The first thing Robin notices when he wakes up is the noise—the sound of traffic and people in Melbourne city is louder than in the suburbs. The second thing he notices is Oliver’s arm slung over him.

Robin turns around in bed to face Oliver, a sense of awe and I can’t believe this is happening in his chest. The dim light traces the outline of Oliver’s face, and those lips that kissed Robin quite often last night.

And best of all, Robin has an extra hour to spend with Oliver, because he doesn’t have to commute in.

Robin slips out of bed first to go to the bathroom. When he returns, Oliver makes a groaning sound.

“Rooooobin,” he mumbles. “Sleep in.”

“It’s Monday, don’t you have work too?” Robin says, sitting down on the bed.

Oliver groans. “No work. Only sleep.”

“Do you want breakfast? Or brunch, given the time.”

Oliver opens his eyes, giving Robin a look of betrayal.

“Alright, cuddle,” Robin acquiesces. “Are you sure you weren’t a koala in a previous life?”

Robin slips back in bed, and Oliver is quick to sling an arm and leg over Robin.

At first, Robin’s constantly thinking about how handsome Oliver is, taking careful catalogue of his eyelashes, of the curve of his cheeks, the coil of his curls. But inevitably, Robin’s thoughts turn to the things he needs to do at the shop today—decorating the cakes, transferring the icecream to the front, preparing the fruit…

“I really need to get up now,” Robin says regretfully.

Oliver pouts. “Fine.” Oliver gets up when Robin does. As Robin heads to the kitchen, Oliver pads sleepily to the bathroom.

Robin puts on his gift apron and starts making breakfast; by the time Oliver re-emerges, hair wet and body smelling faintly of gingerbread, Robin has prepared tea, toast, sunny-side up eggs, and washed up all the dishes from last night.

Oliver pouts. “Why didn’t you wait for me to cook?”

Robin smooths down his apron pointedly, until Oliver reads the words.

Oliver huffs. “Evil,” he mutters, and finally gives Robin a kiss.

“I had time,” Robin says. “Sit, I’ll pour you some tea. It’s the earl grey, and it’ll go well with some of that taro birthday cake, if you want.”

Oliver immediately nods his head and promptly takes a seat.

The meal passes in quiet conversation and warm smiles. They have the eggs and toast while it’s still warm, yolk runny and rich. (Robin makes a note to acquire avocados for next time.) The earl grey tea has a delicate fragrance, and Robin hides a smile behind his cup as Oliver’s eyes brighten at the cake.

“So this is your birthday cake,” Oliver muses as he takes a bite. “Hmm, it’s really fluffy. Not that much taro. But I think I liked my birthday cake better.”

Robin gives him a fond look. “There’s no need to insult other bakers.”

“But I like your desserts best,” Oliver says, even as he continues eating the cake.

“Flattery like that will get you anywhere,” Robin says, lips quirking up.

Oliver’s eyes alight. “Hm, I’ll keep that in mind.” His foot nudges Robin’s under the table.

Robin smiles back just as innocently and nudges him back, his heart warm and calm.

bafflinghaze

Oliver: *pleading eyes emoji* *droopy puppy ears*
Robin: ...Alright, cuddle