Work Text:
The last time Santi could remember enjoying snowfall was as a teenager in the highlands of Argentina. His family had taken him on a hiking holiday near the Andes, and on one particular day when he was feeling his mood spiralling downwards and all he wanted was to be back home with his friends and where it was warm, his mother had taken it upon herself to start a snowball fight with her oldest son, which his father and siblings had gladly joined in on. They had pelted him with snow until his belly hurt from laughing and he had pleaded with them to stop.
He smiled at the memory whilst looking out at the snowfall that had rendered his day useless. The snow was falling heavily just as it had during the night, he could see from his vantage point in the bedroom window that the bottom half of his car tyres were hidden in the depth of the white stuff. Fortunately his early retirement meant he had no job to go to, and you worked from home so he was sure he could persuade you to take the day off.
Santi shivered, clad only in his boxers and turned from the window to see you watching him from the bed. You had the covers pulled up to your chin and you were curled up on your side trying to conserve the heat that was dwindling since Santi left the bed.
“Come back,” you demanded with a playful pout, turning onto your back to stretch out your limbs, immediately curling back up in regret as your legs touched the cold parts of the bed.
“It’s snowing,” Santi said excitedly, proceeding to climb under the covers and sit up against the headboard. You shuffled closer and lay your head in his lap, eyes closing shut as he rubbed a hand up and down your back. His actions were lulling you back to sleep.
“Wake up,” Santi grumbled, poking softly at your side, the tickling sensation making you squirm.
“Why are you being a child over snow?” You asked, feigning annoyance at his insistence.
“I never saw it much as a child,” Santi guided you to lie down against the pillow so he could prop himself up on his elbow and look down at you. “The real question is, why aren’t you excited for snow?”
You rolled your eyes and swiftly pressed a kiss to his chin. “It’s cold,” Santi made a face that said ‘duh’, “it’s wet and we’ll have to go out in it at some point to clear the driveway.”
“Well see it from my point of view,” Santi began, stroking softly at your cheek and slowly closing the distance between you, “you look so cute in your hat and scarf.” This earned him a shy giggle from you, which he swallowed up with a messy kiss.
Once you were both dressed and Santi had helped you pull on your hat, scarf and gloves, you were ready to face the snow.
“Ready, honey?” He asked, not giving you time to answer before he was pulling open the front door, the icy cold air biting at both of your faces instantly. Santi grabbed your hand and helped you down the step and into the snow that came nearly all the way up your boots.
“Won’t this hurt your knees?” You asked as a last ditch attempt to retreat back into the warmth of your shared house. But it was useless when Santi shook his head and guided you further down the path.
“Not if we’re quick,” he sang, his tone teasing and his hand squeezing yours. Once you reached the end of the driveway he handed you one of the spades he was carrying.
You both started clearing away the snow, heading in different directions until you reached the edge of your driveway. You were concentrating on tidying the heap of snow you had created when you felt something hit the back of your head. You gasped and spun around to see Santi still scraping the sidewalk of snow, failing to hide the smirk on his lips.
“You are the most immature man I’ve ever met, and I’ve met Benny,” you groaned half-heartedly and turned back to finish your job.
Something hit you again, and before you had the chance to turn to catch him in the act he was throwing another snowball, and another, and another, each one hitting their target; you.
You squealed at the assault and tried hurrying across the driveway towards the house for cover but the three feet of snow was slowing you down. Santi’s laughter was usually music to your ears but when you were being pelted with snowballs that he could throw hard you were determined to get your own back.
He paused in his throws, snowball in hand when you turned and glared at him. You remembered the spade still in your hand and knew exactly what you were going to do. Taking a couple of steps towards your boyfriend, you scooped up a heap of snow and manoeuvred it carefully so the spade was sitting on your shoulder. Santi’s eyes widened when he understood what you were about to do.
“Honey, now there’s no need to go over the top,” Santi warned, dropping his snowball and raising his hands in a mock surrender.
“You were always going to start a snowball fight weren’t you?” You accused him, a teasing glint in your eye as you took another step.
“Yes, you’ve got me, now put the spade down…”
“You’re a really bad loser,” and with that, you catapulted the snow on your spade perfectly, the heaping pile landing directly in Santi’s face. You laughed loudly at the sight so much so you ended up collapsing into the snow on your bum. Santi made his way over to you eventually, dragging you up out of the snow and holding you against his chest.
“You just wait until the boys get here,” he whispered low in your ear, “it’ll be four ex Delta Force soldiers against just you.” You tilted your head up at his warning and saw him wink deviously. You were screwed.