"Morning." Arthur's voice mumbled, sounding hoarse and thick with sleep.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see Arthur awake so early. Well, it made sense - he'd had enough sleep to last a dozen lifetimes.

"Good morning." Merlin replied with a cheery smile, turning around to study his guest. Arthur looked dishevelled, hair tousled and rumpled with sleep, dressed only in borrowed sweatpants. Merlin's eyes travelled over his body, fleetingly lingering on his bare chest - but he forced his gaze away, ears burning with shameful embarrassment.

Arthur leant against the kitchen's doorframe, surveying the squashed room with a heightened air of confusion - of course, almost everything would be baffling and new to the awakened King. Noticing his keen interest towards the toaster, Merlin jumped to explain.

"It's called a toaster. It's like... a bread oven."

Arthur blinked, slightly embarrassed to have been caught staring in such bewildered interest. However, he brushed the feeling aside and nodded, cautiously approaching the foreign contraption.

"An oven? Where do the flames come from? It's tiny!" He exclaimed with nervous laughter - before reaching out to pick up the kitchen appliance.

"Don't!" Merlin cried sharply and hastily grabbed Arthur's hands, pulling them away from the scorching metal. Arthur frowned - a solemn look of shock and remorse - and glanced at their tangled fingers. Almost instantly, a fiery blush crawled up Merlin's neck and he snatched his own hands away, firmly planting them upon the counter instead.

"It's hot - really hot. Imagine... smouldering-coal hot." He explained quietly, a reluctant smile shielding his blazing cheeks.

"Oh," Arthur grinned bashfully - any embarrassment seemingly already forgotten - and ran a hand through his golden hair, "it's just... really strange, I guess."

Merlin nodded; he understood. It had been hard enough, adapting to the way the world changed gradually - he couldn't imagine how Arthur felt, having just been thrust into the twenty-first century. All the technology - cars, phones, toilets, TVs, controllers, even toasters - would surely be confounding and complicated to the newly awakened king.

"Yeah. You put the bread in, pull this lever and... some metal inside heats up. It gets really hot and turns the bread to toast. A toaster." Merlin articulated. As if to aid his explanation, the toaster chortled and two slices emerged.

Arthur stared - nothing short of flabbergasted - as Merlin pinched the crusts, carefully manoeuvring them to a plate.

"One for you, one for me." He hummed and turned away to rifle through a cutlery drawer. "Had I known you were going to be awake for breakfast I would have popped out and brought another loaf. Not that it matters. We have cerea- ...other breakfast foods." Merlin sighed dejectedly and pulled out two butter-knives. He needed to stop presuming that Arthur knew what everything was.

It was like having a toddler in the house; and this likeliness was only confirmed when Merlin turned to see Arthur chomping on the plain toast.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Merlin stammered.

Arthur looked immediately guiltily, hastily returning his half-eaten slice. "I'm sorry - did you want that bit? You said I could have a piece." He fretted, eyes flickering between Merlin and the toast.

Merlin chortled with realisation - it was like having to look after a toddler!

"No, no, it's okay!" He gushed warmly and pulled open the fridge, yellow light spilling out and highlighting his sharp features. Arthur frowned and tentatively picked up the slice once again - only to place it down again with a grumble of annoyance when Merlin added, "Don't eat it yet. You have to wait for the best bit."

Merlin busied himself, hastily gathering every spread he owned - butter, jam, peanut butter, syrup, margarine, Nutella and Marmite - and with a ceremonious clatter, he dumped the armful onto the counter. Smiling, he propped up the condiments, pointing to each in turn as he explained.

"Toast is eaten with something on top. Like a paste, or something." He started slowly. Arthur nodded hesitantly and studied the jars, tins and tubs with peculiar, wary interest. "It makes it taste better. You can have jam, or syrup, Nutella or peanut butter - that stuff is pretty sweet," Merlin pushed the four jars to one side, "or you can have butter, marge or Marmite."

Arthur picked up the closest jar, his eyes struggling over the unfamiliar arrangement of letters.

"Mar-mite?"

Merlin beamed and nodded heartily. "A British classic. You want to try Marmite?"

Arthur nodded confidently, evoking a low chuckle from Merlin.

"What?" The blond glowered, replacing the jar upon the counter.

"Marmite has a fairly selective taste. You'll either love it or hate it!" Merlin chimed merrily, quoting the famous quip.

Arthur processed this information, watching intently as Merlin unscrewed the lid and dipped a knife into the thick, brown gloop. An unfamiliar and overpoweringly meaty aroma tickled his nostrils and he rubbed his nose in disdain.

"It's pretty strong." Merlin piped, spreading a thin layer on his own slice.

"But you like it?" Arthur prodded, quite entranced by his companion's practised skill.

"Love it." Merlin enthused, before taking a bite.

"Greedy pig." Arthur snorted and reached for the knife, ladling a generous amount onto his half-eaten toast. Merlin raised his eyebrows and stared at the lavish dollop, but didn't say anything - instead choosing to take another bite and stay blissfully silent. If Arthur wanted to tease him, then so be it - he would just learn the hard way; Marmite was only enjoyable in modest amounts.

Mustering a great deal of concentration, Arthur focused on spreading the Marmite on his toast, however - unbeknownst to the king - his tongue poked between his lips, illustrating just how hard he was trying. Merlin seized the moment to study his friend's handsome, carved features; looking away just in time when Arthur raised his head, a look of boastful finality lighting his face.

"Finished!" He declared with great flourish, picking up the toast - sagging under the weight of so much Marmite - to proudly show Merlin; who snorted with amusement.

"What?" Arthur huffed irritably and pulled his toast away, evidently annoyed that Merlin didn't praise his diligent effort. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing." Merlin admitted humorously, eyeing the toast with knowing eagerness. "Good luck, that's all."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Merlin was challenging him, and that wasn't something he could ignore.

He folded the slice in two and rammed the whole lot into his mouth - much to Merlin's startled bemusement.

Instantly, the meaty tang clogged his throat and burnt his tongue. It was unbearably strong, and made his eyes water - but he chewed relentlessly nonetheless, determined not to admit that he had made a mistake.

"Good?" Merlin crowed, leaning leisurely on the counter, thoroughly entertained by his companion's pig-headedness.

Arthur nodded furiously, glowering at Merlin - who doubled over with uncontrolled fits of laughter, stumbling around the kitchen in undue amusement.

"I'm sorry, Arthur! It was too funny not to pass up." He snickered and wiped his eyes, watery and light with joyous glee. "I did tell you it was strong! But you didn't listen, you arrogant clotpole."

Finally Arthur swallowed his mouthful and placed both hands upon the counter, gasping for ragged breaths. His steely eyes glistened and his cheeks burned crimson as Merlin howled with laughter, leaning against the fridge for support as he clutched his stomach.

"I told you! I told-" Merlin's raucous laugher was promptly cut short as Arthur tackled his assailant around the waist, hoisting the smaller man over his shoulder in an ungraceful fireman's lift. Merlin yelped in surprise and beat Arthur's back with clenched fists - though still grinned playfully, fits of breathless giggles convulsing his body.

Arthur smirked - triumphant success abolishing his previous embarrassment - and sauntered into the bedroom, throwing his victim upon the bed. The springs squealed with defiance; but it only took a second for Merlin to gather his scattered senses and grab a pillow.

"You want to fight me, Arthur Pendragon?" He challenged boldly, swinging the pillow at the blonde's head without waiting for an answer.

Arthur ducked just in time and - whilst Merlin recovered from the failed attack - launched himself at his challenger.

They tousled playfully in a tangled, flailing heap for a moment - before Merlin admitted defeat and both fell silent, the only sound being their rhythmic, heavy breaths as heart rates slowed and cheeks lost their merry hue.

Arthur's legs were intertwined with Merlin's - where he had attempted to pin him down - and Merlin's arm remained wrapped around his friend's neck. Of this, they were both aware, but neither made an attempt to move.

"I think I won." Arthur whispered finally, the words splitting the silence and reverberating in the air like a warm breath of wind. Turning his head, he discovered - with a peculiar feeling that warmed his insides - Merlin's eyes, mere inches from his own.

Merlin shook his head, his lips twisting into a bemused smile as untidy raven strands swept his forehead. "Don't ruin the moment, you royal prat." He breathed.

Arthur didn't counter his jibe - instead he stared, totally transfixed. Merlin's eyes were mesmerising; deep blue and mystifyingly knowing, like they possessed the answers to Arthur's most pondered questions. They flashed and swam, flecks of gold swimming amongst the blue like goldfish in a crystal ocean. Merlin blinked, and now they sparkled like sapphires, dancing in a shard of sunlight; such an elegant sight to behold that Arthur felt sure his feelings were true.

"Arthur?" Merlin whispered softly, his head moving closer to his friend's, his hand raising his cup his cheek-

"Yes?" Arthur could barely speak; his chest squeezed with nervous apprehensive, his heart thundering with thrill. Did Merlin really feel the same way?

"You have Marmite all over your face."

Instantly the spell was broken. Merlin briskly wiped Arthur's cheek - his touch hardly lingering - before rolling out of bed and wandering back into the kitchen without another word, completely oblivious to Arthur's broken, sinking heart; left alone and cold in the bed for one.

➣

a/n - aaah, I hope you enjoyed this fluffy fic!! I've had it drafted for about 2 months but finally got around to finalising it :D

I'm going to focus on rounding up Heavy Is The Head from now on, so keep an eye out for updates!

fun fact,,, i ate a lOT of marmite on toast whilst writing this!

happy reading x