I don't own Merlin.
/
Summer is one of the best and alternately the worst of the seasons for Merlin, and he knows it. Summer means sweaty clothes, and dented armor, and tournaments, and dangerous people trying to invade, and the never ending challenge of keeping Arthur fed goes up very quickly with all the running about he does.
This, of course, is not the reason why he goes to bed early and flatly refuses to move so much as a toe out of bed, oh no. It's because of Arthur's bed head.
"Let me get this straight," Gwaine says over a breakfast of toast and what may have been last year's bacon, "You are, from here on out, allowed to sleep in so long as you so desire? What is this madness?"
Merlin grins, spearing another piece of bacon with the knife. "Bed head. Gwen's taken to monopolizing his mornings trying to either tame it or do illicit things to it."
Gwaine chokes on his toast, raising an inquisitive and somewhat disbelieving eyebrow.
Merlin nods, smirk widening. "Oh yes, and I'm loving every minute of it." He stretches luxuriously in his chair, grin widening as Gwaine shakes his head, grinning as well. "Seriously. It's wonderful. I get to sleep in until the sun's come up and I get to have breakfast at a humane time again-"
"-With me, so the wonderful is doubled-"
"-Thank you, Gwaine, but yes. It's nice being able to spend time with you again rather than having to fight my way through dinner to get a glimpse of the back of your head." Merlin grins, and smugly recaptures the toast that has oh so sneakily been sliding closer and closer to Gwaine's plate.
"Oi! I was going to eat that!"
"Was being the operative word, there."
"Bugger off."
"Not likely," Merlin laughs, face splitting into a grin. "You're stuck with me for the rest of your days, Sir Gwaine. You may as well accept it."
Gwaine shakes his head, grinning as well. "What're friends for, eh?"
"You mean besides doing the laundry and making the breakfast and generally cleaning whenever stuff gets thrown about crazily or goes bad?"
"Pfft." Gwaine flicks a small bit of bacon at his roommate. "Please, it's not like I haven't done some of that stuff."
"Of course," Merlin drawls wryly, catching the bacon neatly and swallowing.
/
"So I hear Gwen likes your hair..."
"Shut up."