, his voice sounding far too cheery, asked, "Really?"
"Yes."
"Can I have a kiss before I take a shower?"
"NO!"
...
Arthur slumped against Merlin's back. "Mmm," he mumbled. Satisfied, he wrapped his arms around Merlin's stomach, pulling him closer. Merlin sneezed. "I forgot you were gravely ill," Arthur remarked quietly, "tomorrow I'll have to clean the house."
Merlin buried his face in the pillow. He groaned, reaching down to pull a blanket over them.
"I'll probably get all dirty, especially cleaning the crawl space. Most likely bugs of all kinds, cobwebs, even worms-"
Merlin shivered.
"-and the dust on the bottom floor is almost an inch thick, I thought I saw a tarantula down there one time when I was little..."
"Fine," Merlin interrupted, "I'll clean the bloody house with magic."
Arthur grinned. "That's a good warlock."
"Go to bed," Merlin mumbled, throwing a pillow into Arthur's face.
...