As clumsy as Merlin was on his feet, he was absolutely wicked on the slopes. Arthur'd seen him. Arthur'd seen him fly by, cutting through the fluffy snow as Arthur slid down the slope on his bum, skis crossed.
Merlin was always patient, though, and had coached him through two years of ski trips. He had a smile that melted Arthur's heart if not the snow on the mountaintop, and would weave in and out of crowds of children, over the smallest of bunny hills, to his heart's content-as long as Arthur was happy.
However, Arthur could only take so much. It wasn't until he'd run into a pine tree (very slowly, mind) that Arthur gave up on skiing entirely.
Which was why he was busy making chicken and dumplings in their chalet, fire roaring and stereo playing one of Merlin's randomized mixes to stave of the loneliness while Merlin was skiing the bowls or mogles or other double blacks. He'd be sliding in from the second story any time now, as the chalet was tucked right against one of the slopes nearest the lifts. They'd picked this resort for that very reason.
There was a thump upstairs, so Arthur switched the stereo to Christmas music before ladling their dinner into two bowls.
"Were you playing Elbow a moment ago?" Merlin asked. He was in long johns and one of Arthur's sweaters cheeks red and forehead indented from the ski goggles he'd shed upstairs.
"Were you tripping over yourself upstairs a moment ago?" Arthur returned, placing the bowls at their table infront of the wide window-the one that looked onto the valley before the mountains in the distance.
Merlin snorted, pressing a hand to his cheek and leaning down to kiss his forehead when Arthur sat down. His lips were cold but his hands were warm. "You missed me."
Arthur gestured to the empty chair where Merlin should've been sitting already.
"I missed you too, you know! No need to lie about the fact you were listening to my 'quaint indie music' while I was gone."
"Shut up and eat, Merlin."
Merlin rolled his eyes and sat, spooning a dumpling into his mouth and talking while he chewed. "I saw the chimney going when I skied in. Gave me the warm fuzzies," he said, swallowing and grinning.
Arthur smiled down at his glass of water. "You and your warm fuzzies."
"They're the best," Merlin stated, and proceeded to gobble up his food. "Still feel like I'm skiing. Thighs hurt like hell."
"We'll jacuzzi for dessert," Arthur said, looking up from his glass.
Merlin settled his hand over Arthur's on the table. "Love you," he said simply.
Those familiar words still made his chest hurt, made him blush with how openly Merlin said it sometimes, like he was laying it out naked for the world to see. Merlin cleared the table when they were finished, stuck the dishes in warm soapy water and left the room to fill the bath upstairs. The music switched back to Elbow, making Arthur smirk.
As they stripped off and slid into the hot water in the master bath, Merlin forcing Arthur to sit between his splayed legs while rubbing his sore thighs, Arthur turned his cheek to Merlin's chest and pressed a kiss to his jaw.
"I love you too, Merlin," he said.
Merlin's answer was to wrap his arms around Arthur's waist and press an insistent hand against his heart as the snow came down in flurrying clouds outside their window.