After the sledging and the snowpeople and the snowball fight with Elena and Elyan and Percival in the park down the way, Arthur followed Merlin to his house at the edge of town. The walk was a bit long, longer because of their many layers, so Merlin yanked Arthur down into the snow in the front garden when they finally, huffing and puffing, got to his house. Arthur caught his breath as Merlin smiled squintily and waved his arms and legs about in the snow.
"What're you doing, Merlin?" Arthur asked, resigned note in his tone. Merlin would flail about even if he had nowhere to fall.
"Making a snow angel, Arthur, were you born yesterday? From a hole in the ground?" Merlin replied, frowning incredulously as he peered over his stripey scarf-the one that Arthur got a little cross-eyed with if he looked at it too long.
Arthur ignored the jab at his apparent 'lack of culture,' considering Merlin couldn't tell the difference between gruyere and Laughing Cow. "A snow angel? It looks like you're having a seizure in slow-motion."
Merlin snorted and stood up, having only a little trouble in his four layers of trousers, to look down at his work. Arthur sat up too, to see what did look sort of like an angel, if angels were triangles. But Merlin looked very pleased with a layer of snow comically sticking to the back of his body. Arthur couldn't help but smile as well. Merlin was like an incurable disease, spreading the happy everywhere, so there was no use in tamping down the warmth in Arthur's chest.
"It's clearly a snow angel!" Merlin exclaimed, gesturing with his mittened hands.
Arthur looked down at his own ski gloves and then flopped back in the snow, swiping his arms and legs for a moment before standing and assessing his own technique.
"You'll get better," Merlin said, snickering. "Although I'm not sure how you can mess up a snow angel."
Arthur laughed and elbowed Merlin lightly. "I don't get enough practice flailing about, I suppose."
The angel did look a bit funny. Its wings were bent and it looked a bit droopy, but the silliest thing about it was that it shared wingspace with Merlin's own angel. It looked like the angels were holding hands. Or, hand-wings.
"I think they're in love," Merlin joked.
"It's a budding romance, for sure."
"Looks a little emotionally unstable, that one," Merlin added, pointing to Arthur's angel. "Perhaps Gilbert should take caution entering into this new relationship."
Arthur pouted. "Hey, don't judge based on looks!"
"Sorry, Arthur. Didn't realize you were so sensitive."
"Also, Gilbert?"
"Whatever. It's not as bad a name as your Mabel."
Arthur snickered, watching Merlin watch him through those very blue, very squint-happy eyes.
"Wanna come in for hot cocoa?" Merlin asked after a moment.
"Yeah," Arthur said, nodding. "Father's not back until Tuesday, so there's not much to do at home besides hearing Morgana's death metal."
Merlin hooked an arm around Arthur's shoulders and led him to the front door. "You know, you can stay with me anytime. It's pretty lonely, so... and I know Mum adores you..." Merlin trailed off, face colouring when Arthur didn't respond immediately to fill up the awkward silence.
Arthur looked down at his feet, said a quiet, "Thanks, Merlin."
When Merlin let him into the house, showing uncharacteristic graciousness when he helped Arthur out of his tangled scarf, Arthur leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
Merlin's answering smile lit up the room, as always, but there was a quality to it that had Arthur letting out the shaky breath he'd been holding. When Arthur opened his mouth to explain, or-or something, Merlin just took his hand and led him into the kitchen.
"So, would you like some cocoa with your marshmallows, Mabel?" he teased, and Arthur was laughing again, feeling light as air, like he'd like to kiss Merlin again.