There was nothing quite like waking up after a night of really fantastic sex.

Oh, sure, sometimes there was a bit of a mess involved but that nice ache in the muscles, the thick syrup satisfaction, the humming of possibility in your veins? Nothing like it.

Arthur nosed further into the neck of the body he was curled around, smiling sleepily. He got a rather choked sound in response, and lifted his head, blinking.

Merlin was staring at him like a hunted deer trying to decide if he should flee for his life or stay perfectly still and hope the hunter didn't notice him.

Arthur barely resisted the urge to bury his head into the pillow and groan.

He was going to do this properly. He was going to—all right, he wasn't going to shower Merlin with flowers or anything, but he was damn well going to do something romantic. He was going to let Merlin see the depth of his feelings and—

The depth of his feelings?

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

"Having second thoughts?" Merlin asked dryly. Apparently Merlin's sass didn't have an off switch, even early in the morning after three (four?) rounds of extremely enthusiastic sex.

"Why would I be?" Arthur countered. "Are you?"

"What?" Merlin frowned. "I'm sorry, you're talking to the bloke who's saved your life on several occasions."

"I don't think this was a life-threatening situation, Merlin."

"Right. Are you having second thoughts?"

About his feelings for Merlin? No. About the wisdom of fucking him blind last night? Yes.

Merlin seemed to take his silence for confirmation, however, and started to get out of bed. His face had that pinched, closed-off look it got when Arthur had done something to disappoint or hurt him. It was an expression, although he'd never say it out loud, that Arthur had been trying to avoid causing lately. Arthur blinked, unsure of what to say or do the rectify the situation.

Unfortunately, when unsure of what to say or do, he tended to revert to what Merlin called "prattish behavior."

"It's not like I was the one begging for," Arthur raised his voice a few octaves, "More, more god yes, never stop, please."

Merlin arched an eyebrow, halfway through putting his pants back on. "I seem to recall being promised three castles if I went 'just like that, perfect, fucking perfect'."

Arthur was pretty sure you could fry eggs on his face. "I did not promise you three castles."

"Yes, you did. And my weight in gold." Merlin's face grew thoughtful. "And that's not even the beginning of what you promised if I let you tie me to the headboard."

Arthur glanced up and saw Merlin's red neckerchief looped around one of the posts on the headboard, the fabric now rather soiled and hanging limply as if from extensive exertion. His face flushed even more. Merlin had looked rather nice tied up like that, and the way he'd tugged at the fabric and moaned...

Arthur swallowed, derailing that train of thought before he tackled Merlin and did it all over again. He looked up, only to find that Merlin was staring at him, eyes impossibly bright, his thin chest rising a little more quickly than usual.

What the hell. Arthur had never been good at being romantic anyway.

He held out his hand. "Come here."

Merlin scowled. "If you think that I'm just going to obey your every command now like some kind of paramour—"

"Merlin." Arthur lowered his voice to a growl, remembering how it had made Merlin react last night. "Come. Here."

Merlin flushed all the way from his chest to the roots of his hair, nearly tripping over his pants as he scrambled to get back into bed.

Arthur grinned. This was going to be fantastic.