Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Title was inspired by the hymn 'Morning Is Broken.'

MORNING UNBROKEN

There was no finer way to wake up than to the mellifluous sound of Aiden's singing. Both he and Simon were early risers, there was always much to do and the two of them had their routines. Aiden was almost always the first out of bed. He would kiss Simon's cheek and then go forth into the bathroom in order to shower and do his vocal exercises.

That was when Simon would listen. He would consider the day ahead – his work-out, the boardwalks or sideshows that he would be visiting because friends and family were often passing through and he liked to hear the latest news and maintain important time-honoured abilities with those that knew them best. He would enjoy the sounds of the early morning – the sparse traffic outside, the water gushing through the pipes and Aiden singing with such wonderful precision. He would warm up his voice, singing nonsense phrases that apparently stretched all the correct parts of his vocal equipment before he launched into singing songs.

Simon would ease himself out of bed and would begin his own warm-ups, the physical kind that involved limbering up each part of his body before the squats and push-ups began. Sometimes Aiden would finish his shower and singing and would appear in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and his eyes firmly set on Simon. It never failed to make Simon feel as though he could keep doing push-ups forever.

Other times Aiden would stay in the bathroom and keep singing and Simon would work out to the rhythm that Aiden was creating. Simon always found it the most strengthening thing in the world; to hear Aiden's wonderful voice and to feel his body responding to it so masterfully. They truly were an excellent team.

Once he had finished his exercises, Simon would change into his singlet and go downstairs to begin his strength training. There were weights for him to work with, medicine balls and kettlebells. Simon hadn't yet found a better way to keep his strength superior; he was always developing his system though. He often found himself humming as he worked with the weights; usually it was a song that Aiden had recently sung. Simon found that such memories kept him supremely focused.

He would work out for at least an hour, then he would take a brisk shower and dress more formally for the day. Aiden had usually made the bed by this stage and would be in the kitchen, preparing himself a cup of tea with a dash of milk and sweetener never sugar. Simon would then work on waxing his moustache; it was vital hirsute work, a tradition passed down by both his parents, one that Simon was proud and determined to continue. Aiden understood the importance of tradition, of maintaining arts that should never disappear.

When Simon arrived in the kitchen, he would find Aiden reading a British newspaper, specially delivered to their house each morning. A cup of coffee would be waiting for Simon – milky with no sugar or sweetener. Simon always ate a protein-rich breakfast and would begin with an omelette stuffed with a variety of vegetables, courtesy of Aiden. Their feet would touch under the table, another part of their routine. Their cups would clink together before either of them took a single sip.

But when Simon rose to begin to prepare the rest of his breakfast, his omelette eaten, Aiden would always follow him. He would press Simon against the counter and kiss him hungrily, tasting of tea, toast and marmalade. He would always smell of expensive shaving foam and hair wax, and his finely-tailored jacket would feel just right against Simon's skin. Simon's powerful hands would enjoy the lean stretch of Aiden's body, the fine instrument that it was, and he would relish how he could lift and position Aiden and how Aiden would so positively respond. He was always enamoured by the sounds that Aiden made, they were always music to Simon's ears.

This particular interaction was part of their routine, true, but it was also more than that. It was a necessity, a need, one that they both enjoyed immensely. Simon did not feel as though he would ever have his fill of Aiden, his movement or his music. He also felt that this was an overwhelming positive, for both of them. Why, Simon had already experienced how much more he was able to push himself when Aiden was close by or when his voice was in range and Aiden himself had said on more than one occasion that he was able to reach notes with greater ease thanks to Simon's presence.

Their routine ensured that they were always moving forwards and kept them both in impressive condition. Like them, it was anything but routine.

-the end