The First One

Matthew woke up to noise. It was all discernible rumbling; no clear conversations or distinctive sounds to clue him in on what was going on. Matthew deducted he was probably in the middle of a city and it was snowing, trees rustled above him, sunlight bloomed on his eyelids. Slowly, groggily, he opened his eyes, taking up the scenery.

He was in a park, for that he was sure. The grass was dead, from the patches you could see, the rest covered in uneven white snow. There was dark bark covering trees, their leaves long gone, the larger limbs covered with even more of the white fluff. Couples walked along pathways, sometimes glancing over to Matthew with odd looks. In the distance, in what Matthew assumed was the center, was a thirty-seven-foot tall evergreen Douglas fir with a heavy, elaborate star at the top, purple and gold round ornaments scattered throughout. The blonde was marveling in awe at the gaudy tree he didn't see someone coming close.

"Hey," someone said, close to him. Matthew jumped, turning to see the new man. "Whoa, calm down, man. The awesome me was just wondering if you were a hobo." The man before Matthew was as white as the snow on the ground, his hair a similar color. His eyes were as red as Christmas cheer, as his pearly whites were showing through a smirk. The young Santa knew who this was immediately.

This was Gilbert Beilschmidt; the one person to achieve naughty list every year of his twenty-five year-old life.

The blonde tried to inch away from the "naughty" man unobtrusively. He shook his head "no", quickly and quietly, not meeting the albino man's eyes. Matthew suddenly picked up interest for the bench he was on. It certainly was not North Pole quality, but it was still nicely crafted. The wood was warping and wearing after years of abuse, simple metal workings kept it together; this was a durable bench meant for two.

Gilbert took a seat beside Matthew, sitting with an "oof". The blonde could feel the albino's red eyes on him; he still refused to look at them. "Are you sure? You were sort of sleeping on the bench like you were used to it. If you're sure you're not a hobo, then tell me where you're staying."

Matthew fiddled his hands in his lap, staring at the white Converse he wore, graying with age and use. He was sure Gilbert was making fun of him; he wasn't on the naughty list for nothing. The young Santa cursed his father for sending him to New York and for the whole Mrs. Claus ordeal. His dad had said the first person he met would probably be his missus, would be his missus, but did that mean… Matthew shook his head, trying to clear it of the thought. The man beside him couldn't possibly be his Mrs. Claus! The quiet man hoped someone had said hello to him prior this current meeting, but with the looks he was getting, the probability was low.

Gilbert shifted. "So, no you're not sure, or no you're not staying anywhere? Tsk. If you're not gonna say, then my awesomness is gonna leave you." Matthew chanced a glance at the man beside him. The albino looked pissed, but underneath it was confusion, like Gilbert was actually worried for the blonde and really wanted to know.

After a brief inward battle, Matthew bit his lip and spoke, albeit hesitantly. "N-no, I'm not a hobo, Gi—I'm not a hobo." Matthew had almost let the albino's name slip; that was a big no-no. Gilbert was supposed to be a complete stranger. "A-and, um… No, I'm not staying anywhere," he said, softer than the previous statement.

Gilbert was silent for a few seconds. Finally he signed and, with one great sweeping motion, stood, swinging around to face Matthew. "Wanna board with me and my bruder, Luddie? It's unawesome if you're out in this damn cold, hobo." The albino man smirked, his red eyes glinting. "I'm the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!"

Matthew stared up in astonishment. The man who made the Naughty List every year was doing something kind? He didn't think it was possible! Sure, Gilbert was probably his missus, but… he was also a complete stranger! Would it be safe for him to go to the albino's house? Matthew pulled at his sweatshirt's sleeve, candy-cane red instead of standard elf blue; it showed he was a Kris Kringle. "U-uh…" He said, wearily. "I only just met you… I'm Matthew, b-by the way." He held out a shaky hand, half covered by his sweatshirt. After a second, he added, "A-and I'm not a homeless person."

Gilbert gave a smirk that said "Yeah, sure", which made Matthew pout inwardly. "So, if you don't have any place to go, where are you from," the albino asked, grabbing at Matthew's hand and pulling him to stand. Matthew gasped and tried to regain his balance, finding himself suddenly close to the naught man's smirking face.

The young Santa blushed a pretty pink, trying to think through his frazzled state to come up with an answer other than "Santa's Workshop". Finally, he settled on an excuse he had heard from a Santa-themed movie, a third sequel, mind you. "I'm, uh, Canadian… um, eh." In a way, it was true; his mother came from Toronto, Canada originally, so Matthew supposed it was okay.

The albino gave the blonde an odd look. "Oh…'kay… If you're a Canadian hobo, how'd you get into New York?" Matthew bristled at the mention of being a hobo again, opening his mouth to object when Gilbert tugged at his arm again, starting to walk. "Anyways, it's unawesomely cold out here! Let's get inside!"

Matthew didn't even have the time to make word of protest before he was dragged out of the park and into the rest of the city. There were even more people out and about; men in trench coats on cell-phones, women dressed in latest fashion on their way to work or the shops, children and teens walking and taking the bus to school, the naughty children ditching, the smell of exhaust was a permanent fixture here, making Matthew crinkle his nose. The albino made his way through the streets, crossing a few, ducking into smaller side streets, which made most of the buildings they passed insignificant blurs. Finally, Gilbert stopped in front of a building, a few stories shorter than the ones on either side of it, the brick tan with various stains, a wreath hanging on the door. The odd man marched right up to it and entered, quickly dragging Matthew over to a set of elevators.

"So, this is where the awesome me lives," Gilbert exclaimed, loudly. He had a look of pride on his face, beaming down at the young Santa. "You'll have to sleep on the couch, hobo." The albino stooped down and took a whiff of Matthew's hair, which the blonde knew smelled like cinnamon and evergreen trees. "Awesome; you don't smell like a hobo! That means Luddie will like you more." The elevator dinged and the strange man ushered Matthew inside.

Meanwhile, the blonde was still trying to understand the naughty man; Gilbert was definitely a strange one, just who took a stranger home and smelled them? Matthew saw the albino choose the top floor, which was quite a ways up.

The elevator ride was silent, Matthew trying to get his thoughts together about the other man, and said other man waiting for Matthew to strike up the conversation. After a minute or two of silence, the elevator dinged again and the pair got off silently, the blonde awkwardly following Gilbert to his apartment. The albino unlocked an average door; the same white color as the rest of the hallway, the only thing differentiating it being the number 1225 and a nameplate underneath reading "Beilschmidt", and swung it open.

"Behold! The Casa de la Awesome!" Gilbert smirked wildly and bounded in, Matthew following hesitantly.

To Matthew's eyes, it was a sorry sight to see. There was not a single piece of holiday cheer anywhere in the apartment; no reds or greens, no bows or ribbons, no candy-canes or gingerbread, no tree! There was no tinsel in sight! Getting past his obviously Christmas influenced state of fashion, the young Santa had to admit the apartment was finely decorated. To the right was a large kitchen with state-of-the-art appliances—though, nothing compared to the ones back home— that were spotless with white granite counters, to the left was a door, probably a hall-closet, directly in front of Matthew was a large living/family room. It had sleek black couches and arm chairs, though they still managed to look comfortable, a mahogany coffee table and a sixty-inch flat screen, the floor being of the same wood as the table with a plush throw-rug sitting underneath said coffee table. The room had ceiling lights and ceiling to floor windows, so that rid the room of lamps, in the corner was a book case full of not books, as one would think, but movies. Off to the right side, in the middle of the wall was a hallway that leads to three doors, one of which was open, only to show a black and white bathroom, so Matthew assumed the other two were bedrooms.

The blonde could not imagine anyone wanting to live in a house that was only two colors, at best, but here this person was; a person who was also willing to take a "hobo" home for the holidays. He continued making his way in, gently closing the door behind him, and looked over to Gilbert, who was currently sitting on the couch, hurriedly emailing someone on his smart-phone.

"Hey, Gilbert?" Matthew finally said, cutting into the silence. The albino looked up, pausing in his typing. "Why are you doing this? Y-you don't seem like a person to just take a stranger home and offer them a place to stay…"

Gilbert smirked, answering immediately. "Feli said—that's Luddie's friend, by the way—I should do something 'nice' so 'Santa Claus' will give me something other than coal." He rolled his eyes and sniggered. "Plus, you're cute, so, whatever." The albino's smirk widened.

Matthew blinked, feeling slightly insulted. Gilbert a) didn't do this out of his own free will and b) doesn't believe in his father and, by extent, Matthew himself. The blonde was about to give the naughty man a piece of his mind when the door opened again and two sets of feet, one of them chattering away, walked in.

Both Matthew and Gilbert looked to see the intruders and met two eyes staring back, one ice-blue and the other a light brown. It was silent for a few seconds before Gilbert broke it. "Hey, Ludwig," he greeted, smirking.

Ludwig, the blue-eyed man, did not look very happy, and, glancing towards Matthew, he growled, "Bruder, who is this?" The brown-eyed man had stopped chattering and was staring at Matthew with an odd look, and with a start, the blonde realized this was Feliciano Vargas, the man who wanted a pasta pot for Christmas.

"Ve~ Santa Claus?!"

A/N: I went with the every other day option and it is now going to be six chapters. XD Also, the title was made up by picnic. :D

Thanks for all the follows/reviews/whatever; I love you, too!