The First One

Christmas Eve was tomorrow and Matthew was freaking out. He was as close to telling Gilbert of his origins and reason for staying as at the beginning of the month. Then there was the whole Gilbert problem in and of itself. Matthew's heart was set into a flutter every time the albino was near, not to mention he blushed candy-cane red, too. He grew more comfortable around the naughty man, and he found that Gilbert wasn't all that bad, often times he found himself snuggled up next Gilbert with the albino snuggled up right back. Matthew was sure now that this was the man he really did want as a missus. The young Santa also wondered if their relationship would ever be similar to his parents'. Though, firstly, Matthew had to actually tell Gilbert that he was from the North Pole, and that he was taking over the family business.

Currently, all four members of the house were sitting around the television, watching a holiday movie that Feliciano insisted on watching, while they finished eating their lunch. Gilbert got up to put away his plate and Matthew followed seconds after, each entering the kitchen one after the other. When they exited, they exited side-by-side, bumping each other's shoulders. It was then that Feliciano called over, "Ve~, you have to kiss now! You're under the mistletoe!" The Italian gave the two his full attention, smiling brightly, while Ludwig pretended to not be interested, but a smirk made its way onto his face.

Matthew looked up and blushed at the sight of the mistletoe (why did they put it there?), and, looking at Gilbert, he saw that he was also pinked. Feliciano egged them on. "Kiss, kiss, kiss," he chanted in an overly childish voice, trying to sound like the innocent person he wasn't. The pair looked at each other, red gracing their cheeks. How more embarrassing could this situation be?

The two subjected to their fate and leaned in, nervous smiles sprawled across their faces. After a few moments of hovering and Feliciano's eternal chanting, Gilbert gulped and quickly closed the distance. Their lips met for just a fleeting second, yet it must have been the longest second in the whole entire world. Matthew definitely had gingerbread men running around in his tummy. Gilbert for sure had the insane idea of maybe one day kissingMatthewagain. Alas, the small peck to the lips was over before they knew it and the albino booked it to the couch. Matthew was left in the kitchen doorway, feeling as if he would die from the amount of blood rushing to his head. Gilbert was in the same state as the young Santa, trying to calm his blush while Ludwig was trying not to laugh at him. Feliciano was doing a little victory dance, ecstatic that he got two of his favorite people in the world to kiss. Matthew made his way over to the couch slowly. He was touching his still tingling lips daintily as if pressing harder might make the magic of the memory disappear.

That was his first kiss.

Matthew sat on the couch, once again keeping his distance from Gilbert, trying to tame his blush. Feliciano settled from his victory dance and it was quiet in the apartment once again, save for the TV. After a few seconds, Feliciano spoke up. "Ve~, so sad that you have to leave later today, right Matthew?" Matthew nodded quietly while Gilbert shot up giving Feliciano a questioning look. Feliciano explained, "Well, Santa has to go home to the North Pole to get ready for Christmas. Gifts don't deliver themselves, you know."

Gilbert did not want to see Matthew leave and, while not believing Matthew and his origins, he questioned Matt where he was actually going. Because Santa does not exist, according to Gilbert. "Whoa, Birdie, you never said you were leaving so soon. Where are you actually going? I don't want to see a guy like you back on the streets." Gilbert looked slightly worried with agitation written all over his face.

Matthew replied, albeit nervously, "Well, I've got to go home, Gilbert. Christmas is in two days. I've got to help my dad. I leave tonight." Matthew fiddled with something in his pocket, not taking it out. He refused to meet the albino's eyes, the ones that were currently burning holes into his head.

Gilbert said angrily, "And just where is that? Where is home? Aren't you from Canada? Across the border?" Gilbert crossed his arms, glaring at the young Santa. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he didn't want to be away from the man he had just kissed. It went beyond the tiny crush he felt for Matthew and that scared him; Matthew was supposed to be a passer-by hobo, not someone who he got close to, much less have a tiny crush on.

Feliciano spoke up yet again, "You're silly, Gilbert. His home is the North Pole; Santa's Workshop, to be exact, ve. The North Pole isn't in Canada. Wait, is it? Uh…" The Italian trailed off, a confused smile plastered to his face as he tried figured out what country the North Pole was in. "Besides, Sant—Matthew can get there by magic, ve~. Right?" He turned to look at the quiet blonde for affirmation.

"Yes, Feliciano," Matthew muttered quietly, not liking the expression that was forming on Gilbert's face. In truth, Matthew could have gone home anytime he wanted; he knew it and his father knew it—finding a missus wasn't a punishment and if you felt you weren't ready, you could return. It was his choice whether or not to return, and Matthew chose to stay to get to know Gilbert better.

The albino was boiling over with frustration. "Santa Claus isn't real, Feliciano," he snapped. "He's just a fat man made by companies like mine to sell more crap people don't need to make more money. Matthew isn't Santa, either. He's a hobo I picked up at the park and will never be more than a bum that pretends to be Santa." Gilbert glared at the blonde. "And Matthew, you aren't Santa, nor will you ever be, and you shouldn't lead spoiled children on, pedo. You came into my house and made it a wonderland of crap after I made it clear we do not celebrate the damn holiday." Throughout this, Gilbert had stood, yelling out his accusations and by now Feliciano was crying and Matthew was biting his lip. Ludwig remained silent, choosing not to take part.

He called me a pedophile, Matthew thought incredulously. He said I would never be Santa. Why did fate hate him so much? What did he do wrong to make Gilbert hate the one holiday that described his entire being? The young Santa felt anger building, all pointed to the naughty man. "You Grinch," he accused. "Clearly, your heart is two sizes too small. I am Santa. Well, almost a Santa," he amended, thinking of his father. "I am not a figgy-pudding pedophile; Rudolph forbid that! Just what made you hate Christmas so much? Did my father run over your grandmother? Scratch that; my father or grandfather would never be so cruel." Matthew glared at the albino, crossing his arms.

"If you're fucking Santa, then why are you here? What's in New York for you? Please, enlighten me." Gilbert's eyes held great distrust as he frowned at the young Santa. He was fed up with the blonde's odd answers, wanting something realistic as an answer, even if it was a lie. Yes, he didn't care for the blonde's origins in the beginning, but he didn't think a cute guy such as Matthew could be batshit crazy.

"I-I'm looking for someone," Matthew apprehensively replied, not wanting to actually tell the angry albino that the someone was him. "I found them, but they probably won't be willing to be a friend…" He looked down, saddened that his Mrs. Claus probably will never be a friend any longer, even with Matthew's massive crush on him. "I didn't want to, but I'll have to go home without them." Upon seeing Feliciano's questioning look, the young Santa briefly forgot the angry man and oinked, explaining to the Italian, "I was sent to look for a Mrs. Claus, Feli." Feliciano nodded, a small smile coming to his lips, but it was quickly lost as Gilbert spoke once again.

"Oh, to hell with this Santa act! You aren't a magical fat man; he doesn't exist. I feel sorry to the mother who birthed you, hobo! She had a crazy son. And of course they wouldn't want to be a friend to someone like you! They wouldn't want anything to do with you!" Gilbert was seething with anger, frustration emanating off him, making everyone flinch back, including Ludwig.

It was silent for a few moments and Matthew wondered what had happened to the good afternoon. Why did Feliciano bring up the fact that he was leaving tonight? Matthew had been planning on telling Gilbert later today he was, and that the albino should go with him, slowly breaking in the "unbelievable" truth. No, it had ended up like this and his supposedly most trusted friend/possible love of his life was yelling at him about how Matthew shouldn't even exist and that he felt sorry for a woman who didn't even birth the blonde; he was made of magic after all, born of the New Year. The young Santa felt himself tear up. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It just wasn't.

"Get out," Gilbert finally growled.


"I said get out. This home doesn't need your stupid, unawesome Christmas cheer." Gilbert refused to look at Matthew, not having the heart to say it to his face. He just couldn't handle it! His whole life he was told that Father Christmas did not exist! Now here was an adorable person claiming to be the fat guy himself! Maybe he did have the heart of the Grinch.

"O-okay," Matthew said, shakily, quickly standing and bolting out the door before anyone could see his tears. All three stared out the door in the blonde's wake, wide eyed.

Feliciano was first to make a move, standing quickly and dashing after Matthew. He stood in the hall looking both ways for the young Santa, one was a dead end, empty, and the other way was person-less, two, neither of the elevators showing they were in use.

He was gone.

It was an hour before Santa Claus had to leave for his one-night-a-year job, and Dan couldn't focus on being jolly. His son had come home suddenly yesterday and promptly ran to his room, where he had locked himself in. Both Santa and Mrs. Claus had tried to get him out and talk to him, but he remained stubborn. Heat blister, even the elves tried talking to him!

It was the next morning when Matthew had left his room, eyes rimmed red from crying. He had quickly set to work on last minute gifts, not eating the entire day. Everyone in the workshop was worried for him but all left him his space. Christmas Eve was quiet in the workshop, Matthew's mood ruining everyone else's. Just what had happened with his missus? Frankly, even Dan didn't want to know.

Jumping slightly, Santa saw the last letter mailed to him float infront of his face. He usually never got letters this late, but to all his own. The name on the return address made him raise an eyebrow. This should be interesting. The letter did not even begin with the ever polite "Dear Santa Claus", instead it read:

So, uh, hi. You don't exist and I've never written one of these before, but I thought the awesome me should at least try. Here it goes:

Fictional fat man, I did something really stupid and I'm probably on the "Naughty List" for life and I just don't know what to do. Everyone is mad at me, even I am, which is unawesome. So I thought I should at least try asking you. The awesome me has never asked anything of you, so just this once, please… This Christmas I want a Birdie.

—the Awesome Gilbert

Santa laughed heartily, in the typical "ho, ho, ho" fashion, as he motioned the head elf, Tino over. Tino dropped what he was doing and walked over to his boss. Santa leaned in, whispering something into the elf's ear, of which the elf smiled excitedly and sprinted off to do his job.

Soon, a birdie and a Birdie were placed in the sleigh and Santa was on his way, though one of the birds screeched loudly, to which the jolly man chuckled. Santa went round the world before stopping in New York, going everywhere but one apartment. Finally, the jolly man entered the last apartment, bringing out the last two gifts.

One was set under the tree while the other kicked Santa in the shin. "Dad! Why did you practically kidnap me and take me…" Matthew looked around, recognizing his surroundings. He paled and backed away from his father, shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no. Take me home."

"I don't think so, son," Santa declined, placing a bow on the blonde's head. "You're someone's present this year." He winked, turning to check on the actual present underneath the Christmas tree. "Now be a good present and get under the tree, Matthew." His son pouted, making the man laugh loudly, which wasn't the best thing to do.

A loud thump came from Gilbert's bedroom and there was a sound of the door opening. There was a groggy groan of "Who's there?" Matthew's eyes widened as the albino stumbled half-asleep into the room. He was dressed in crumpled sweats and shirt for the cold winter night, his hair all askew and his eyes half open. It sent Matthew's heart aflutter and sent blood to his cheeks.

"D-dad! See what you've done," the young blonde accused, trying to stay focused on Santa rather that attractive man in the corner of his eye. He noticed that Gilbert seemed to awaken more at the sound of his voice. "Please, let's just go," he begged.

Santa just smiled kindly, patting his son on the head. "I'm a minute behind schedule, son, so count yourself lucky you're not getting a kid this year." With a wink, the magical man was gone, leaving his son and the naughty man alone in the apartment. Matthew glared at the space his father had just occupied, not looking towards Gilbert.

"M-Matthew?" Gilbert asked, incredulous. "W-what? He just—you just—Real?" The albino collapsed onto the couch, looking astonished. He had just seen Santa Claus pop out of his apartment leaving his son and… there was a present under the tree. Gilbert never received gifts.

The blonde clutched his arm with the opposite hand, squeezing slightly. "H-hi, Gilbert," he said, softly. "Merry Christmas." Matthew smiled meekly, trying to joke. After a few seconds, he sighed and joined the albino on the couch. He tugged the bow out of his hair and in the process yanked out some hair, yelping. They sat in an awkward silence as Gilbert collected his thoughts.

Two minutes later, the albino spoke up, making statements to organize his thoughts. "Santa is real." Matthew nodded. "You're his son." Another nod. "And what was this about kids and—and before you left you mentioned something about 'Mrs. Claus'. What was that about?" Gilbert turned to stare at Matthew, his red eyes staring at the way his blonde hair looked in the moonlight and how his cheeks darkened with a blush.

"Well, uh," the young Santa said, trying to explain. It came to pass that Matthew relayed the entire situation, his blush not once leaving his cheek as he explained the Mrs. Claus situation and the origins of a child, which described his own birth. Gilbert let him explain, for once staying quiet and open-minded about the entire holiday. "And that's it," Matthew concluded.

It was quiet two seconds before Gilbert smirked. "As awesome as that is, I don't think I could ever be a 'missus'," he said, winking, bringing a blush to the innocent blonde's face. The albino laughed, slinging his arms over the young Santa and bringing him close into a hug, to which Matthew returned. Pulling away, Gilbert glanced over to the tree, looking curiously at the gift underneath, like a child looking for the first time at all the presents Santa had left.

Matthew chuckled, smiling at Gilbert's newfound childishness. "Go ahead and open it, Gilbert," he encouraged. "Tino—that's the head elf—made it and bred it himself for you." He gave and reassuring push and Gilbert hesitantly walked over to the tree, picking up the gift and walked back to Matthew.

Slowly, he opened, taking great care in taking off the paper. The albino gasped and smiled when he saw it. In one of those old fashioned, bronze, ornate domed cages was a canary, a yellow one to be exact. Gilbert squealed in delight like a child and took the bird out of the cage, and, instead of flying away like one would expect, the bird stayed in his hand. "This is so awesome," the albino cried, youth seeping through his words. "You'll be Gilbird, okay buddy?" He told the bird, lifting his hand and gently placing the bird on his head. Gilbird chirped happily, snuggling into his owner's white hair.

"I take it you like him," Matthew asked, somewhat jokingly. Gilbert nodded, grabbing the blonde's hand, squeezing it in thanks. "That's good to hear." The young Santa smiled and, feeling bold, leaned over and pecked the happy albino on the lips.

"Merry Christmas, Gilbert."

"Merry Christmas, Birdie."

A/N: They had many happy Christmases after that as they struggled with falling in love and parenthood. :) The End.

I hoped you all liked it! This has been quite an experience for me: I wrote this in twelve/thirteen days! Wow. Y'know, except for chapter five. XD

Happy Rammahanukwanzmas! But since this is a Christmas fic, Merry Christmas! Unless you're atheist and reading this for the PruCan, have a great Tuesday. :D

Thank you for all the reviews/follows/favorties/what-ev-ver; I love you, too!