"Merlin!" Arthur snapped, sounding impatient, and Merlin looked up from the plate of cookies he was arranging to see Arthur standing in the living room in front of the tree. Or, well, it was most likely Arthur, but given that upper two thirds of him was completely hidden behind the towering stack of wrapped boxes held precariously in his arms, there was a non-zero chance that an intruder had broken in, knocked Arthur unconscious, stuffed him in a closet, and was now making a poorly thought-out getaway with all of their Christmas gifts. It was a pretty low non-zero chance, though, since Arthur's voice – and tone – was quite distinctive.
"Sorry," Merlin said cheerfully, "but I don't respond to unkind tones on Christmas Eve Day. Would you like to try that again?"
"Star of my heart," Arthur said through gritted teeth from behind the boxes, "moon to my sun, for the love of God please come get the cat before she trips me and kills me."
It was only then that Merlin looked below the aforementioned towering stack of wrapped boxes, and saw that Aithusa was indeed weaving around Arthur's legs, purring loudly and butting her head against his shins.
"Oh, gods, yes, sorry." He dropped the cookie in his hand and hurried out, snatching Aithusa away so Arthur could put down the boxes. "D'you need a hand?" he asked. The whole thing looked even more precarious up close.
"No, no," Arthur said, "I'm fine. I just need a little bit of room, so if you could keep her occupied for a minute?"
"Sure thing." He took Aithusa out into the kitchen, holding her firmly despite her squirming, and when he put her down he crouched down and scooped up her two front paws so they were eye-to-eye. "Don't try to trip Arthur," he said firmly, staring into wide, unblinking golden eyes. "It makes him cross, and if he's cross, he won't give you the present he's pretending he didn't buy for you. Understand?" Aithusa blinked once, slowly, then licked her nose. "Well, I guess that's as good as it's gonna get." He let her go, and she flicked him with her tail before trotting off in search of new mischief.
Merlin went back out to the living room and lo, Arthur had indeed managed to unload all the boxes beneath the tree with nary a one in pieces. "A Christmas miracle!" he declared.
"Shut up," Arthur groused, but he was smiling. "Thank you for wrangling the dragon."
"Thank you for your feat of incredible strength," Merlin returned, and batted his eyelashes. Arthur pushed him. Merlin pushed back, and things devolved from there.
"No," Merlin whimpered. "No, stop, it's too much. I can't. Red, red."
"Don't be so dramatic," Morgana said, and put another serving of roast duck on his plate to perch across the detritus of garlic mashed potatoes, green beans with almonds, and plum sauce. "You haven't even eaten that much."
Merlin groaned. "Arthur, your sister ignored my safeword," he complained. "She violated my boundaries. I clearly did not consent. This is a food crime."
"Enough with the sex metaphors," Gwen said faux-sternly from across the table. "This is a nice dinner."
"But your wife—" He stopped, cut off by an array of truly impressive eyebrow-lifts. "Oh, all right," he sighed, and tucked into the duck. "But If I can't eat dessert later, I'm holding all of you responsible."
No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Arthur was just as much of a little kid as Merlin was when it came to Christmas. He practically pounced Merlin awake on Christmas morning, all fluffy hair and bright eyes and incandescent grin.
"It's snowing!" he said.
"Oof," said Merlin, because Arthur in all his grace had landed a hand in his solar plexus.
"Oh, damn, sorry," Arthur said, and looked contrite for all of four seconds before breaking out into a grin again. "But it's snowing! Come look."
Standing side-by-side at the window, Merlin cloaked in one of the blankets he'd dragged from their bed, they watched the gentle puffs of white drifting from the bright sky to the disappearing landscape below. Even after so many years of it, it never stopped being magical.
"Happy Christmas," Arthur whispered, and kissed him on the cheek.
Merlin kissed him back, and things devolved from there.
I wrote this back in December as part of a "short story celebration" that marked the third birthday of takingoffmyshoes fanfic. As a thank-you to everyone who'd supported me and encouraged me, I spent two weeks taking writing requests on tumblr, and then posted the finished stories first to tumblr, and then to my AO3 account in February. I initially wasn't going to post them here, but then I thought why not? You guys have been just as kind and encouraging here, and I'll make sure to open up requests on this site as well when December rolls around again.
As always, thank you for reading! Any feedback you'd like to leave is welcomed and appreciated.