A/N: Admittedly, this is being posted after Christmas, but I couldn't post it until the reveal of a secret santa I was in. Hope y'all enjoy it, irregardless of the passed season.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Newsies. Will never own it.

~*One week and three days before Christmas*~

"So, is no one really going home for Christmas?" Bumlets asked, tilting his head in slight confusion.

Everyone shook their heads— except David but he didn't count because he was Jewish, and shrugged.

"Well, we should do something and host it ourselves," he continued, smiling in anticipation at everyone.

"Yeah, sounds great!" Itey exclaimed, getting his notebook out and jotting down ideas.

"How about we just don't celebrate Christmas this year?" Skittery muttered to Race, loudly so everyone could hear it because Skittery was a passive aggressive bitch like that.

"You think you don't want to celebrate Christmas, but when the 25th comes and there's nothing to do, you'll wish you celebrated with us," Bumlets said, his tone more threatening than anything.

Skittery blinked. Racetrack blinked. Snitch, Itey, David, and Spot all blinked. Even Dutchy blinked, and he was dating Bumlets.

"Your boyfriend's scary," Snitch whispered to Dutchy, who nodded gravely but didn't say anything.

"Okay, so we're going to do a secret santa," Itey exclaimed, glaring at David's 'but I'm Jewish!'

"We're going to do a secret non-denominational gift exchange," Spot muttered, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at David, who reluctantly nodded.

"David, you can be in charge of that," Bumlets appointed.

David groaned, but nodded once more. Whatever, he could do that, he supposed. Even if he did abhor the holiday season like nothing else.

"Itey, Snitch, you guys are on decorations," Bumlets said, smiling at Itey's excited, 'sir, yes, sir!'

"Skittery, Racetrack, you guys, um…" he stopped and thought for a moment, "music and drinks."

"What are you going to do?" David asked, still slightly bitter.

"Dutchy and I are going to work on all the food. Along with Spot."

"What?" Spot gaped, looking up at Bumlets incredulously.

"Newest member of the group has to do grunt work," Bumlets stated primly, daring Spot to try and disagree.

"You don't want Spot in a kitchen," David suddenly piped up, shaking his head frantically.

"Why?" Bumlets asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You know the random fire that happened last semester in the dorms? That was Spot."

And with that, Bumlets froze before telling Spot to 'just help David with the gift exchange, yeah? Much better for all our health.' Spot nodded happily and settled back into the couch, smirking.

"Race, guess what? You're helping with food."

Race groaned but nodded, knowing that Skittery was the best with music and whatnot. So, fine, he had to help with the stupid food.

"I'll come over as well," Skittery mumbled, already going through his iTunes playlists, "just in case."

He had decided (with help from Bumlets' threat) that trying to enjoy Christmas would probably just be the best idea for him, really. Like, why not? He might actually have his first nice Christmas.

~*One week before Christmas*~

David had perfected the gift-exchange partners. It was a list decided carefully by: likes, dislikes, knowledge about the other person, etc., etc. It was a list of beauty, and it was David's baby, truly. (And that was the coffee kicking in, but he digressed.)

"So, I made the list," Spot stated, coming into the room and sitting down in the chair next to David's.

"No, I made the list," David retorted, handing his own list to Spot.

Spot looked it over, shaking his head and humming every once in awhile.

"I don't think that it'll work," he said, shrugging his shoulders and handing it back.

'What do you mean?" David hissed, glaring at Spot and holding his list protectively.

"Because, like, it's obvious. The whole point of a gift exchange is randomization. You don't know who you're going to get. If all these people get each other, it'll be obvious straight off who got the gift for whom."

David blinked, blinked once more, and stood up.

"I hate you and want you to die," he stated softly.

Nodding and walking out of the apartment, he crumpled his list up and threw it away.

Spot blinked and shrugged, emailing everyone with who they were going to gift to. Unknowingly, he started humming Christmas songs under his breath.

~*Six days before Christmas*~

"Don't you think all of this is a little much?" Snitch asked, moving through the boxes to get into their living room.

"Nope," Itey stated cheerfully, checking off things on a piece of paper.

Snitch's cell phone rang and he answered it, having a short conversation before turning to look at Itey.

"Snoddy can't get out of his bedroom," he muttered, pointing to the blockade of boxes that were covering the door.

"Sorry, Snoddy!" Itey exclaimed, moving boxes and generally just making even more of a mess.

Snitch sighed and flopped down onto the couch. God help him, truly.

~*Five days before Christmas*~

"What are you doing? It's 4am," Racetrack mumbled, yawning and sitting across from Skittery at the kitchen table.

"I'm perfecting the music and mixing drinks," Skittery replied, taking a sip of something before scratching it off a list.

"Can't you do that at a normal time when the damn music won't wake me up?" Racetrack asked, closing his eyes and slumping in his chair.

"We only have five days until Christmas, you know!" Skittery exclaimed, changing the song and nodding at the newer selection.

"You're obsessing," Race stated, nodding his head and standing up once more, "so I am going to go and sleep. You have fun with this, though, truly."

He shook his head at Skittery, who was mumbling mixes of drinks and crawled back into the covers, falling asleep once more. When he woke up at 10, Skittery was still up, looking more harried than before— which Race didn't know was possible.

"No Christmas for you unless you sleep," he stated seriously, shutting down Skittery's computer and putting the drinks away.

"I hate Christmas," was Skittery's only reply, falling asleep on the couch.

~*Four days until Christmas*~

Bumlets had all the food ready and waiting to go. Well, he had his lists and his non-perishables ready to go, at least. Everything else would have to wait until the day before, or the day of.

"Are you going to go to church Christmas Eve?" Dutchy asked, wrapping a present (a box, actually, because he wouldn't show Bumlets what it was.)

"Yeah, probably," Bumlets replied, feeling like the worst Christian in the world for only going Christmas Eve and Easter.

"You should tell me what to make, then," Dutchy stated, finishing the wrapping and admiring it.

Bumlets always hated the fact that Dutchy was, like, an expert wrapper. It was insane and totally not fair. Dutchy was ambivalent towards Christmas at the least, and only slightly joyful at the most. If anyone should have superior wrapping skills, it should be Bumlets.

"Okay, will do," he finally said, after snapping himself out of his Christmas induced jealousy.

He leaned over and kissed Dutchy's cheek, murmuring a 'can you wrap all my presents for me?' before leaving to go to the store.

~*Three days until Christmas*~

Snitch didn't know how it was possible, but somehow Itey had managed to obtain even more Christmas decorations. The entire apartment was filled with boxes and garland and glittery things and Snitch just wanted to tear his hair out and cry.

"All y'all are screwed," Snoddy stated happily, packing for his trip home.

"I know," Snitch moaned, rubbing his face with his hands tiredly.

Itey was on this Christmas rampage— it was disturbing, truly. It was like— it was like someone planning a wedding, but a wedding that would come every year and with horribly gaudy colors. But Itey looked so happy whilst doing that, and it's not like Snitch could deny him.

"Are you going to say anything?" Snoddy asked, debating over which shirt to pack, before stuffing both of them in his bag.

"No. He's having so much fun, I can't take that away from him, you know?"

Snoddy hummed and nodded, laughing when Snitch punched him for making a little whip noise. Except, okay, Snitch was kind of whipped, he couldn't deny that.

They both looked up as the door opened, Itey coming in carrying shopping bags.

"I got everyone matching Christmas sweaters!" he exclaimed happily, taking one out and showing it off.

And, no. Just, no. Snitch would not put up with this anymore. No way, no how.

"Take those back and never show them again. Ever," Snitch stated, ducking his head down at Itey's slightly heart-broken look.

"Okay," Itey mumbled, turning around and walking back out.

Merry Christmas, really. Snitch rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands, wondering how to make it up to Itey.

~*Two days until Christmas*~

"The playlist is finished," Skittery stated, smiling at Racetrack and starting to cook.

"And the drinks are perfect," Race continued, smirking as he took a sip of the last one.

"Yeah? Awesome. That's what I'll make for the actual party then.

"Oh. What time are you going over tomorrow, by the way?" he asked, tilting his head at Race and pursing his lips.

"Um… Probably around three to start helping. Then I have to go to church," he crossed himself quickly, "and so I'll probably be back around 10 or 11."

"You hate church," Skittery reminded Race, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I know. But every time I talk to my mother and lie about going to church, she somehow knows. It's scary."

Skittery nodded, slightly bemused, but accepting Racetrack's answer.

"Do you think they'll need any extra help?" he inquired.

"I'll call you if they do, how about that?" Racetrack replied, kissing Skittery deeply before walking out.

"I was told to get provisions," he shouted from the kitchen, before realizing that he didn't have to, because their roommates were gone for the week.

"Okay, have fun," Skittery yelled back, going to his playlist to check it one more time.

~*One day until Christmas*~

Bumlets had four dishes crossed out and another five left to make. Thank God he didn't buy everything himself, because, okay, that would be his budget for the rest of the next year and a half, seriously.

"You need to calm down, love," Dutchy stated from the doorway, blinking in shock as Bumlets accidentally ripped open the bag of flour.

"It's snowing," he deadpanned, spitting some out of his open mouth.

"Fuck!" Bumlets swore, thanking God that he bought a spare bag.

"Did it snow?" Racetrack, who had just come in, asked.

"Fuck you and work on making cookies," Bumlets replied, shooing Race over to the kitchen table and setting a recipe down in front of him.

"Is he always like this cooking?" Race stage-whispered to Dutchy, who nodded and sat across from him, ignoring Bumlets' 'you need to make green bean casserole!'

"I'm sorry," Race murmured, patting Dutchy's shoulder mock consolingly.

"I survive," Dutchy answered gravely.

"I hate you both, seriously. Now, I have to go to church, sorry."

And with that he left the two of them alone, changing and leaving for church. After a couple of hours of actually working, Race left as well. Dutchy spun back and forth in a stool, humming under his breath.

Mistletoe invaded his vision and he stopped, tilting his head up, only to be kissed breathless.

"Happy Christmas Eve," Bumlets mumbled, still in his church clothes.

"You too. Now, try not to be so crazed with the cooking, yeah?"

Bumlets laughed and nodded, rolling his sleeves up and starting to cook once more.

~*Christmas*~

"Where have you been?" Spot exclaimed, looking David up and down, checking for injuries.

"At Jack's empty apartment," David mumbled, not looking at Spot.

"For the past week?"

And okay, Spot would never admit it, but he was worried about David. He had called and called and felt like such an overbearing girlfriend or some shit, but he thought David had died or something equally as horrific.

"Yeah. At first I was mad. And then I realized that I had no reason to be, so then I got embarrassed and didn't want to come back."

"You didn't want to come back?" Spot asked, stepping away and giving David a look.

"No, I mean, why would I?"

And it wasn't until Spot stormed off to Bumlets' that David realized what he had just said.

If David weren't already Jewish, he probably would have converted at this point. Fuck Christmas, seriously.

~*Christmas*~

Itey hadn't talked to Snitch for the past two days. It was actually horrible. Like, he just kept giving these heart-broken looks to Snitch, and Snitch just felt like a total asshole.

"Ready to go?" he asked, knocking softly on their bedroom door.

Itey nodded and put a coat on, turning around and still ignoring Snitch. Snitch sighed and nodded as well, gesturing for Itey to go out first.

He did so, and stopped in his tracks.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, pointing to Snitch and covering his mouth with his hand.

"The Christmas sweater you got. I went back and got it. They didn't have enough for everyone, though, sorry."

Itey shook his head and smiled, muttering for Snitch to take it off because it was absolutely horrifying. Snitch did so, and they started packing up the decorations.

"So, ready to go with all the decorations?" Snitch asked, stuffing the car with the last of them.

"Yup, let's go," Itey replied, grinning up at Snitch and pulling him down for a kiss.

"Thanks," he whispered against Snitch's lips, smiling once more.

"Yeah, no problem," was Snitch's only reply before shutting the trunk and getting into the car.

~*Christmas*~

Racetrack and Skittery came in, congratulating Itey on his decorations (and Snitch for somehow surviving all of them) and putting the drinks out.

"What did you guys make?" Bumlets asked, popping his head into the living room and smiling at everyone.

"Some alcoholic drinks. Some non-alcoholic. They're all clearly marked, so don't worry," Skittery replied, plugging his laptop into the speakers and starting to set everything up.

~*Christmas*~

Spot showed up and flung his present under the tree, muttering something about being back later because he needed to go and take a walk or something.

"And if David shows up, tell him I got hit by a car or something," he stated viciously, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dutchy blinked and shrugged, calling Spot up and shaking his head as it wasn't answered.

"I wonder what happened?" Race asked, knowing that he would be the one going after Spot— damn being best friends.

"Well, I'm assuming that he and David got into a fight," Bumlets stated, setting out appetizers for everyone.

"Food is finished," he announced happily, undaunted by Spot and David's fight, "I'm just heating everything up."

"Can you go after Spot?" Itey asked Race, who was already putting his coat back on.

"See you guys later," he said, kissing Skittery quickly before following his pissed off friend.

And almost as if by magic, David showed up just a few minutes later, panting and slightly out of breath.

"Is Spot here?" he asked, placing his gift under the tree.

"No, but Race is going after him," Snitch replied, him and Itey both putting tiny little braids in Skittery's hair— who was oddly calm about the fact that his hair was being braided.

David sat down and accepted the drink Dutchy gave to him (Dutchy making sure that it was one of the alcoholic ones,) sipping it slowly and murmuring his compliments to Skittery. He tapped his leg and bit his lip, unknowingly harshing on everyone else's Christmas mood.

~*Christmas*~

Race came in just before Bumlets was going to call lunch (since he couldn't put it off any longer,) towing Spot along with him. David immediately went over to Spot, murmuring apologies and pleas for forgiveness and 'it wasn't what it sounded like's, letting out a sigh of relief at Spot nodded.

Snitch, urged by Itey, playfully held up mistletoe between the two of them, making Spot blushingly kiss David. Spot hated public displays of affection and everyone knew that.

"Okay everyone, lunch!" Bumlets stated, happy that everyone seemed alright now.

They all crowded around the kitchen table, piling food on each other's plates and talking animatedly.

Bumlets smiled, because, okay, he did good this year. If nothing else, they would at least have a happy Christmas— holiday season, sorry, David.