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Arthur dragged in long past midnight, equally irritated and relieved when Merlin didn't stir from where he was tucked messily into Arthur's bed, blankets thoroughly rucked up around him and his arms flung up over his head like a sleeping child. Not even the knock of the servant bringing Arthur's wash-water disturbed him, nor the clang of armour Arthur shucked off onto the table — not intentionally noisy, but certainly not silent. As Arthur washed off sweat and dirt from the road from the bucket he'd set on the hearth to warm, he could hear Merlin murmuring in his dreams, little hums and pieces of laughter muffled to unintelligibility.
Arthur had this theory that the lip-smacking thing was Merlin eating in his sleep, which was happening rather loudly as Arthur changed into his nightshirt and stifled snickers over it. He was just about to try to cram himself into what little space remained on his usual side of the bed when the noise became distinctly kiss-ish, and Arthur paused in surprise.
"Merlin?"
No answer but another foolish kiss noise, then a happy trill, and Arthus had absolutlely no choice but to roll him over and demand to know who Merlin thought he was kissing.
"Mmh?" said Merlin, opening his eyes a tiny way. "Oh good, I thought you were here. Patrol okay?"
"Not at all," said Arthur. "It was very tedious. And cold." He poked Merlin in the ribs when his eyes threatened to close again. "Are you aware that you sing in your sleep? You can hardly sing when you're awake."
"Shut up and go to sleep, you daft thing." Merlin said, wrinkling his nose up into a perplexed expression, then hauled him down carelessly into the blankets, curling around him while he was still only half-situated. Arthur supposed he was in trouble if even all that was so endearing that it nearly hurt. But it was hard to worry with Merlin's arm slung warm around his chest and his nose smushed against Arthur's neck. It was hard to do anything, really, but relax, and be glad.