Arthur Pendragon: Sixteen years old
Eager Participant of the Annual Christmas Holiday and Boyfriend of Merlin, the boy of Winter

His mother was frowning as she stood beside the door tugging her gloves on and pointedly ignored the way Uther urged her to hurry up with a touch to the shoulder. "Are you sure you'll be alright? I'd rather stay at home with you if you're not feeling well."

Arthur shook his head, offering a smile before he tamped it back a little. Right. Not feeling well. The sickly person who chose to stay at home rather than go out to dinner in town weren't quite as casual and widely-smiling as all that. Arthur leant against the hallway wall. "No, it's okay. I think I'm just a little bit tired from the trip. I might just go to bed."

"Tired my arse," Morgana muttered loud enough to be heard. She shot Arthur a smirk as she tucked her hat on her head; his mother might be fooled by his act but Arthur was sure that, even if she didn't know the real reason for his behaviour, Morgana at least was aware he was bluffing. The slight quirk of her eyebrow was indication enough.

"You have my number," his father was saying, likely as much to soothe his mother's concern as for Arthur's benefit. It was a redundant statement, for of course he had his father's number. Arthur wasn't that backward. "And you have the number of the restaurant should you need it."

"Yes sir," Arthur said with a nod. There was no point pulling the sickly act with Uther Pendragon. When he'd decided that Arthur wasn't coming he hadn't pursued the notion of encouraging him otherwise any further.

"You make sure you do call if you need anything," his mother said as she turned towards the door. Morgana was already disappearing through into the icy night, shaking her head with a final smirk flashed over her shoulder. Arthur's mother took a step towards him and patted him briefly on the cheek in one of those awkward little touches that always discomforted him when they came from anyone. Or almost everyone. "I'll pick up some Nurofen or whatever equivalent they have around these parts for you, okay?"

"I'm fine, Mum," Arthur sighed. "I think I'm probably just tired. I'll sleep it off."

His mother's lips thinned slightly – really, she was so unnecessarily concerned it was almost frustrating – before she nodded shortly. Leaning forwards to press a brief kiss on Arthur's cheek that he struggled not to shrug off, she offered him one more pat to the cheek before turning to leave. His father spared Arthur only on more glance, a short, accepting nod of his head, before turning and following after her.

Arthur didn't move from where he leant on the wall as the door closed. He didn't budge as the lights of the taxi pooled through the windows either side of the door, didn't take a step until those lights disappeared to the sound of a fading engine. Arthur waited for two long breaths, then he was scrambling into motion.

A year. A whole year it had been since he'd last visited Sweden and the nameless town they always holidayed in, and it had nearly killed him. Fuck but he'd missed Merlin so much. If he could he would have urged his parent to leave for their trip even earlier this year, to stay even longer as he had the previous year, but he knew it wouldn't make any difference. His father was set in his ways, wouldn't deviate regardless of how Arthur all but begged.

Arthur should just go himself. Next year he should just leave early, regardless of whether school had finished yet or not.

Arthur raced down the hallway at almost a run, swinging on the doorframe into his room in his haste. Full night had already fallen – they'd gotten into the airport later than usual this year because Morgana had insisted they leave after she'd finished work for the week – and it was all Arthur could manage to ensure that his first night at least he would have free. Free to go and visit Merlin, to see him, to simply be with him as he hadn't for too long.

A whole year was far too long.

Arthur was stumbling around his room, throwing his jacket on and hopping on one foot as his tugged a boot on his other, when a knocking sound drew his attention. He paused in his fumbling, glancing towards the window over his shoulder. The dark window, mostly curtained and revealing only the blackness of night through a thin sliver. Night, and a blossom of ice unfurling like a blossoming flower on the glass.

Arthur's breath caught for all of a second before he was throwing himself at the window and flinging the curtains open and the window immediately after it. A blast of cold air, caught on a sudden wind, swept into the room and immediately chilled him even through his jacket, but Arthur didn't care. He was already smiling broadly because Merlin…

In an instant, Merlin was alighting on the windowsill, legs slung inside and swinging slightly as he settled himself on the ledge. He was smiling himself, head cocked as was so achingly familiar to Arthur and eyes glowing with their familiar will o' wisp brightness.

Arthur was rendered momentarily speechless. It had become a habit of his when he saw Merlin again for the first time after an entire year, one he couldn't quite seem to shake. Merlin was beautiful, and though it was a realisation that Arthur had been vaguely aware of since he'd first seen him so many years ago, it only hit him with renewed force again each time he saw him.

They were about the same age, now. Or at least they seemed to be there about, for Arthur didn't even know how old Merlin really was. Centuries? Millennia? It hardly seemed to matter. In all the time that Arthur had known him, Merlin hadn't changed at all; not physically and not in his light-hearted joviality, his love for the strange life he possessed. He still wore the thin and torn black slacks that reached no further than his knees, the black jumper with only one full sleeve and never any shoes to go along with it. He was still deathly pale, as pale as the snow he conjured from his fingers, his features still sharp and angular and youthful in a way that, through Arthur's child eyes, he hadn't quite registered when he'd first met him. The haphazard mop of his hair that brushed carelessly across his forehead was still overlong, still contrasting starkly to his skin for its darkness, yet never seemed able to hide the brightness of his eyes, the wideness of his smile.

He was beautiful. And he was Arthur's, because not two years ago Arthur had asked him and he'd said yes. Dammit, but Arthur only wished he could follow Merlin everywhere for the entire year.

He was reaching for him without thought a moment after Merlin had appeared, even before he found his tongue. In an instant, Arthur was tugging Merlin through his window, arms locked around him and holding him with the intention of never letting go. Merlin was skinny, was just a little taller than Arthur and the chill that radiated from his skin would have been aversive to many, but Arthur loved it. He'd loved the cold of snow and winter for years now, even before he'd grown to love Merlin.

"I've missed you," were the first words that Arthur spoke. He didn't even realise he was saying them until his own ears heard their muffled announcement, muted as they were in Merlin's shoulder. It felt just so perfect to be with him once more, so easy. It was as though no time had passed at all, even if the longing ache in Arthur's chest remained.

Merlin uttered a small little laugh, bright and carefree as always. "I've missed you too. I wasn't sure if you were coming tonight."

"I'd have made sure of it," Arthur said, even though he knew that his schedule was as much driven by that of his parents' as anything. He drew away just slightly, enough to peer into Merlin's face and meet his open smile with one of his own. It was impossible not to smile in Merlin's presence. "I didn't know you knew where I stayed."

Merlin raised an eyebrow that was just slightly condescending. It was different to Morgana's condescension, however, and only flooded Arthur with that familiar cool warmth. "Of course I know. I've always known where you live when you're here."

"Really? How?"

"You leave footprints in my snow," Merlin replied by way of explanation. And though Arthur had never really understood how that worked, he accepted it as such.

In a brief moment of releasing Merlin from his arms, Arthur shrugged his jacket back off his shoulders. It dropped carelessly to the floor but Arthur barely even notice, was already wrapping his arms around Merlin once more. A shiver rippled down his spine at the icy feel of him, but Arthur didn't mind. He'd grown to love that feeling too. Leaning towards Merlin, he brushed his cheek against his cool skin before turning to press a brief, chaste kiss upon his lips. Merlin replied in kind, just as he always did.

They'd both come a long way since that first, hesitant kiss years before. Arthur had grown to understand that he would never do anything but kiss Merlin if he had the choice. His lips always stung, always burned from the cold of it as though he'd kissed frostbite itself, but he didn't care. Arthur had grown to like that feeling too.

"You're so cold," he found himself murmuring into Merlin's lips after another brief touch.

Merlin hummed in reply. It was a happy sound, as though he took Arthur's words for a compliment. He most likely did. "And you're warm."

"Sorry," Arthur said. "I don't mean to be."

"It's alright. I can fix that." And making good his words, Merlin wrapped his arms more tightly around Arthur and squeezed him with a chilling embrace. An instant later and an icy breeze swirled through the window with a flutter of snowflakes, spreading the curtains further to allow the coolness of night to sweep in more completely. Arthur felt another stronger shiver tremble across his skin, but he only squeezed Merlin back in turn all the harder.

Merlin wasn't human. That much Arthur knew, had grown to understand more completely. He didn't quite know what he was and Merlin hadn't been able to explain either – or perhaps he hadn't quite known himself; he certainly hadn't quite seemed to understand the question when Arthur had asked it of him two years before. He was a creature of winter, Winter incarnate, and he didn't age. He conjured snow with a flutter of his fingers and a golden glow of his eyes and he danced on the wind as though it were an ever-moving stage. More than that, however, he didn't quite act human. He was almost unshakeably happy, delighting in the little things that winter gifted, and seemed to heartily live for every moment. Arthur loved that about him. He so rarely grew angry or upset that it was a strange sight to see much of the time.

And yet at the same time there was something decidedly inhuman about him. Most significantly that Arthur could discern, he simply thought differently. Whether it was for the fact that he was as old as time itself, that he lived by and for the moment, or for some other reason, Arthur didn't know, but he noticed. One such thing he noticed was that Merlin – there were some things that Merlin didn't seem to understand, no matter how Arthur attempted to describe it.

He didn't understand why Summer had to exist at all, idly begrudging it no matter how Arthur attempted to explain seasons to him. Merlin didn't really understand the concept of time, either, and it had occurred to Arthur on more than one occasion that while the year seemed to draw endlessly for him between the times he last saw him, for Merlin it could pass as quickly as a blink of the eyes. And besides that…

Merlin didn't understand death. He'd never been repenting of the death of the boy Arthur had witnessed the first time he'd seen him, even if Arthur himself found he could never blame him for what had happened. He didn't even blink when Arthur had asked him some years ago if the snowstorm down south that had overturned that truck and killed the driver was his doing. He'd simply nodded, shrugged and said, "That was my storm, yes". They'd left it at that.

Arthur knew he probably should have been concerned for that fact. Horrified even, just as he should have been unnerved by Merlin's magical abilities. But he wasn't. He'd never been. Arthur sometimes wondered if that made him a little inhuman himself because really, what he cared the most for was quite simply… Merlin.

Breathing in the sharp, icy scent of him – if Winter could have a smell it would be that of Merlin – Arthur closed his eyes. "Were you waiting for me?" He asked.

Merlin hummed in reply, drawing his fingers up and down Arthur's back as though to chase away the warmth of his skin through his shirt. He was doing a good job of it, too. "Since you came, yeah."

"I'm so glad I conned Mum into letting me stay behind," Arthur murmured to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Arthur said with a shake of his head. He pressed another kiss on Merlin's cheek; he could swear he felt the heat seep from him with the touch. "Where have you been?"

"Hm?" Merlin asked, turning towards him and tilting his head curiously. "You mean before here?"

"Before here," Arthur confirmed. He'd years ago asked Merlin what he did when winter wasn't gripping the makeshift town and Merlin had merely blinked at him in confusion, uttering the words "What do you mean? Winter is always where I am." It took Arthur a moment to realise that Merlin didn't remain in the town throughout the entire year. That he truly did move with the winter, or perhaps that winter followed with him.

Such an understanding was one of several reasons that Arthur had put his urge to request of his parent that they move to Sweden out of his mind. It was certainly the primary one, for if Merlin wasn't here anyway then Arthur didn't want to be either. It was surprising that Merlin stayed in Sweden for as long as he did.

Merlin was frowning thoughtfully at Arthur's question, and Arthur couldn't help but plant another kiss on his lips as he did so. Really, an entire year without had made him as hungry as a starving man. "I'm not sure what it's called."

"Where was it?"

"Down?" Merlin said, more of a question than a confirmation. "And across?" He made a vague gesture in what Arthur discerned as a westerly direction.

"Norway, maybe?" Arthur asked.

Merlin only shrugged as though he didn't know for sure. He liked didn't. "I decided to come here early this year, though."

"Why?"

"Because you said you wanted to try something. It's exciting, of course."

Merlin spoke as though he were stating the obvious, a smile spreading across his lips as he in turn pressed a kiss on Arthur's. It was slow and deep and icy, and Arthur shivered for a mixture of cold and ardour.

Arthur was never sure how much Merlin was simply humouring him for his hugs and kisses. It was almost as though he'd never done either before himself, and though he offered as much readily enough, actively sought to engage in doing so on many occasions, Arthur was always left with the understanding that for Merlin at least it wasn't as particularly, achingly special as it was for Arthur. He tried not to feel disappointed for that.

His attempt at vanquishing that disappointment was made easier when, each time Merlin saw him now and had seen him for years, it was to dart towards him in a flying leap and wrap him in a hug, dropping a kiss on his cheek or his nose, his forehead or, more and more frequently, his lips. Arthur revelled for each and every touch, had grown to live for them and long for them in the long year he had to wait until the next winter holiday. He wanted to be with Merlin quite simply all the time, and that realisation had been accompanied by other wants.

Arthur had told Merlin the previous year, the night before he was due to leave, that he'd wanted to 'try something'. In reality, it was something Arthur had wanted to 'try' for years now; he'd only just plucked up the courage to ask Merlin a year before, a request of sorts only made slightly less awkward by the fact that Merlin apparently didn't know what he was talking about at all.

That he'd remembered Arthur's request, though… it made Arthur's gut roil in an entirely pleasant way.

"You want to, then?" Arthur asked, drawing away from Merlin slightly so as to better look him in the face.

Merlin smiled at him impishly. "I don't even know what it is, Arthur." The way he spoke suggested he didn't much care for the 'what', however. Merlin was always like that. He seemed incessantly enthusiastic to try anything novel and exciting.

Arthur bit back his embarrassment. Being apparently the more knowledgeable of the two of them, he would have to take the reins in this situation, even if his 'knowledge' was minimal at best. "I wanted to… I wanted to…"

Merlin laughed, a swirl of frozen breeze arising and swirling around the room alongside it. "Is it that hard to say?" He asked.

Arthur cringed slightly, dropping his forehead onto Merlin's shoulder. He could feel his flush dissipate into Merlin's cool skin, the iciness apparent through Merlin's thin jumper. "Surprisingly yes."

"Can you show me what it is, then?"

Slowly, Arthur raised his head. He turned his gaze towards Merlin and blinked at him mutely for a moment. "I…"

Merlin wore his curiosity and good-humour like a well-worn cloak. It painted his face so perfectly that even the sight of it eased some of Arthur's awkwardness. He shrugged as Arthur stuttered. "If it's too hard to explain then just show me. It's often easier to see than to hear anyway."

"You'd… you'd trust me with that?"

Merlin stared back at him, the smile unwavering upon his lips. "Of course I would. You trusted me when I asked you to follow me to the cliff, didn't you?"

That's something of a different thing, Arthur thought to himself, but he didn't say as much out loud. To Merlin, perhaps placing trust in another wasn't quite as significant as Arthur had perceived. He wondered at that; perhaps there was something to be said for such ready trust?

Slowly, Arthur nodded. "I can – I can try," he said, and felt himself shiver slightly once more. Not for the cold this time, however. Instead, it was sudden upwelling of nervous energy, of his own excitement, that flooded through him. He'd thought of doing just this, of doing it with Merlin, for years now, for almost as long as he'd realised the true nature of his feelings. Fuck, but he wanted him so badly. "Then just follow my lead?"

Merlin shrugged and nodded easily, smile widening. Arthur leant forwards for another brief kiss, pressing into Merlin with increasing depth and passion. He lost himself in his mouth as Merlin curled his arms around his neck and drew him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, was cold in a way that Arthur knew kisses weren't supposed to be but that he loved anyway.

Merlin didn't object when Arthur tugged at his jumper, raising it over his head. He adopted his curious expression once more, faintly confused, before Arthur was discarding his own shirt and something like understanding settled upon his features. Arthur paused only briefly to consider that. Maybe Merlin wasn't quite so oblivious after all.

Any such thought fled from him, however, with each article of clothing discarded. Arthur couldn't help but stare, drinking in ever inch of skin revealed. Merlin was long and skinny, Arthur had already known that, skin pale to the point of translucent, but Arthur hadn't really appreciated it until that moment. He drew his hands along every chilling inch of him, his fingers growing numb as they trailed across his waist, along his ribs, curving down the length of his arm and down across buttocks and thighs. Arthur didn't care about that numbness, though, and he didn't stop. He didn't think he could have even had he wanted to.

Merlin touched him just as much in turn. Every whisper of his long fingers across Arthur's skin left a trail of goosebumps in their wake, brushing across the fine hairs of Arthur's arms, of his chest and down his waist like the delicious kiss of an icy breeze. Arthur found himself gasping beneath it, every nerve ending made hypersensitive, and he didn't think it was only because of the cold.

Arthur lost himself in Merlin for a long time. Longer than he even realised, than he cared to consider. He peppered his skin with kisses that froze as soon as he withdrew his lips, huffed beneath those Merlin placed on him in turn as they stung delightfully and chillingly. Arthur had been on the tail end of his friends' descriptions of romantic encounters on more than one occasion but this… Arthur was sure that they'd never experienced anything like this. How could they?

Finally, when a brief touch of lucidity settled upon him, Arthur urged Merlin towards his bed. Merlin followed his direction readily enough, allowing himself to be urged onto the blankets and dragging Arthur after him. No, Merlin might not be familiar or even originally eager for touching, but there was nothing but enthusiasm in the way he wrapped his arms around Arthur and held him tightly against every inch of his icy body, sucking upon Arthur's lips and breathing cool breath into his lungs. Arthur knew breath wasn't supposed to feel like that, but he didn't care. He'd never been one much for having anyone puffing hot air into his ear anyway. This was different. This was so much better.

"I'm going to – I'm going to try something," Arthur managed to stutter into Merlin's lips. It was difficult to speak though Arthur wasn't sure if it was for the passion or the trembling cold that shook him.

"Mm," Merlin replied, for once rendered momentarily muted. He seemed perfectly happy to pepper kissed along Arthur's neck, across his shoulders as he raked his frozen fingers across every inch of skin that he could get his hands on. Arthur was perfectly content to allow him to do just that, had to struggle not to as he fumbled for the bottle he'd brought along with him that year, storing almost abashedly in the nightstand. It really was a struggle, a difficult fumble given Arthur's ignoring of the need to pull away from Merlin for even a second.

He somehow managed, uncapping the lid of the bottle and squirting a generous portion into his hand. Merlin paused in his distracted kissing to shift his attention momentarily towards him. "What's that?"

Arthur couldn't even find the headspace to feel embarrassed for the question as he shifted atop of Merlin once more. "I want to try something," was all he could manage.

"So you keep saying," Merlin said with a hint of laughter. He dropped his head back into the pillow and smiled up at Arthur, pressing a finger onto the tip of his nose in a familiar touch. "So try it."

"I just – I just don't want to hurt you," Arthur said. It was almost impossible to sit still, to not-touch as his fingers so desperately itched to. His blood was pounding audibly though his veins, his breath stuttering harder than it should be, and the warmth flooding his groin was almost painful for its intensity.

Merlin reached up towards him, curling a hand around the back of Arthur's head and pulling him towards him for another kiss. "I don't think you'll hurt me," he murmured against Arthur's lips.

Arthur's fingers curled into his hand, dampened by the lube cupped in his palm. "It just might feel a bit strange," he muttered in reply.

He felt more than saw Merlin shrug, shifting beneath him until the cool length of his body pressed more fully against Arthur's. "Strange can be good," he said. "Strange can be exciting."

Arthur couldn't help but smile at that. Strange can be good… Well, Merlin was very definitely strange and he was certainly the best thing that had even happened to Arthur.

With only a moment's pause longer for hesitancy, Arthur reached tentative fingers down between them. He paused for a moment, shifting to catch one of Merlin's legs and raising it to hip waist. Then, with a swallow because fuck, he was actually doing this, Arthur stroked a finger around his entrance for a moment before easing it in.

Merlin gasp was unlike any sound Arthur had ever heard, unlike anything he'd ever heard from Merlin. He was captivated for a moment, gaze spinning up towards Merlin to catch a glimpse of his eyes fluttered shut, his head tipped back slightly and his mouth fallen open as though in surprise. It was… Arthur felt himself grow harder just for the sight of it.

His fingers were freezing. Even inside of him there was nothing about Merlin that wasn't icily cold. As Arthur struggled with keeping his head, with working Merlin open with first one finger then another, it was to realise that. To blink with the unexpected realisation that liquid and ice didn't make a necessarily fluid combination and to reach for the bottle once more. Merlin moaned as he retracted his fingers, only to gasp once more, a hand reaching for Arthur to curl into his hair as Arthur pressed into him once more.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked. To his own ears his voice sounded distant, an echo of someone else's words and nearly overwhelmed by the pounding in his ears. The heat pooling between his legs, the tightness and the need, was almost unbearable.

Merlin rocked his head towards him, blinking hazy eyes open. It was an expression that Arthur had never seen before and one he doubted he would ever forget. Merlin huffed a gasping breath. "You're right. It does feel strange."

"Strange? Is that -?"

"It's a good kind of strange," Merlin supplied for him, and as if to emphasise his words he locked his hands into Arthur's hair once more, hooking his raised leg more tightly around Arthur's waist as though to draw him closer. Arthur almost groaned for the sheer weight of his words, once again when he twisted his fingers slightly and with a squeezing of muscles Merlin moaned.

He couldn't have waited much longer if he'd tried. Withdrawing his fingers – Arthur couldn't even feel them anymore for their numbness, but he didn't care – he scrambled for his nightstand once more, extracting a condom and fumbled with fingers suddenly too big and uncoordinated. He did manage, however, managed with a struggle, and grasping himself he paused only long enough to asked Merlin if he was alright.

Merlin only nodded fervently, adjusting his leg around Arthur's waist once more. It was all the permission that Arthur needed, and, lifting Merlin's hips, he leant into him. In a gasping, panting thrust, as slow as he could make it though a detached thought was worried that it wasn't slow enough, Arthur pressed himself into Merlin. The warbling cry that rose from Merlin's lips was entirely captivating.

This is it, Arthur thought hazily, blinking for clarity that wouldn't come as he awkwardly bent over Merlin to press a desperate kiss against his lips. He was cold, freezing, his breath uttered in a visible fog and his fingers having lost their feeling entirely. The tightness around his length was jarringly cold, but it felt so absolutely perfect that Arthur could only moan as he withdrew and thrust himself forwards once more. Merlin's uttered gasp, the claw-like grasp of his fingers that curled into Arthur's shoulders like frozen needles, was like music to his ears, a caress to his skin.

This. I could never want for anything else in the world if I have this. He fell into Merlin and lost himself in his frozen embrace.

Arthur didn't remember falling to sleep. He couldn't recall much after collapsing atop of Merlin, panting heavily and gasping in his release as he wrapped himself around him in a fierce, shivering embrace. Cleaning up had been distracted, half-hearted, and Arthur couldn't really remember much of that either.

In hindsight it was probably the cold that had made him so stupid. Not that Arthur cared.

His mother found him, checking in on him when they returned from dinner. Arthur woke to her cry of horror, the shaking of her too-hot hands upon his shoulders and the subsequent hysterical shrieks for his father of "Uther! God, Uther, something's wrong. Uther!"

The room was an icebox, snow seeping through the window and ice coating the walls. Arthur had likely only survived as long as he had for the blanket tucked around him, even if his skin was a patchwork of red and purple beneath. Arthur had to wonder if Merlin had been the one to wrap him so before he'd disappeared for Arthur certainly couldn't recall doing as much himself.

His mother was terrified and panicked, his father ridiculing him for his foolishness in his own expression of fear and Morgana shaking her head in bafflement and incredulity at her brother's idiocy. They'd all called him a fool with varying degrees of sincerity, and Arthur hadn't been allowed out of bed for days. It was only his persistent resistance to leaving that they remained at the town at all.

Arthur didn't care. He didn't care that his family was upset with him, even if he knew he should. He didn't care that he could barely move for days, that he only just regained a sharp, painful feeling to his fingers a full twenty-four hours after awakening to his mother's terrified cries. It had been the best moments of his life and Arthur would never regret it.

If anything, it only made him love the cold all the more.

A/N: Liking it? Don't? Have anything to say: questions, suggestions etc? Please leave a review to let me know your thoughts. It's really appreciated.

Also, I just wanted to say a thank you to Pompous Butterfly and Babilieboro who have already left reviews. Thanks, guys. It's always really great to hear your thoughts :)