*Unknown Title*

When Merlin arrived outside Arthur's chambers he was feeling more than a little apprehensive. Normally Gaius got him up so he could wake the Prince and complete his chores but this morning, for some reason best known to himself, Gaius had left him to sleep – causing Merlin to have staggered out of bed nearer to midday than dawn. Merlin was not looking forward to the rant which would surely ensue and therefore pushed the door open incredibly dubiously.

Arthur, however, was not still in bed, nor was he looking remotely angry and Merlin's guilty expression changed to one of confusion within seconds. Arthur was standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips and looking extremely forlorn. Looking around the room, Merlin would not have been surprised if a small hurricane had hit it; the rug in front of the fire was burnt; his sheets were a tangled heap in the middle of the bed; his armour was scratched in places and one of his curtains was on the floor. Arthur was looking akin to a child whose favourite pet had just died and Merlin began to wonder just how long he had slept for.

"Uh…Arthur? What happened in here?"

Arthur sighed and absolutely did not blush "It's your birthday."

"What? How did you know that?!"

Arthur still wouldn't meet his eyes. He murmured something about Merlin's mother that the servant couldn't quite hear but Merlin pressed on.

"OK…but…what does my birthday have to do with this?"

Arthur shrugged "I tried to do your chores for you. I told Gaius to let you sleep" If Arthur hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now "I didn't know what you would want so I just thought…" he trailed off and gestured vaguely around the room. Merlin was feeling unbelievably touched and he grinned widely.

"You know, for a prat, that was a surprisingly nice thing to do, Arthur."

"What? I've just given you more work now!" Arthur said dejectedly.

"Still…thank you."

Arthur looked incredulous "For what?"

"For caring." Merlin said simply. Arthur looked up at him then and their eyes met.

"So," smiled Merlin softly after the intense eye contact had started to go on longer than was strictly platonic, "you want me to clean all this up?"

Arthur's face fell and he sighed in defeat. Merlin exercised all his self control not to laugh at the miserable expression on his master's face and went to move past him towards the bed. But Arthur's hand around his wrist stilled him.

Merlin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at Arthur in alarm. Arthur seemed to be going through some immense inner turmoil, as his eyes flashed with emotions Merlin could not decipher, but before Merlin could question him, Arthur's jaw set in decision and he leant forward and kissed him full on the mouth.

Merlin felt rooted to the spot and he was sure his heart stopped beating altogether. Before he really took in what was going on, however, Arthur had pulled away again; looking almost as shocked as Merlin felt and with a face redder than anything Merlin had ever been pelted with. The Prince released his wrist as if it had burnt him. It was the first time Merlin had ever heard Arthur sound so vulnerable and defeated.

"Sorry….I just…sorry-"

"Don't be." Merlin interrupted, still a little shocked but grinning all the same, "I…I think I preferred that gift."

Arthur looked at Merlin again then - still unsure but with hope in his eyes this time.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Merlin breathed.

If you asked them now, neither would be able to tell you which one moved forward first; nor which of them threaded their fingers through the other's hair the fastest; or even whose grin was widest when they broke apart slightly to rest their foreheads together. But Arthur might tell you about the ghost of a breath against the nape of his neck as he leant his head forward against Merlin's shoulder, still grinning like a lunatic. And Merlin would probably mention the softly whispered "Happy Birthday" that made his breath quicken and his heart swell. But they could both definitely remember how then ended up lying entwined together on Arthur's bed; ignoring the burnt rug, the fallen curtain, the scratched armour and the tangled sheets; and thinking that they had both just been given a better gift than either of them had ever envisaged receiving.