As Martin rolls over in his bed - dreams of flying a Handley Page Halifax to bomb the Nazi’s and single handedly win the war - he is suddenly awakened by a firm string of kisses to his lips. He kisses back once sleepily hoping this is appeasement enough to allow him to fall back into a barrel roll while dropping a bomb on Berlin. However, two more kisses press against his lips obviously insisting ‘wake up, wake up.’ Martin opens his eyes to see Arthur grinning at him.
“Morning!” Arthur chirps.
“Mooorn...” Martin mumbles half into his pillow. “Wha time?”
“Oh, it’s about seven!” Arthur answers.
“And it’s a beautiful day!”
Martin rolls his eyes up to look at the small window above his bed, sun streaming in freely as he has no curtains.
“I was going to wake you up for the sunrise,” Arthur continues. “I thought, ‘wouldn’t that be grand to watch the sunrise! Plus we’re in an attic so we’re right next to the roof and I bet we could get out on the roof and watch the sunrise there! It would be brilliant.’ But then I remembered how you always are telling mum about how much sleep you need between flights and we were up a bit late last night so I shouldn’t wake you.”
“But you have now...” Martin points out.
“I know, I couldn’t wait anymore!” Arthur wiggles closer and wraps his arms around Martin, ankles nudging in between Martin’s as well. “Plus, I don’t know how you manage to sleep here anyway. It’s an attic! It is so brilliant to live in an attic!”
“I don’t know about that...”
“Oh, but it is! The ceiling is sloping and your window is a circle and attics are supposed to be for old boxes of mum’s clothes or photo albums or Christmas decorations but you live here! It’s just...”
“Um... thank you, Arthur.”
“You are quite welcome, Skip.” Arthur kisses Martin like a hungry puppy then pulls back abruptly. “Oh! I bet I can call you Martin now!”
“I... uh... I suppose that makes sense.”
“Wow! Martin.” Arthur shakes his head and bites his lip. “Martin... Mar-tin, Martiiiin, MARtin, Martin, Martin. That is amazing, Martin!”
“All right! You’ve said it!” Martin pulls his hand out from under the covers and waves it in a ‘stop’ motion. “Don’t need to over do it.”
“But it’s so neat! I mean I’ve always called you ‘Skip’ or ‘Skipper,’ sometimes ‘Captain’ I guess. Skipper mostly or Skip, one of those two.”
“So, now I can say Martin!”
“Yes, but -”
“Martin, Martin, Martin.”
“But!” Martin insists. “Not while we’re on the plane at work!”
“Oh well, of course not!” Arthur laughs. “Because then you really would be the Skipper on the plane, obviously.”
Arthur laughs again and puts his fingers in Martin’s hair.
“All right...” Martin says slowly.
Arthur squeezes Martin tightly once. “Ah! We sure had fun last night, didn’t we?”
“Wha- Arth - you -”
“Especially when I got on top and you -”
“Don’t say that.”
Arthur pulls back slightly and tilts his head. “Why not?”
“Well, because -”
“Did you not have fun?”
“No, I - I mean yes, but -”
“Because it was really fun! When you did that one hip thing and -”
“But you said you did have fun.”
“But you can’t talk about it!”
“I... well... because.”
“I... I, uh...” Martin opens and closes his mouth twice while Arthur stares at him. “I guess I don’t have a reason.”
Arthur laughs. “You’re weird, Skip.” Arthur grins slowly and chuckles. “I mean, Martin.”
“Oh my,” Martin groans.
“You know, you’re really handsome when you sleep.”
“What!” Martin squeaks feeling heat rush to his face.
“You just look much more relaxed than normally - probably because Douglas isn’t here - your face goes all calm and your hair looks really nice in the light like a fire or those flowers mum keeps planting!”
“Oh, I.... I mean - well... I...”
“And your freckles!” Arthur taps a pattern over Martin’s cheeks. “They’re like an instruction manual for kissing!” Arthur kisses Martin’s cheeks where he’d just touched them with his fingers.
“I...” Martin feels the blush only getting worse as Arthur kisses him. “I... thank you?”
“Oh!” Arthur pulls back.
“What?” Martin squeaks again.
“Oh.” Martin relaxes.
“I could make us breakfast.”
“Eggs and bacon and toast!” Arthur rolls over on top of Martin causing an ‘oomf’ noise from the other. “And coffee, I know you like that! Though I don’t think you have any eggs... or bacon... or coffee. You do have bread though, I saw that, so at least toast! Though I don’t think you have any jam so that’s not good.”
“I know I don’t have so much but -”
“I was going to bring something because I thought ‘that would be a nice treat for the morning.’ But then I thought ‘oh, he might have all that already so it wouldn’t be a treat it would just be double.’ But now you don’t have any of that so it would have been a treat!”
Martin blinks up at Arthur. “I... guess - yes.... that makes... sense?”
“We could go to my house for breakfast!”
“What!” Martin tries to jolt up in surprise and horror but Arthur grabs his shoulders and holds him down in excitement instead.
“There are eggs and bacon and definitely toast there! We also have sausage and maybe even pancakes. Mum might make them if we asked really, really nicely.”
“Don’t you like pancakes?”
“No, not that!”
“Oh good, Martin.” Arthur wiggles his eyebrows briefly at using Martin’s name. “I can’t imagine not liking pancakes!”
“No, no, we can’t go to your house.”
Arthur lies down on Martin’s chest. “Why not?”
“Because, your mum, your - Caroline!”
“Well, yes, she lives there too,” Arthur snorts and chuckles at the same time.
“Exactly! She’ll - and us - and she’ll see me!”
Arthur frowns. “What do you mean?”
Martin breathes in slowly through his nose and puts his hands gently on Arthur’s back. “She will see you and I together, early in the morning which could imply to her...”
“Oh! You mean she’ll realize you and I had se-”
Arthur laughs. “Oh well, you know she’ll find out anyway since I’m not good at lying!”
Arthur chuckles again then abruptly stops laughing as he stares down at Martin.
“Oh god,” they say together.
Neither of them speak for a long beat, just staring at each other.
“Let’s just not think about that,” Martin says finally and Arthur grins in reply.
Martin shifts and awkwardly slides up to sit against the headboard, tipping Arthur to his side. Arthur rests his head on Martin’s arm, legs still tangled about Martin’s. He chews his lip and looks up at Martin slightly guiltily. Martin brushes a hand through Arthur’s hair, raising his eyebrows in question.
“I am still hungry though,” Arthur admits.
Martin sighs. “We could run out and get a take away?”
Arthur pops up, sheet flinging off the bed. “Brilliant!”
Martin squeaks for the hundredth time as Arthur knocks into him, kissing him again with hyper rabbit intensity. Martin stiffens for one second in shocked surprise then falls onto his back again under Arthur’s weight. Suddenly, Martin begins to laugh and wraps his arms around Arthur kissing him back, finally giving in.
“All right, Arthur, all right; yes, brilliant!”