The song had been his idea.

It made his blood boil just thinking about it, and as his smug brother delighted in pointing out, he really needed to watch his blood pressure.

Snow Miser was always first, ever since they were kids. He was the first to be given his own lair, the first to be taught how to influence the weather.

He always was mother's favorite. It didn't help how Snow Miser loved reminding him that Mother Nature was only his mother by birth, and Heat Miser's by marriage. He'd picked on him for that before they even knew what a step-sibling was.

The song, however, was Heat Miser's. That's why his verses always sounded so much better. It was also why singing Snow Miser's inferior version in his home was strictly forbidden.

Of course, when was the last time Snow Miser had cared about what was technically allowed? Rules were for lesser individuals.

"I'm mister white Christmas, I'm mister snow; I'm mister icicle, I'm mister ten below~"

Smug, self-centered, arrogant-

"They call me Snow Miser; whatever I touch tends to freeze in my clutch-"

"E-nough!" Heat Miser snapped, finally pushed past his boiling point. "What did I tell you when I let you stay here? Hmm? Absolutely, under no circumstances, sing that song!"

Snow Miser leaned in close, grinned, took off his hat, and bowed. "-I'm too much!"

Were he a volcano, he would have erupted in that moment. He was close enough; his hair flared up and the room suddenly felt a lot hotter, the lava in the cavern's flowing stream almost overflowing. "What did I just say?"

"Temper, temper," Snow Miser chastised, though he was now focused more on fanning himself with one hand, tugging slightly at his collar. "I was just singing."

35° was far too cold for Heat Miser, but far too hot for Snow Miser. It had come to something of a compromise, not that Heat Miser had to like it- but for the sake of Snow Miser not turning into a puddle (though the idea was tempting), he'd iced over a small network of tunnels within his home, enough to keep him comfortable (and on the plane of the mortals).

Of course, that hadn't been enough for Snow Miser, oh no, not Mother's dearest little darling. No, he'd proceeded to ice over the entire damn cave, which had resulted in a volcanic eruption as Heat Miser tried to restore it to the way it had been without blowing too many fuses.

He had, in the end, managed to get everything back in a decent manner, but that didn't mean Snow Miser hadn't made every effort to piss him off in the meantime.

And now that he'd run out of other tactics, he was resorting to the old stand-bys.

"You weren't 'just' anything and you know it!" Heat Miser snapped. "Would it hurt you to go one day, just one day, without actively trying to ruin my peace?"

"Peace? What peace?" Snow Miser said almost haughtily. "You, dear Heat Miser, would find a way to be angry about Christmas."

"Christmas!" Heat Miser returned, admittedly rather bitterly. "I never cared for it."

"Exactly my point. You need to watch your blood pressure."

"Then stop singing!"

"And why, praytell, should I do that, step-brother?"

Heat Miser flat boiled over, his rage exploding like a grenade. "Why? Why? I'll tell you why, you ungrateful snow-loving jerk! Your home caves in because your little helpers didn't keep it maintained properly, and who takes you in? I do! And how do you repay me? By icing over my lava, keeping me up late with your ice sculpting, redecorating, interfering in my work, and, and..." By now his face was positively red (even more so than usual), and the last word, he snapped as if it was a truly vile sin. "Singing my song!"

Snow Miser didn't look quite as taken aback as Heat Miser might have hoped. Actually, he looked downright impenitent. He leaned back slightly, regarding his (step) brother with something caught perilously between consideration and bored disinterest. "Finished?"

"Yes." Heat Miser snapped, fully expecting a lame comeback about how he'd only taken in Snow Miser in the first place because Mother asked him to (which was not entirely true).

"Very well." Snow Miser said, smiling almost genuinely. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

For a few moments, it was all Heat Miser could do to gape. Finally, he managed to stammer, "you're welcome."

As Snow Miser turned away, walking back to the iced-over hall from whence he came, the hotheaded younger frowned. That was... an unexpected result, to say the least. Maybe his snowy step-brother wasn't all bad- he could remember times, once, when they'd gotten along well enough, even when one preferred hot coals to snow angels and the other would rather walk barefoot through a blizzard than relax in front of an open fire.

For the briefest of moments, he considered that maybe, maybe, they could even be friends.

Snow Miser's voice, floating down the hall, interrupted that thought: "I'm mister white Christmas, I'm mister snow..."

Then again, maybe he'd only said that because it was getting too hot in here for him. Typical.