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Alfred wasn’t a morning person. He hated mornings. Most people thought otherwise, finding it hard to believe the hyperactive man could feel anything less than his best, but he really wasn’t. From the moment he woke up to the moment he gulped down five cups of Folgers, he was the most irritable creature on the planet.
Every morning without fail he’d curse as he tripped over something, knock something over in his sleepy state, or put something on backwards and not notice until Matthew told him. Then he’d wolf down his food along with his requisite coffee and rush out of the door. Matthew would wait, and a few moments later Alfred would come rushing back in to give him a kiss goodbye before leaving again. Then Matthew would calmly get ready for his day and leave.
But some days were special. Sometimes, they both got the day off. Today was one such day.
Matthew always woke up first. He spent a few minutes watching Alfred sleep before kissing him lightly and carefully getting out of bed. Alfred moved forward, a light frown creasing his face as he searched for Matthew’s form. Matthew pushed his pillow toward him and Alfred cuddled up to it, burrowing into the familiar scent.
When he was sure Alfred wouldn’t wake up, Matthew went downstairs got started on their special breakfast. The smell of Alfred’s favourite breakfast wafted throughout the house, and after a while he heard Alfred trampling around upstairs. He put on the coffee, and by the time Alfred came downstairs a steaming cup was waiting for him.
“Good morning,” Matthew smiled.
“It is now,” Alfred said as he kissed him. Matthew lightly swatted him for the cheesy line, but Alfred just laughed. He peeked into the pan and smiled.
“Look at those gorgeous pancakes. Are they blueberry, or do I have to do some begging?”
Matthew rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Yes, they’re blueberry. We’ll have to go out later; this is the last bit of them.”
Alfred whooped and started dancing around the kitchen, singing an impromptu song about how much he loved blueberry pancakes. Matthew was still honestly surprised at how waking up to the smell of pancakes changed Alfred’s entire morning persona.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and set the table, eh? I’ve only got two hands, and they’re both busy with these.”
Alfred kept singing but followed Matthew’s request and grabbed the silverware to set the table. He nearly tripped over Kumajiro (whose leg was sticking out from under the table), but managed to get the table set without loss of life or limb. Alfred picked the bear up and put him in his lap, playing with him while he waited for the pancakes to finish.
Eventually they were done, and Matthew started loading them up on a plate. “Put him on the floor, Alfred. You know I don’t like him up there while we’re eating.”
“Aw, poor guy just wants to see what it’s like up here.” At Matthew’s look he quickly put Kumajiro down. He knew from experience that Matthew wasn’t above withholding those delicious pancakes to get him to cooperate.
“Happy?”
“Yes. Save some for me, eh?” Matthew said, putting the plate of pancakes on the table. Alfred quickly speared a few and spread some syrup on them. Matthew sat and grabbed some himself, absolutely slathering them in syrup.
“I still don’t get how you can put so much syrup. It completely overpowers the pancake!” Alfred said around a mouthful of pancake.
“It’s maple syrup! It’s meant to be overindulged in. Why else would it go so well?”
The conversation escalated from there, and by the time they finished their last pancake it had somehow moved to a debate about who had the better claim on William Shatner (“Hey, he was born in Quebec!” “Dude, Star Trek.”).
They laid the topic to rest for another time and started cleaning up. They piled the dishes in the sink, and Alfred washed them while Matthew dried. When the dishes were all returned to their proper places Alfred took Matthew by the hand and led him to the living room. He pushed Matthew down onto the sofa, and he landed with a soft “oof!”
Matthew watched as he rooted through their video library, eventually picking out a movie and putting it in. He laughed when he heard the opening.
“The Motion Picture? If I had known that our argument would put you in a Star Trek mood I would’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“You know you like it too. Budge over, won’t you?”
Matthew scooted over and Alfred sat. He tugged on Matthew’s sleeve, and Matthew followed his directions until they were both stretched out on the couch, pressed up against each other.
“Is this going to turn into a Star Trek movie marathon where you point out every reason Shatner is yours while I attempt to actually watch the movie?”
“Maybe.”
Matthew groaned. “I’m not comfortable enough for this.”
Alfred poked his side, smirking when Matthew yelped. The man was so ticklish. “Too bad. I’m too lazy to move now.” He ignored Matthew’s mumble about too many burgers and not enough exercise. “Now watch the movie so I can prove to you how Shatner’s mine.”
Matthew snorted but settled in to watch the movie, the remote within easy reach for when Alfred got too loud and he had to raise the volume. He always did.
Of course there were those times that neither of them cared about the movie and were much more focused on making each other scream, but this wasn’t one of those times.
So they both settled down and paid attention, Alfred drawing Matthew close and wrapping an arm around his waist.
And sitting there, with Matthew pressed against him, his head on his shoulder with an arm around his waist and a movie on the screen, Alfred could say that sometimes, he really loved mornings.
“This simple feeling” indeed.