Disclaimer: I still don't own Merlin. Ask again later.

31 Days of Christmas

Day 10:
Decorations.

Fic:

Christmas was supposed to be a cheerful time of year, filled with love and family and friends and togetherness and all that fun stuff. It was not meant to be about who had the best decorations on their house, who was the most creative and went all out, creating the most elaborate set-up on their snow-covered lawns and homes.

Yet every year, Arthur and Merlin found themselves at war with Gwaine and Percival, who lived just across the street from them, in a cut-throat competition to see which couple could dress up their home in the most festive sort of way. There were no prisoners, there was no mercy, there were no rules. There were only four men, two houses, and a twisted contest to see who would be the victor this year and who would be the loser, forced to walk around with the shame of such a title for a whole year.

Merlin had been, once upon a time, merely a spectator, choosing to sit out of their macho head-games and ego-boosts, but now he was just as into crushing Gwaine and Percival as Arthur always was. Somehow, the Pendragon had got into his head, convinced him that decking out the exterior of their house was just as important to their winter-time survival as hot chocolate and warm blankets was. And once he was in, there was no going back.

"Arthur, where are you?" Merlin hissed into his phone, watching out the window as discreetly as possible as Gwaine and Percival, just across the street and all bundled up, went about stringing lights and putting up decorations on their house, garage, bushes, and lawn.

They had quite a bit of decorations sitting on their porch, thrown on the ground, the whole affair looking quite haphazard at best. But, Merlin knew, they would have it done within a few hours. He would leave the window for a cup of tea and then he would come back and everything would suddenly be done. Their house would be glowing like the freaking stars themselves and their house would look perfect, seemingly finished until Arthur and Merlin did their house and then, oh then, they would bring out the big guns, each pair adding more and more decorations and lights, always having to one-up the other until Christmas Eve came and the decorating had to stop, according to the one rule they'd always had.

And then there would be judging. Leon, Lance, Gwen, Elyan, and Morgana would stop by and they would decide who had won. And the winners would get a special prize—one that was always kept secret until the last minute.

But, it wasn't the prize they were after, it was the sweet, sweet bragging rights. And Merlin would be damned if Gwaine and Percival won that again. Not this year.

"At the store. Picking up everything we need—all the lights and everything."

"Right, well, you better get more, Gwaine and Perce have started decorating."

"Already?"

"Yes. And they really want to win again, so you better get the good stuff."

"Oh it can't be that bad, this is only the first leg."

"They've got an inflatable snowman, Arthur! Inflatable!" Merlin exclaimed, glaring out the window as Gwaine hooked it up to the machine that would, well, inflate it.

"What! We had an agreement! No inflatables! Those bastards!"

"That was never made an official rule, though."

"That's because there are no rules."

"Exactly! Which is why they have an inflatable snowman on their lawn! I don't have to tell you how serious this is, Arthur."

"Right, okay, right. I'll, get uhm… What, an inflatable Santa Claus and a penguin?"

"Yes. Among other things. Just… grab anything that looks Christmasy and we'll throw it on there. And hurry up." Merlin hissed into the phone. Arthur's competitiveness had rubbed off on him. And if the fate of their house and honor didn't hang in the balance, he might have given it a second thought, but, as it was, all he could seem to focus on was beating Gwaine and Percival at their own game. Beating them for once in quite a few years would be the sweetest sort of victory Merlin would ever need to taste.

Arthur chuckled on his end. "It's kinda hot when you get all competitive like this."

"Arthur! Just… the decorations. Get them and get home. We're at war here; we don't have time for your hormonal needs that match those of a teenage boy!" And then he hung up, going back to watching his sworn enemies during the holiday season out his window for a few more minutes until he decided his time was better spent figuring out the best way to crush them instead of watching them win.

He sat down at the dining room table with a cup of tea, paper and pen in his hand as he figured out the best set-up, the best layout of the lights and other decorations Arthur was out getting. He had no way of knowing the specifics of what Arthur was buying until he came home with them, but he could at least have a general plan of attack ready to go.

They would definitely be utilizing the trees this year. The year before they had strung lights through the bushes but had neglected to do anything with the trees, and that had been their down fall. They would need to use most, if not all, of the lawn, the whole of the front of the house would need to be covered, probably even the roof, though it'd be a bitch to get up there and set everything up without slipping off in the weather they'd been having lately…

"Fuck, you weren't kidding, Merlin," Arthur groaned, coming in through the front door and dropping all his bags to the floor as he kicked off his snow-covered boots and shed his coat and gloves, leaving them on the coat-rack and couch. "They're not playing around this year, are they?" he asked, grabbing the seat across from Merlin.

Merlin gave a half-answer, lost in his thoughts and plans. How were they truly going to beat them this year, he wondered. Could it even be done anymore? Once, he had naively thought that it was as possible as anything else in the world, but after losing to them so many times, he wasn't so sure anymore…

"So what's the plan, then? Do we need to get started now or do we have time to—"

"Nope, gotta do it now." Merlin interrupted, cutting his eyes at Arthur even as he glanced between Merlin and their bedroom. "The sooner we get the first part done, the sooner the war can really begin." He said, pushing back from the table to go inspect the bags Arthur had brought in.

"But it's freezing out there right now!"

"And it's only going to get colder. So we'll get the ground work done now, and then once they get their second installment up, we can go more elaborate. Some of the lights on the front can go up now, and we can put the penguin up now, but I think we should save the Santa and the moving reindeer for later. The roof can wait a week; hopefully it won't be so slick then, and then we can…" Merlin ranted on for a while then, going through the bags and deciding what would go up and when and what else Arthur was going to need to pick up next time he went out, and oh, wouldn't it be a good idea to spell out Merry Christmas or something on the roof or in front of the inflatables?

A week went by, and then two, and then it was the day before Christmas Eve and both houses seemed to have been swallowed up in Christmas lights and decorations. There were displays and inflatables and words spelled out in lights. Trees and bushes were all properly utilized this year, and it really seemed as though it was anyone's year to win it. Both houses were enveloped in the lights, beacons of festivity and hope—and quite a bit of annoyance when they left it all going through-out the night—for the whole neighborhood.

Yes, both homes were properly decked out and their friends would certainly have their work cut out for them when it came time to decide who was the rightful winner of the bragging rights and special prize that was usually something silly and childish but that the winners loved anyway. And Merlin would be content, no matter who won, that they'd done their best and that their house looked pretty damn grand and festive.

But, he would be even more content if he and Arthur walked away the winners.

"The house looks great," he told Arthur, sipping on his tea as they sat down for a light dinner that night.

"It looks amazing. We're definitely going to kick their asses their year," Arthur grinned back.

"Yeah, maybe."

"But it could probably use just one more thing…" Arthur said suddenly, his eyes glazed over with thought as they swept the room, lips pursed as though he was looking for something.

"The house is perfect, Arthur. Besides, we're all out of things to add and it's the day before Christmas Eve, all the stores are either closed or all out." He shrugged, trying to convince himself that he wasn't even just a little bit curious about what Arthur had in mind. Most of the ideas had been Merlin's, with Arthur mostly being in charge of bringing the ideas to life. But, when he did come up with the odd idea, it was usually brilliant and put the decorations even more on par with Gwaine and Percival's.

But they were out of decorations, he had to remind himself, and even if they weren't, the only possible place left to put things was the roof, and it was quite slippery at the moment, they had found out the hard way, with Arthur nearly falling off it the last time he'd been up there. And no competition was worth Arthur breaking his neck over. No matter how badly they both wanted to win.

"There are still the decorations up in the attic—the ones from last year?" Arthur reminded him, nodding upwards as he spoke.

"Right, but there's no way you're going out on the roof, Arthur." Merlin shook his head. "Too slippery, remember? You almost fell last week when you were up there."

"But it's bound to be better now. I mean," he shrugged. "It snowed earlier, sure, but there's been plenty of time for it to settle and everything. I'll be fine as long as I'm careful,"

Merlin just shook his head, falling into a ten-minute conversation/argument that ended with Arthur going up to the attic and pulling the old decorations out anyway.

With Merlin close behind him, still objecting the whole way, he went outside and set up their ladder, climbed up to the roof and began to ask for this strand of lights that he prayed still worked and that Santa decoration that would look good just in the front.

Merlin sighed, trying to convince him to get his ass off the roof before he fell and broke his neck, still passing him the decorations as he tried to make his case. He really wanted Arthur to get down, to go back inside with him and stay safe and alive, but he also wanted to win, and he knew it was wrong to enable Arthur like he was, and he felt guilty…

But he really wanted to win.

Still struggling with what he wanted more and half-arguing with himself on the subject, he barely noticed when Arthur disappeared from sight until he heard a horrible thudding noise and his groan of pain coming from the other side of the house. Heart thudding, he raced down the ladder and found him on the snow-covered ground, groaning in pain and cursing about lights and stupid winter weather and how he was going to strangle Gwaine and Percival with the lights that had tripped him when he next saw them.

After a long night spend in the emergency room, Arthur was sent home with Merlin with a cast on his arm and some pain medication in his hands. He was a little scratched and bruised up, but, aside from the broken arm, he was going to be just fine.

Of course, once everyone arrived and they relayed the story to them, Gwen and Morgana didn't quite see it that way.

"Are you completely stupid?" Gwen demanded, hands on her hips as she stood in front of the boys with Morgana. Merlin opened his mouth, wondering why he was being yelled at as well. He had tried to stop Arthur, after all, and that should count for something.

"You were handing him the decorations!" Morgana hissed. "You cared more about beating these two idiots than staying safe. And don't you two even think about going anywhere!" she shouted, gluing Percival and Gwaine to their chairs as they tried to get up and leave unsuccessfully. "This is just as much your fault as it is theirs!"

"What did we do?" Percival asked.

"It's not like we pushed him or made him go up there or anything! He's the one who wanted to try to beat us so badly he was willing to risk his neck to do it!" Gwaine added.

"If you weren't so wrapped up in beating each other at this stupid competition, Arthur wouldn't have been on that roof last night, he wouldn't have tripped over those stupid lights and fallen, he wouldn't have a broken arm and a beaten up face—none of this would have happened if the four of you could just behave like adults every once in a while!" Morgana hissed.

Merlin ducked his head at her words, of course she was right, but did she really have to yell at them like children? And in front of everyone? Elyan, Lance, and Leon seemed to be getting a kick out of the girls berating them like that…

"But—"

"No buts, Arthur Pendragon," Morgana cut him off sternly. "You could have died, you know that? Could have broken your neck or—or worse."

"But I didn't!"

"But you could have. And then what? Hmm?" Gwen demanded. "We would have been spending today and every day after missing you, all because you wanted to win some stupid competition that doesn't even matter!" She turned on Merlin then. "And how would you have felt? Knowing that your boyfriend was dead because you lot wanted to beat Gwaine and Percival at decorating your house for Christmas? This is supposed to be a time of family and love, but you four have taken it to such a level of—of animosity! And you're supposed to be friends!" Gwen shook her head furiously, blinking away tears in her anger. Merlin hadn't seen her or Morgana this angry in quite a few years now...

And it was scary. He was afraid they might take the rest of them up to the roof and push them off it, all to make them realize how easily Arthur could have been more seriously injured in his fall.

The girls yelled at the four of them for at least a half-hour then, ripping each of their heads off, back-tracking and doing it all over again until it seemed as though they'd run out of steam and they were allowed to go eat dinner. Though even then they still managed to glare at them between bites and silly stories told to fill the time, their anger evident enough that none dared to mention the competition until half-way through the meal.

"So… I know we were stupid and childish and whathaveyou," Arthur swallowed a pill with a gulp of tea, gesturing with his good hand. "But… if you don't mind me asking… Who would you say won this year?"

Merlin flinched at his question. Maybe he could talk Gwen and Morgana out of another round of screaming at them by claiming Arthur had hit his head when he fell off the roof? Or, at the very least, maybe Arthur would let him have one or two of his pills to help him endure it…

Fin.