All Judal's life, he had longed to see snow.
It was almost comical, how someone framed to be so cold had never seen the ice and snow that his frozen heart would imply. Sinbad had laughed, when Judal told him. Judal was nineteen years old and he hadn't once yet seen fresh snowfall; and even if that were due in part to their location in a comparatively tropical region of the country, it was still kind of amusing.
"We didn't have a lot of money when I was younger, so it wasn't like we could just go up north whenever we wanted," Judal had explained when Sinbad first brought it up weeks before. "And then when my parents died I couldn't leave town at all, so I guess I gave up on a White Christmas after a while."
He had laughed it off and pretended as though it were nothing, as though it didn't hurt to talk about, but Sinbad's laughter had died by then, and Judal remembered cringing at the sincere pity that had pooled in Sinbad's golden eyes.
Judal had been thrilled when Sinbad later planned to take him up north for Christmas this year-far more excited than he had been willing to admit. Really, it was such a cute concept, the thought of a romantic, white Christmas in a cozy cabin with Sinbad, tucked deep in the forests of snow. Judal was sure that buried, idealistic part of him had died along with his youth, but clearly, there was still something left there.
And didn't that imply that their relationship was moving to the next level, anyways? One didn't take romantic trips with someone they were just fooling around with, that would be investing too much into nothing. But now, on this getaway with Sinbad, Judal was feeling unusually hopeful.
But now that it was Christmas Eve and they were actually here, Judal was cold and miserable and shivering, and it hadn't even snowed yet, and he almost wished they'd never come up here to begin with. Maybe he should've just packed warmer clothes.
"I don't think I'm suited for the cold," said Judal after a while from his heap on the couch, curled up beneath mountains of sheets and blankets and trembling like an angry, soaked cat as the fireplace crackled before him. "It never looks this awful in the movies."
"I told you to bring warmer clothes," called Sinbad from the adjacent kitchen, busy preparing something that he promised would make Judal feel better. "But you said that you were already a 'frigid bitch' and didn't need anything to fight off the cold."
Judal huffed at the memory, burying himself deeper into the warm pile around him. "Well, I thought I'd be okay... And it never snows at home! I didn't have anything to wear!"
"You could've just asked me for something," Sinbad chuckled. "You know that I can't say no to you."
Judal whined, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. "I didn't want to ask for anything else. You've already done so much, I can't ask for more without looking bad."
"Don't worry about things like that," said Sinbad, waving a hand. "I promised to take care of you, didn't I?"
The comment warmed Judal's cheeks, and he looked away with a noncommittal grunt. "I don't need to be taken care of."
"Says the one who can't even fold his own laundry without the maid," Sinbad teased, and Judal bristled at the response. By then, Sinbad had finished his work in the kitchen and came by Judal's side with a mug of hot cocoa held carefully in his hands. "Try this, you'll feel better."
Judal did feel better, when the mug warmed his cold hands and he took a long sip of the hot beverage, but what really warmed his heart was when Sinbad slid under the blankets to rest beside him. Judal hummed in approval and set the mug down on a coaster before bringing himself closer to the warmth at his side. "Thanks," he said, pressing himself up against Sinbad. "You're warm."
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," said Sinbad with a smirk, but he audibly hissed at the feeling of Judal's cold foot pressed flat against his leg. Judal let out a laugh.
"Do you think it'll snow?" Judal asked then, casting another wistful glance towards the window, only to be met with disappointment. He frowned at the sight.
"You're freezing half to death and you still want it to snow?" asked Sinbad, eyebrow raised.
"Oh, be quiet," Judal grumbled, rolling his eyes, but if his shivering was enough of an indicator, Sinbad was right. "Isn't that why you brought me up here? To see snow?"
"That's part of it," Sinbad began, toying gently with a lock of Judal's long, loose hair. "But I also wanted to spend Christmas with you."
Judal felt his cheeks tinge pink. "Way to make me feel shallow."
Sinbad smiled. "Don't worry, you're not. And I'll tell you what," he went on, "if it doesn't snow, that just gives me an excuse to bring you back next year."
"I'd like that," said Judal softly, unusually sincere. "This isn't too bad, after all."
Sinbad grinned, a display of triumph that made Judal wish he'd never said anything to begin with-but the look in Sinbad's eyes was almost worth it. "Good. I'm glad you're having fun," he said, golden eyes growing just softer. "You deserve to make some good Christmas memories."
Judal hummed in agreement, a response that was too soft to be truly genuine, and he was sure that Sinbad noticed. Judal sighed, and his words were muffled beneath the blanket bunched at his lips. "I do, don't I? I mean, the holidays were always so hard when I was younger... I think I'd like some nice memories for a change."
Sinbad was silent for a moment, and then he let the lock of dark hair slip through his fingers and guided his hand up to Judal's cheek, and carefully angled his face to press a gentle kiss against his lips. Judal closed his eyes and reveled in the gesture, and for a moment he almost thought his eyelashes felt damp-was Judal really so unaccustomed to basic affections-as he leaned into the kiss. Sinbad pulled away after a moment, leaving Judal feeling dazed beside him, but undeniably warmer, and by then his trembling had stopped entirely.
"What was that for?" asked Judal, voice low as if he were afraid to shatter the moment-though he was far from complaining.
"We're making memories," Sinbad teased, and Judal's elbow suddenly felt harder in his side. "Kidding, kidding. You know I just can't resist little things like that."
"You're an idiot," said Judal with a smile, leaning up to rest his head against Sinbad's shoulder, who put a strong arm around him in response. "But I guess that's why I like you so much."
Sinbad laughed. "Of course you do," he assured, absently stroking Judal's dark hair, giving a soft chuckle when Judal purred in accordance.
Judal leaned up to press a quick kiss to the corner of Sinbad's lips, and his blush was almost enough to warm Sinbad's cheeks in turn. "Thanks for doing all of this, Sinbad."
It was so rare for Judal to use his name, Sinbad was almost certain that there was added meaning to the words, and he smiled. "Anything for you."
Judal met him with a softer smile, but then his whole face lit up-not at Sinbad, but at something in the distance behind him, and off went the covers as he sprang to his feet with an energy that hadn't been there before.
"It's snowing!" he exclaimed, and Sinbad looked after him with a chuckle, listening to the patter of his bare feet against the hardwood, watching the sway of his loose hair as he ran to the window with childlike exuberance.
Sinbad came up behind him, and felt himself smile at the wonder in Judal's eyes, an expression that held a certain innocence that Sinbad never quite imagined of Judal. But it made sense, in a way-this was an aspect of childhood that Judal had never been allowed to live through, and Sinbad could only imagine his beloved's excitement at the sight.
"Looks like it'll be a white Christmas after all," Sinbad noted with a smile, and Judal's grin grew broad beside him.
"Yeah," said Judal with a laugh, and as he got up on his tiptoes to grace Sinbad with a kiss, that was enough to keep the both of them warm.