**SLASH**

Pickles/Toki, Pickles/Nathan, Skwisgaar/Toki
Pickles/Ofdensen, Skwisgaar/Pickles, Nathan/Toki
Ofdensen/Toki, Nathan/Skwisgaar, Pickles/Toki/Skwisgaar

**DISCLAIMER**

Don't own any characters. Merry Christmas & enjoy.
Reviews are love.

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Starstruck—Pickles/Toki][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

" 'Dis is a stupid idea." Pickles commented, watching as Toki placed the last of the ornaments on the Christmas tree.

"Why ams it so stupid?" he asked brightly, staring at the giant, glowing tree with pride in his eyes.

"I hate Christmas." the drummer said dully, crossing his arms over his chest. "S'stupid, if you ask me."

"It ams not so bad." Toki observed, poking at one of the red and black glass balls with a smile on his face. He had a look of almost childish delight on his face as he motioned over to a large box on the floor, where the star was kept. "Gets that for me, wills you? We can puts it up together."

Seeing the amazing wonderment in the Norwegian's pale eyes was enough to make him go over, open the box, and pull the star out of it. He walked back to where Toki was standing and passed it to him. "You can put it an if you want."

"But it ams so high..." his pale eyes flickered up to the top of the giant tree and he frowned.

" 'Dat's why you gatta do it, dude." Pickles said, giving him a smart little smirk. "You're taller'n me."

"Fines. Wills you help?"

"Yeah, I guess." he answered with a heavy sigh. "Let's do 'dis." In a moment he was standing behind Toki, his arms outstretched as the Norwegian fearlessly jumped up and tried to place the star on top of the tree. "Don't break anything." he said, catching the guitarist as he stumbled and fell back.

"I knows, I knows! I can dos it!" he retorted, stretching up so much that his shirt rode up, exposing part of his flat, muscular stomach. Pickles placed a hand on his lower back and pushed him up a little; in a moment Toki had placed the star on top and was tripping back into the drummer's open arms, laughing. "See?" he said, sitting up confidently. "I tolds you I could-"

"You're shirt." he said, indicating the Norwegian's top, which was now rolled up a little. Toki blushed a little at the exposed skin. "Look, I gat it." he said, pulling it down and grinning. "You're shy when you wanna be."

"Ja, well..." his voice trailed off and he rolled off of the drummer, clearly still embarrassed for some reason. "Thanks for helpings me with the tree. Christmas ams pretty fun, huh?"

"Only when it's with you." Pickles replied, sitting up and staring up at the Christmas tree. "We did a good jab, huh?"

"Ja, we dids." and Toki made a move to get up, but the drummer pulled him back into his lap. The guitarist chuckled and put some of his hair behind his ears. "Pickle, what ams you doing?"

"I told you to be careful," he said playfully, sneaking his hand up Toki's shirt and feeling the warm, bare skin that was beneath. "I told you nat to fall."

"You never saids not to fall." he pointed out, smiling deviously at him. "You saids not to brake nothings."

"Same thing." he said, shrugging off the question. "Just a different phrasing. Come'mere." he pulled Toki into a hug and planted a kiss on his forehead. The guitarist pulled away, blushing madly.

"What ams you doing? We can'ts do this, not here!"

"Then where're we gonna do it at?" he inquired, leaning closer to the Norwegian and parting his lips. "Come an, just one kiss right here, right now."

"What if someone sees?"

"Then I'll kick their ass if 'dey tell anyone."

A small smirk spread across Toki's face as he relaxed in the drummer's arms. He let Pickles kiss him, let the other man's hips grind against his. "You like this?" the drummer whispered, forcing Toki down onto the cold stone floor and kissing him deeply.

"Umm-hmm." he said, moaning as their hips came into contact again. "It ams nice—almost as nice as that tree we puts together."

Pickles laughed and kissed his cheek. "Yeah, almost as nice as 'dat stupid, fuckin' tree?" and his green eyes stole a quick glance at the tree's flashing red and black lights. "Maybe even better.

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Christmas Spirit—Pickles/Nathan][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

"I need...get me another drink, dude." Pickles slurred as he held out his cup. Nathan arched a brow and held the bottle of booze close to him.

"No way. We have to record tomorrow and I don't want you to have a fucking hangover, dildo."

"Why d'ya care f'I gat a damn hangover or nat?" he demanded, trying to snatch the booze away from the singer. "S'my life and my Christmas! Jus' c'man an' let me get drunk!"

"No!"

"It's Christmas! What 'bout what I want?"

Nathan narrowed his eyes at him and growled, "To hell with what you want! Just because it's Christmas doesn't mean that-"

"Fuck you!" Pickles cried, throwing down his cup. Nathan sighed and his hard glare became a bit softer as he passed the bottle of alcohol over to the drummer.

"Fine, just take it. It is Christmas, I guess."

"Th-Thanks, dude. I love ya." he pressed the bottle straight to his lips and drank down a large sip before wiping his mouth and handing it back to Nathan. " 'Dere y'go, now you can get drunk an' we can have a good fuckin' time."

"You're an idiot." he said in his deep, growling voice. Still, he accepted the alcohol from the drummer and drank down the rest of it before laying his head on the table. His mind was swimming, his vision clouding as Pickles reached over and draped an arm over the his broad shoulders.

He pulled Nathan closer and whispered in his ear, "Love ya, dude, I really do."

"Uh-huh." he said, feeling the stinging of the alcohol at the back of his throat. Whenever Pickles leaned close to him and spoke, he could smell the strong stench of the booze on his breath. Normally it was always there lingering in the back of the drummer's mouth, but now it was so prominent that it made his eyes water. "Pickles, you're—I think you're drunk."

"Yeah, I think 'dat I'm a little fuckin' hammered...you are too, though..."

"Yeah..." his voice trailed off as he glanced over and saw Pickles licking his lips again, still savoring the flavor of the alcohol. Nathan reached over and awkwardly pressed a hand to the drummer's cheek. Pickles said noting as the other man leaned forward and carefully kissed his cheek. "That stuff tastes sweet," he said in his deeply, his voice slurred. "that booze...I want more."

" 'Kay." he said, making a move to rise to his feet. "I can get s'more if you want. I can-"

"No, I mean more." and Nathan pulled Pickles' arm, brought him down into his lap. He pressed a hand to the front of the drummer's pants and laughed when the other man became tense in his arms. "I want so much more."

"N-Nathan," he rasped, trying to pull away. "You're too drunk. Lemme go, 'kay? We'll do 'dis again, on'y when you're sober, alright?"

"Fuck no," he said sternly. "You're mine now."

"You're hurtin' me!" The singer didn't release him or heed his cry of pain, only held him closer and buried his face in the drummer's hair.

"I wanna taste you." he said, his voice slurred. Roughly he rubbed the drummer's quickly hardening cock and laughed. Thoughtlessly, he molded his lips to Pickles', kissed him so deeply that he moaned and opened his mouth, let Nathan's tongue enter his mouth. "You taste sweet," he said, pulling away and stroking the other man's erection harder. "Like the booze."

"Good?"

"Yeah," he breathed harshly. "Fucking amazing."

"You want more? Huh?" he pressed his hips closer to Nathan's and moaned. "Like 'dat?"

"Yeah," he said deeply, continuing to stroke him. "just like that."

"S'good thing it's Christmas, huh? Otherwise we'd never..."

"Yeah." he said, grinning. "Good thing."

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Christmas Copier—Skwisgaar/Toki][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

"Comes on, Toki! Leaves me alone!" Skwisgaar warned as the Norwegian placed a Santa hat on the top of his blond head. "Fucks off! You know I hates Christmas!"

"Why? It ams fun!" he exclaimed joyously, dancing annoyingly around the Swede. "You gets to throw snows at people and buy them presents ands-"

"Would you just shuts up? God, you ammnest sos immature!" he ripped the hat off of his head and threw it to the ground. "Christmas ammnest stupids, so leaves me outs of it!"

Toki stopped his dancing around and put his hands on his hips. He gave the Swede a mischievous smirk and repeated, mocking the other man's voice, "Christmas ammnest stupids, so leaves me outs of it!"

Skwisgaar gave him a deadly look. "Don't you dare starts that!"

"Start whats?" he asked, his evil smile growing. "I'm not startings anything."

"You better nots, or-"

"You better nots, or..." Toki repeated, laughing madly. The Swede let out an angry yell and tried to hit him, but missed.

"You better stops copies me, or-"

"You'd better stop copies me!"

"You ams the one who copies me!" Skwisgaar yelled, trying to hit Toki again; the Norwegian agilely jumped out of his grasp and chuckled.

"No, you ams one who copies me!"

"Stops copies me!" they both said together. Skwisgaar stared at Toki for a long moment before bolting after him. He chased him thru every downstairs room of the Mordhaus, until they were back in the Christmasy living room. Then Toki stopped and jumped on the couch, panting.

"You...you gots stops copies me!"

"No, Toki, you stops copies me!"

"But you ams the one who-"

"I'll kills you!" he said, tackling the Norwegian into the soft sofa. Skwisgaar threw him onto the ground then climbed on top of him, smiling victoriously. "I...I tolds you I'd kills you if you didn't-"

"Stop copies me." he challenged.

"No, you stops copies me." and Skwisgaar struggled to keep Toki on the floor; the Norwegian kicked and hit him, tried as hard as he could to get away. Finally he ended up taking a handful of the guitarist's blond hair and tugging; Skwisgaar let out a pained yelp, but didn't let him go. Instead he took a bunch of Toki's long hair and did the same.

"Ow! You stop copies m-"

"Fucks you!"

"Fucks you too, then." he said, never giving up in his effort to win their little game. Skwisgaar grinned wickedly and leaned closer to Toki.

"Fucks you, littles Toki."

"Stop copies me." was his response as he managed to get out from under the other man and climb on top of him. Once Toki was sitting on Skwisgaar's flat stomach, he let out a triumphant yell. "You stops copies me now?"

"No, you stop copies me." he insisted, pushing Toki off of him. The Swede hauled the Norwegian to his feet and pinned him against the wall. "You really wants to plays this game?"

"Ja, maybes I do if yous do."

"Fines, then." and he molded his lips against Toki's and kissed him passionately before panting, "You wills stops copies me."

"No, you wills stops copies me." he retorted, flattening his back against the wall.

"You thinks so?"

"Ja, what ifs I do?" he inquired, arching a brow and smiling in his sweet, boyish way. "What ams you going to dos abouts it?"

"This." he took off his shirt and said slyly, "Stop copies me, my Tokis."

The Norwegian didn't hesitate to mimic the Swede and remove his shirt as well. Once he had, he mocked, "As soon as you stops copies me, my Skwisgaar."

He let out a laugh and pressed so close to the Norwegian; a surprised gasp escaped Toki's lips."Gos ahead and copies me," the Swede challenged. "I dares you." another kiss and Toki was moaning, letting Skwisgaar wrap his arms around his waist and pull him closer. "You likes copings me now?"

"Only if you likes it." he replied, panting. Skwisgaar nodded.

"Ja, I likes it—loves it, actually. Comes here, now." he kissed Toki's neck, his bare shoulders, and his jaw, laughing when he felt the Norwegian trying to do the same to him. Finally he felt what he wanted to feel—Toki, clawing at his belt, trying to unzip his pants. As soon as he felt the other man doing this, he pushed him away and said smartly, "I wons."

"What? Nos you didn't! I never copies you, you copies me!"

"Looks." Skwisgaar glanced down at his unbuckled belt and gave Toki a smug smile. "I never touches your belt; you lose."

He rolled his eyes and spat, "Nos fair!"

"No, it ammnest fair. And since you lose, you gots to do sometings for me."

"Fine." he said, looking quite defeated. "What do you wants?"

Skwisgaar's eyes traveled down to Toki's pants as he purred, "What don'ts I want from you? Let's go upstairs." he took the Norwegian's hand and don't even bother to buckle his belt back up. Before he left the living room, he did stop and put the Santa hat back on his head. "Consider this your early Christmas presents, Toki."

"Wills I likes it?"

He nodded and kissed him once more. "Oh, I thinks you'll loves it."

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Christmas Wish—Pickles/Ofdensen][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

"Pickles, wait! I'm sorr-"

"Fuck you." the drummer said as trying to hide the hurt in his voice; Ofdensen walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Pickles," he tried again. "I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to offend you, I just..."

"You called me fuckin' trash in front of everyone." Pickles muttered, hugging his knees and letting his head fall into his arms. "Why the fuck would you do 'dat to me?" his voice was muffled, pained. A look of sadness came across Charles' face as he sat down next to the drummer and draped an arm over his thin shoulders.

"Do you want to-"

"No, just fuck aff."

"I could make it better." he said, letting his arm fall lower; his hand traveled down to the small of Pickles' back and rested there. "Like I always do."

"You always make everythin' worse." he said, looking up and meeting Ofdensen's gaze. " 'Cause I'm nat Toki or Skwisgaar; I'm nat your fuckin' bread and butter or nothin'. I'm just..." his voice trailed off and he looked away, his brilliantly green eyes filling with tears.

Charles looked solemn as he pressed his cheek against the drummer's. "I'm sorry. It's Christmas—you know how stressed out all of this holiday business is making me...there's the new album to produce, and...you know, don't you? What I said, I didn't mean it. It just slipped, like a joke. I'm sorry. I didn't honestly mean for it to hurt you like this."

"Everyone my whole life's called me trash." he said, his voice quaking with raw emotion as he leaned against Ofdensen's shoulder. "I just figured 'dat you would be different, that's all. I thought you knew how I really was. I thought you could see past all that bullshit that I throw out."

"I thought I could, too." he said soothingly, pulling Pickles into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry."

"You ruined my Christmas." he said, finally letting the tears begin to freely flow. There weren't many people who had ever seen him cry—nobody in the band other than Ofdensen. He trusted him, always turned to him when he needed anything, and Charles would oblige and give him everything he could in return. Pickles had only ever shown his other, more human side to his manager. Ofdensen was the only person he really trusted in the world. "I love you, dude. I wouldn't ruin your Christmas."

"Pickles, I...I can't believe I said what I did. I'm sorry."

"S'fine, I guess. You can't take it back, anyway. Just forget it."

"But I can't just let it go."

"Try to. Don't ever bring it up again."

Ofdensen frowned and looked away, clearly ashamed with himself. "Fine, but at least let me make it up to you. You deserve that."

"Whatever." he said, wiping his nose and sniffling.

"Okay. Hold on. I've got just the thing." and he got up, went over to his desk, and dug around for a moment. Pickles arched a brow.

"What're you doin'?"

"I had bought it for you for Christmas, but...ah, here it is!" he brought out a bottle of expensive wine and placed it on his office desk. He brought out two glasses. "Wine from the vineyards of Italy, a gift from our last tour. Do you remember?"

"Course I remember Venice." he wiped his tears on his shirt and accepted the glass of wine Ofdensen poured him. "Thanks, dude."

"Merry Christmas, Pickles." and before he took a drink from his own glass, he allowed a small smile to creep across his usually serious face. "Any early Christmas wishes?"

He thought then shook his head. "Nope, already gat everything I need." and he downed his wine without a second thought.

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][The Worst Gift—Skwisgaar/Pickles][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

"What ammnest you mean you hates my gift?" Skwisgaar asked Pickles indignantly, crossing his arms over his thin chest in a display of angry defiance.

"Whadda want me to say?" he asked, snickering. "It sucked. I mean, seriously? You gat me a fuckin' scarf."

"Ja, a green ones with them littles four-leaf things ons it!"

"Wow, clovers." he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'dat makes everything better."

Skwisgaar's normally fair skin turned a bright red as he spat, "Well you ammnest Irish, rights?"

"Irish-American, but what kinda gift is a fuckin' scarf?" as if to prove this, he grabbed the box where he had thrown the thing and held it up to the Swede. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Wears it!"

"You know I don't wear any of 'dat crap! Take it back and return it or somethin'!" he said, throwing the scarf at Skwisgaar. "I don't need it."

"Fucks you! Your gift wasn't any betters!" he said defensively. "What ams I supposed to do with a fuckings-"

"It was a good present, dude! I put a latta thought into it!"

"And I puts a lot of thought into that scarfs!" he argued.

"So what? I don't even know how to wear it, and why does it gatta be green?" Pickels asked. "It don't even match my hair! It makes me look like a fuckin' weirdo or something..."

Skwisgaar snatched the scarf and looped it around his own neck. "Well I thinks that it makes you looks fuckings hot."

The drummer arched a pierced brow. "What?"

"Ja, I saids it, okay? It makes you looks sexies, like I wants to just gets you alone and..." his voice trailed off and he smiled broadly. "Why you cares what I thinks of you?"

"Maybe I wanna know if you think I'm hot." he said, taking a step closer to the Swede. "And maybe I really like the stupid scarf, I just don't know how to wear the damn thing."

"Lets me show you, then." he pushed Pickles onto the couch behind him and then sat down in his lap.

"What're you—"

"Just shuts up, already." Skwisgaar interrupted, pulling his shirt over his head. "I wants to sees you wears it likes this." he took the scarf off of his own neck and looped it around Pickles', used it to pull him closer, so that their faces were less than an inch away. He closed his eyes, inhaled the drummer's scent, and grinned. "Ja, just likes this." he kissed him and let a moan slip past his lips as he tugged harder on the scarf, nearly making Pickles choke.

The drummer ended the kiss abruptly, panting and struggling to find breath. "Maybe the scarf's okay." he admitted. "Maybe I'll keep it around."

"For mes?"

"Yeah, for you."

"Goods." he took Pickles' hands and pressed them to his own bare chest, sighing under their warm touch. "I likes that abouts you—you ammnest so submissive tos me."

"Y'think?"

"Ja, likes when we kiss just now you gaves in and lets me dos what I wants tos you." Skwisgaar smiled again, exposing his perfectly straight, white teeth. He ran his tongue over his lips and said, "I likes fucking with yous likes 'dat."

"Then the scarf is definitely stayin'." he said, kissing the Swede's cheek. "And so am I."

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Mistletoe—Nathan/Toki][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

They were both walking under the one of the many decorated arches that were scattered about the interior of the Mordhaus, talking happily about the presents that would be under the tree tomorrow. Actually, Toki was the only excited one, and as he walked he took Nathan's hand and shouted, "You ams going to love what I gots you!"

"Yeah, sure I will." he growled, taking his hand out of the eager guitarist's reach and glaring down at the floor. "Christmas is so...ugh."

"Metals!"

"No, not metal. It's stupid."

Toki frowned as they walked. As they passed under an archway, he stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall and took Nathan's hand again. The singer turned around and sneered. "Why the fuck do you keep trying to hold my..." but the Norwegian wasn't even listening to him anymore. His gaze was focused up on the ceiling of the archway, to the little string of leaves that hung there, tied together by a festive red ribbon. Nathan's face fell and he cursed, tried to pull Toki away. "Come on, we don't need-"

"But it ams a tradition!" he said, tugging in the opposite direction, trying to make Nathan come closer. "Comes on, just a littles one!"

"Mistletoe is stupid! Let's juts-"

"Christmas ams stupid, mistletoe ams stupid...what else do you thinks ams stupid?" he asked, giving him a quizzical look. "Ams I stupid?"

Nathan shook his head. "Of course you're not, it's just that...I...we can't..." in his failing effort to explain himself, his pale face turned almost as red as the ribbon that strung together the mistletoe. Toki held his hand firmly and the look on his face became determined, unyielding.

"You don't likes me?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"We ams friends?"

He nodded, feeling himself begin to sweat. "Of course we are, Toki."

"Then kiss me." he said, closing his eyes and leaning forward. Nathan sighed and looked around, realizing that there was no avenue of escape. When he cast his gaze back to Toki, he realized that perhaps escape wasn't so necessary as he thought, because as the Norwegian stood there so innocently, his brown hair tucked carefully behind his ears and his hands behind his back, he looked almost like a blessing.

A long silence lingered between them before Nathan dared to squeeze Toki's hand and press his lips to his. It was a short kiss, but it made his heart melt. When it was over, the Norwegian worked up the confidence to bury his face in Nathan's chest in a sweet embrace and say quietly, "I wants you to warm me, never lets me go." he took Nathan's hand; his pale eyes met the other man's dark green ones as he pleaded, "Don't lets me go, please. Nots ever."

His smile grew and he lowered his head, letting his black hair drape over the Norwegian's shoulders. "Let me take care of you?"

"Whatever you wants." he answered, smiling up at him. "I'll be yours if you'll be mines."

Nathan just chuckled. "Don't be so gay, Toki." and he kissed the guitarist's cheek. "You know I've always been yours."

And they stood there in each other's arms, protecting one another from the rest of the stupid world. There was more silence and more kissing, but it all paled in the presence of that silently hanging, seemingly so innocent mistletoe.

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Holy Night—Ofdensen/Toki][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

"I don't gets it," Toki remarked, staring at the crucifix that was hung above Ofdensen's office desk. Charles arched a brow.

"What don't you get?"

"What ams that? A dead guy on a cross?"

He frowned. "That's Jesus Christ, Toki. Haven't you ever heard of him—the Bible?"

The Norwegian's eyes shined in recognition. "Oh ja, that book that tells you what ams right and wrong!"

"Yes, in a way." and he laced his fingers together and smiled at the guitarist. "That's what Christmas is about, whether or not you've been doing something right or wrong."

"Well what ams wrong? I'm nots good, so what ams wrong?"

"Wrong...hmm..." he paused in thought and finally came up with, "Lying."

"Lying ams wrong?"

Ofdensen nodded. "Yes, and so is-"

"Oh, I gets it! Things like what ams not good or natural, right?"

Another nod. "Correct."

Toki smiled and bit his lower lip shyly. "So something likes when you ams with another guy and you lets him..."

"Toki, what are talking about?" he asked, straightening his tie distractedly. The Norwegian leaned forward over his desk and seized Ofdensen's hand, ran a thumb along the palm.

"Something likes this?"

He remained oddly calm and said, "No, Toki. That's not wrong for some people. Some people are meant to do those things to people that are like them."

"Sos I can likes it and it won't makes me get nothing for Christmas? I'll still gets something?"

Ofdensen met his pale gaze. "No, it won't keep you from getting presents." he whispered quietly. "Not if you like it."

"Whats if I likes it a lot?"

"Then maybe I should help you work out your feelings." he said, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. When Toki gave him a confused look, he took the Norwegian's hand in his and kissed his fingertips lightly, brushed his lips against his hand. "Anything clearer?"

"Startings to get that ways, I guess. It sure would helps if you woulds tell me what you're gettings me for Christmas, though." he gave Ofdensen an irresistibly adorable, innocent look and said, "I woulds really likes that."

Charles laughed and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Nice try, but no. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to open up your presents."

"Aww, but can'ts I at least unwraps one?"

"Sorry, but Christmas is tomorrow and everyone else has to wait. So do you." he ran a hand thru Toki's long, brown hair and rested his forehead against his. "I really do hope I made things a little clearer for you, though. That's my job, after all."

"If it wasn't your job woulds you stills dos it?"

"Of course."

"Then that ams good enough for me." and he kissed Ofdensen's cheek tenderly. "Maybes now you can helps me gets clearer abouts other things?"

"Like what?"

"Just gives me a few minutes alones with you and you'll see."

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Snow Angel—Nathan/Skwisgaar][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

Nathan watched as Skwisgaar stood out in the snow; the Swede loved the snow. It reminded him of the holidays back in Sweden. He missed them so much sometimes that all he could bring himself to do was go outside into the cold without a jacket or gloves, and stand in the snow, let it coat him. Nathan loved to watch him do this, loved to watch the snow fall into the Swede's long, lavish blond hair. He looked like something from Heaven, a blessing on Earth.

Now, as he watched Skwisgaar stand there looking up at the gray clouds, he felt a sudden urge to go over and meet him, so he did. The Swede didn't even notice him approaching until Nathan slipped an arm around his waist. "Hey, Skwisgaar."

"Hey, Nathans. You founds me."

"Yeah, I did. You want me to leave?"

"Nos." he took Nathan's hand and smiled over at him. "Stays with me." he leaned against the other man's shoulder and sighed. "You ammnest perfect."

"We're perfect." he said, tugging suggestively at the Swede's belt. "Imagine how well we'd-"

"I ammnest sos fuckings cold." he whispered, looping his arms around Nathan's neck and looking into his eyes. Slowly their lips met, sending both of their hearts into an insane spiral into nowhere, making them thaw out and melt into liquid fire; that warm feeling spread thru them, all the way to their hips, made them begin to moan and pant and give into whatever the other wanted.

"I'll goes up to your room with you." he said, wrapping a leg around Nathan's hips, letting him feel the pulsing erection that was pressing against his jeans. "And we can fucks."

"Fine." but before he took a step, he lightly brushed some of those white flecks of snow from Skwisgaar's hair. "My angel."

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][Merry Christmas—Pickles/Toki/Skwisgaar][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

"Do you thinks he'll likes it?" Toki asked Pickles, showing him the gift he planned to give Skwisgaar. The drummer nodded.

"Yeah, he'll fuckin' love it, dude."

"Goods, 'cause I works reallys hard to-" suddenly a knock came at the door of Pickels' room. Toki's pale eyes grew wide and he scrambled to hide the present.

"Go, go, go!" Pickles whispered as he got up and went to unlock the door. "Don't let him see it!"

Toki managed to throw the present under the drummer's bed just before Skwisgaar entered the room. "Oh, hey Tokis." and he turned his attention to Pickles. "Can I ask you something? It's abouts that gift I gots for-"

"We're busy." he interrupted, glancing over to the Norwegian. "Busy doin'...stuff."

"Wells your stuff cans wait. I'm more important."

"No you ams not! Pickle was talkings to me!"

"You cans wait." Skwisgaar snapped. "He likes me better anyways."

Toki hugged Pickles close. "Nos he doesn't! He likes me best!"

Skwisgaar seized the drummer's hand and squeezed it possessively. "Actually, I ammnest his favorite outs of the two of us—I'm everyone's favorite."

"No you're-"

"Dudes, chill out!" Pickles broke in, trying to give both of him the same amount of attention. "Look, I love both of you, so-"

"Loves?" Toki interrupted, turning red. "You loves me?"

"Well...yeah." he said, trying to play off this embarrassing admission. "I do, and I love Skwisgaar, too."

"Whos do you love more?" Skwisgaar demanded. "I bet it ams me, huh?"

"No, I like Toki more." he said, giving the Norwegian a sweet, loving little grin. " 'Cause he's cuter." and as if to prove how much he cared for him, Pickles leaned forward and kissed Toki right there, in front of Skwisgaar. He let his tongue enter the Norwegian's mouth and moaned as Toki received the kiss so willingly and gratefully, opening his mouth more and deepening the kiss.

Skwisgaar stood nearby watching it all with wide eyes, his normally pale cheeks ablaze with color. Finally he found his voice, pushed Toki away from Pickles, and hissed, "Nobody kisses my Tokis other than mes."

The Norwegian just arched a brow. "Skwisgaar, what ams you-"

"Comes here and let me show you what it feels likes to really kiss someones." and Toki melted into his arms; the Norwegian eagerly accepted his warm kiss. Pickles narrowed his eyes at the Swede and broke them apart. He pulled Toki into a possessive hug and brushed his lips across his cheek.

"Pickle?" he asked, his pale eyes full of affection and excitement. "What ams going on?"

"I dunno..." he breathed, glaring at Skwisgaar. "...you're mine." and that was all he knew, all he could think to say. He didn't know what to do when the Swede took a firm hold on his arm and pulled him closer. He grinned at the drummer, pressed a callused hand to his cheek.

"You kiss hims dildos."

"Yeah?" he asked, struggling for breath.

"Ja." he peered down at the bright-eyed Toki and asked, his voice a longing sigh, "Dids you likes kissing him mores than me?" he didn't say anything, Skwisgaar reached for Toki's belt and roughly unbuckled it. "Lets sees how much you likes it."

"Yes!" he finally admitted. "I loves it!"

"Huh." he chuckled and the hand that he had resting on Pickles' cheek traveled down to the drummer's arm. "Then you will loves to watch this, wonts you?" he molded his lips to Pickles' letting out a lustful moan. In a moment he had the drummer pressed flat against the wall with his tongue buried deep in his mouth.

"Skwisgaar!" Toki gasped, holding onto Pickles tightly, trying to somehow steal another kiss.

"What?" he asked, taking a step away from the drummer, his blue eyes blazing with passion. "You wants me to fucks with you toos?"

He nodded and let Skwisgaar wrap his arms around his waist and pull him close. "You really wants me to kiss you?"

Toki glanced back at Pickles, saw the tender, loving look that was blazing in his green eyes, and swallowed. "I loves you." he said softly, a smile on his face. "The way you looks at me—I loves it. Can you always looks at me like that?"

"If you want 'dat then come over here." he opened his arms and grinned. "C'man."

Toki cast a worried look over to Skwisgaar and kissed his cheek lightly, full of a gentle kind of care. "I loves you too, Skwisgaar. Merry Christmas."

"Ja," he said, running a hand thru the Norwegian's long, brown hair. "merrys Christmas."

[[]][[]][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][THE END—MERRY CHRISTMAS][[]] [[]][[]] [[]][[]][[]]

**A/N**

Is it disturbing that I thought of this while sleeping? Of course my 22-year-old sister and her 21-year-old friend were yelling and hitting me and trying to keep me up the whole time, but [-_-] ANYWAYS—I'm a fucking hard sleeper, so I managed to ignore them—I came up with this. I hope you enjoyed it and will review it, because reviews are love. Come on, it's Christmas. Just give me one little 'Good job,' or 'You suck'. I really don't care, just something would be good. ^_^

Peace, Love & Happy Holidays