A/N: Hey everyone! Just decided to leave this winter one-shot here, just to get some ideas out of my head. I hope you all had a great break! I have another week before the semester begins, so I'll either be back with more one-shots or hopefully a chapter from one of my in progress stories like Start Again or Of Kings, Knights, and Warlocks. Happy holidays everyone!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Merlin.
It was days like these when Merlin wondered why he was still with Arthur.
He remembers how the arguments begin, which was usually Arthur performing a pet peeve of Merlin's, or vise versa: Arthur didn't know how to properly load the dishwasher despite Merlin telling him time and time again, Merlin wore Arthur's boots and didn't clean them of their muck and mud, Arthur left the lights on, Merlin forgot to pick up a certain grocery, and the list could go on. Neither of them were good for confrontation, so when they were approached by the other with an issue, it tended to escalate until Merlin couldn't remember why on earth they were fighting in the first place, and it ended with one of them storming out. Today was Merlin's day to slam the door of their house shut behind him, furiously throwing his skinny arms into the sleeves of his jacket as he went.
An hour later found him wandering aimlessly and without destination in the chilly night after a short drink at the local pub, without gloves, a scarf, or a hat. It was fortunate that he had at least bothered to put on a decent coat before running out into the cold, winter night. He tucked his hands into his armpits and huffed, fighting an internal battle between going home and escaping the freezing air, and his protecting his pride.
However, as he absentmindedly watched a cloud of his breath flowing past his lips and dissipating in the wind, he turned and made the trek back to his and Arthur's house; the desire to seek warmth was too strong, and a text from Arthur made him feel worse than he already felt.
Come back home. Please.
The snow crunched beneath his feet, and his ears and hands were nearly numb with how cold they were.
He licked his chapped lips as he approached his door, digging out his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly between his frozen fingers. The glow from the kitchen lights were seeping through the window, illuminating the snow outside slightly, calm and inviting. Merlin shoved the key in the lock and let himself in. Immediately a wave of warmth hit his face, and a sigh of relief left him before he could stop it. He closed the door behind him and took off his coat, wet with snow, stomping his feet on the welcome mat. He sniffed as he kicked off his boots and placed them by the wall, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Arthur?" he called out, curious as to where his boyfriend was.
"In here," came the reply from the kitchen. Merlin followed the voice, shivering lightly as he adjusted to the house's temperature, feeling the hot-cold pain of his nose and ears and hands as they started to warm up. Arthur had his back to him, focusing on stirring something near the stove. Merlin was about to question it when Arthur turned out, two mugs of what Merlin could smell to be hot cocoa in his hands.
"Figured you might want something warm when you got back," Arthur muttered, handing over the mug. Merlin grabbed it, giving the other man a small, grateful smile. He blew at the foamy drink before taking a cautious sip so as to not burn himself. His mouth exploded with chocolaty heat, and he could taste the melting marshmallows and the dash of cinnamon on his tongue.
Just the way Merlin liked it.
He glanced at Arthur over the top of his mug. Arthur's lips quirked up in a sheepish grin, shrugging his shoulders as he took a drink from his own mug. Merlin smiled back and lowered his lips to the drink once again, feeling his chest fill with a warmth that had nothing to do with the cocoa.
For a while the only sounds in the kitchen was the sips of hot cocoa, the light patter of footfalls as either Arthur or Merlin walked around the kitchen, and then finally the thump of the empty mugs being placed on the counter. Arthur took Merlin's mug from him, brushing his fingers against Merlin's, which were, thanks to Arthur, pleasantly warm with feeling once again. As Arthur turned and placed the mugs in the kitchen sink, and Merlin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder with a sigh. He smiled again when he felt Arthur's hand grab one of his own and raise it toward his lips, kissing his knuckles gently. Merlin turned his head and buried his face into the crook of Arthur's neck, caressing the soft skin there with his lips.
Words were left unsaid but understood in that embrace. I'm sorry for fighting, I'm sorry for driving you out, I'm sorry for leaving, thank you, I love you, I love you.
Arthur turned slowly to face Merlin, never once removing himself from Merlin's arms. A soft smile graced his lips before he leaned in slowly, pressing his mouth against Merlin's with utmost care and tenderness, cupping Merlin's cheeks in his hands. Merlin felt his eyes flutter shut as he moved a hand up to curl in Arthur's blonde hair, kissing back, their lips moving together, molding together perfectly.
It was moments like these when Merlin remembered why he was still with Arthur. These moments are when he would realize that for all of their petty fights and arguments, being in Arthur's embrace and feeling the fierce love between them made all of this worth it, and he knew he would not trade any of this for the world.
Outside, the snow kept falling.