The First One
It was now the sixteenth of December when Matthew was approached by Feliciano one morning. Gilbert and Ludwig had gone out to do whatever those two did, and that left the Italian home alone with the blonde.
Over the past week or so, Feliciano had become something akin to a friend and constantly asked him questions about the North Pole, which Matthew answered to the best of his ability without giving away too many secrets. The Italian had been appalled when the young Santa had said they didn't eat pasta often, and had then dragged Matthew to the kitchen and made him some fresh pasta. Matthew had asked Feliciano about Gilbert, trying to get to know his missus better without actually talking to him. From Feliciano he had learned that he had become Ludwig's "friend", as the stoic blonde was embarrassed to be so open with their relationship and was in denial, about five years ago while in high school. The brothers had come from Germany to the US for a fresh start, as their parents had said, and had immediately fit in well. More specifically about Gilbert, he was albino. Feliciano had said it like it was new information for Matthew. Something that was surprising to the blonde was that Feliciano had a love for baby chickens and cute things, and that he continually said in high school—more often as a joke, but it still stood—that he would have "awesomer kids than anyone in the world!" Gilbert had two best friends that were currently out of country; Francis was a Frenchman currently in Paris working on a clothes collection and a Spanish friend, Antonio, was taking a holiday in Southern Italy, where Feliciano said was the origins of the Vargas name. There was another piece of information that greatly disheartened Matthew; the reason the brothers didn't celebrate Christmas. Their parents never celebrated it, so they never got in the hang of Christmas cheer.
It was also the reason why Feliciano approached him that morning. Matthew looked up as Feliciano came closer on the brisk Saturday morning. "Ve~ San—Matthew?" Feliciano had asked, oh-so innocently, as he slipped up on Matthew's name once again. The blonde had explained to the Italian repeatedly that he was not yet Santa Claus, but Feliciano still slipped up. "Can you help me with something?"
The young Santa looked up wearily, not quite liking what Feliciano was up to. Nonetheless, Matthew said, "Of course I can, Feliciano. What is it?" Hopefully, his idea would not be idiotic.
Feliciano grinned happily. "Well, I was thinking, we could decorate the apartment while Luddie and Gil are gone!" Feliciano's smile held strong while Matthew continued to stare at him, dumbfounded. When little St. Nick did not say anything, Feliciano's grin dropped a bit and he added, "You know, like Christmas decorations! To get them in the holiday cheer and maybe this year we can all celebrate Christmas together, correctly, ve. Unless, you have to go back to the North Pole on Christmas, since you're Santa Claus, and all, and that would be kinda sad, but I understand and I'm sure Luddie and Gil will, too. So, you want to decorate with me?"
Matthew blinked, slowly realizing what the Italian was saying. "Um… sure. That'll be, uh, fun." Matthew smiled timidly; with every passing second, he liked the idea even more. If the apartment was decorated, Matthew would definitely feel more at home. "And I'm sure it will work; I was thinking they needed to get in the Christmas spirit, too. By the way, Feliciano, I'm not Santa Claus yet, but I will have to go back to the North Pole on Christmas Eve. I wish I could spend Christmas here, I really do, but I can't. Sorry." Because it was true. Matthew did want to spend Christmas with these people who he had known only for sixteen days. Ludwig, Feliciano, and Gilbert were all wonderful people. Granted, Gilbert was not the nicest of all people, but Kris Kringle, Junior, was really starting to like him.
The Italian clapped his hands, jumped up and down, and smiled widely. "YAAAAAY! Let's get started!" With that, he ran to the room he regularly shared with Ludwig, spent a minute in it, and returned to Matthew with bags of Christmas decorations. "I've got tinsel, lights, ornaments, stockings, candy canes, snowmen, town displays, garlands, figurines of Santa, dancing penguins, a gingerbread house making kit, place mats, reindeer mugs, a mistletoe, and snow globes! And underneath the bed is a box with a fake tree in it which I can go get right now, one second, ve!" Feliciano dropped the bags in his hands at Matthew's feet and ran back to his room, leaving Matthew bewildered. When had the pasta-loving man bought all this without anyone noticing? The magical man did not have much time pondering this for the other guy came back with a long box with a picture of a tree on it. "Ready? We have to start now, coz time is short." And cue Operation Turn-Mr.-Scrooge's-Oops-I-Meant-Beilshmidt's-and-His-Brother's-Apartment-Into-a-Total-Winter-Wonderland-so-the-Christmas-Spirit-Can-Reign-True. Or Operation TMSOIMBHBAITWWCSCRT, whatever you wanted to call it.
Matthew soon realized that decorating with Feliciano was a breeze. The guy had so much energy in him that Matthew could only do the small jobs like switching the plain place mats with the red and green holiday place mats. However, once in a while, Feliciano needed his assistance, like putting together the plastic tree. In no time (about two hours), the Christmas fanatics had the apartment screaming "'tis the season to be jolly, hohohohoho-hohohoho."
Lit in all its fake glory was the fake tree with already-inserted lights shining brightly, decorated with matching round red, blue, white, and green ornaments that were placed artfully, thanks to Feliciano. Since there was no fireplace, the stockings were laid out onto the TV stand, four for all the people in the house, though Matthew told the Italian repeatedly that he wasn't staying for Christmas. Gilbert's was red and had little yellow birds with Santa hats on, while Ludwig's was patterned like the German flag and Feliciano's looked like the Italian flag, and Matthew's had a Santa suit pattern. Garland outlined every doorway and candles were placed on every flat surface in the main room. They set up the little community on the coffee table, not caring if people actually used it. The town consisted of a few houses, a post-office, a firehouse, and movie theatre with children figurines playing and adults scattered throughout. Snow globes were placed in the kitchen, in corners that would not get in the way of cooking. The dancing penguins and figures of Santa greeted people in the entryway. The mistletoe was placed before the entrance of the kitchen, which both Feliciano and Matthew carefully avoided when close to each other. When they were finished, Matthew made celebratory cocoa and poured it into the new reindeer mugs, setting to work with Feliciano construct the gingerbread house.
The two were making the gingerbread house, the last thing they had to do, when they heard the front door open and two pairs of feet walk in. The footsteps did not get far into the apartment. Instead, a question rang through the flat. "What the hell happened to my home?"
Feliciano and Matthew stopped squirting frosting on the cookies. The Italian skipped out of the kitchen, while the toymaker followed behind silently. "We decorated it," Feliciano explained happily. "Ve… don't you like it? We can have a real Christmas this year! Won't it be lovely?" Gilbert and Ludwig looked stupefied; Gilbert's expression was morphing into anger, though. "Do you guys want to help make the gingerbread house? Sant-Matthew and I already started, but you can still help!" Matthew shrunk back at the mention of his name; the Beilschmidt brother's eyes flickered to him for a moment, making Matthew extremely nervous. Should have said no to Feliciano's idea of decorating the apartment? The more he thought about it, the more the nervous feeling took over.
There was complete silence for a few seconds. "The hobo helped you," Ludwig asked calmly, except the anger was clear in his eyes. Matthew bit his lip and pulled out a model air plane from his pocket to fiddle with. This just could not be good.
Suddenly, after taking the plane apart, it was swiped from his hands. Matthew gasped and looked at the plane hijacker. It was Gilbert. "How do you always have everything in your pockets? How can you play with a plane when this is serious? You practically vandalized my house!" The pseudo-Canadian cringed from the yelling, partly from Gilbert calling Christmas decorations vandalism of all things.
"It was my idea," Feliciano cried. "Santa just helped!"
"Damnit, Feliciano," Ludwig shouted. "He isn't Santa Claus! Santa Claus doesn't exist! Grow up, stop being a child, you're acting stupid. He's a bum, homeless, he's nothing." Matthew bit his lip and looked to the floor – how did his father put up with people saying he was not real? It was tearing Matthew apart. Why had his dad even sent him here in the first place?
"And you ruined my flat," Gilbert included. "You know we don't celebrate Christmas and we never will. Please understand this, Feli. Matthew also should not have done this either." Said magic man flinched.
Ludwig looked at the albino. "Maybe you should have never brought him home, bruder."
Matthew plopped uselessly to the floor as the three continued to fight over him and the Christmas theme Gilbert's home was now sporting. The soon-to-be Santa really did not like this. His stomach was twisting in knots, his palms were sweaty, and he was biting his lip so hard he would surely break skin soon enough. He sighed.
When things seem tough, just eat pancakes.
With that motto in mind, he dug into his endless pockets and pulled a takeout container full of freshly made buttermilk pancakes, a fork, and a bottle of his favorite maple syrup out. Quickly, Matthew prepared his meal and got started stuffing the fluffy goodness down his throat, trying to block out the quarrel happening. Oh, maple, were these pancakes good.
"-you are totally bullsh… do you smell pancakes?" Gilbert's remark stopped Ludwig and Feliciano's next arguments. All three pairs of eyes turned to the man sitting on the ground, fork in his right hand, take-out container with a half-eaten stack of buttermilk pancakes with a serving of maple syrup that was sure to cause diabetes, trying to be oblivious to the arguing people before him. A moment of silence followed by, "Where in the world did you get freshly made pancakes?" When Matthew did not respond and chose to eat more pancakes, Gilbert squatted to the floor next to the blonde and tapped his shoulder.
This action emitted a surprised squeak of "EEP!" Matthew almost dropped his pancakes, Rudolph forbid, and Gilbert had scared the peppermint out of him. He looked up at the aforementioned albino, almost squealed again because he was not expecting Gilbert to be that close, and asked in a breathy voice, "W-Wha-What do you want, eh?"
"Where did you get those pancakes?" The Prussian's expression looked cool, calculating, and curious.
"U-Um, my pocket." Blue-violet eyes glanced down at the deliciousness he loved so much. "They came from my huge pocket that you hate so much. Sorry."
Gilbert bit his lip. "Your pocket is frustrating." He sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. He glanced over to Ludwig who was waiting for the elder's final statement. He sent a cursory look to Feliciano who was nervous and had a homemade white surrender flag in his hands. Gilbert frowned, gulped and turned his gaze back to Matthew, the little birdie he had picked up off the streets. As much as Gilbert wanted to toss him back to the streets… something was rendering that decision useless. The Prussian held eye contact with Matthew a moment more, staring at the wonders of the blue-violet eyes that held that shining spark Gilbert felt would never get old and dull. Finally, Gilbert said, "You guys were making a gingerbread house? Can I see it? I want to help finish it. And eat it."
Feliciano let out a gloriously happy laugh that lightened the mood immediately. Matthew giggled, put his fork in the pancake container, closed it, and deposited it back in his pocket. Gilbert helped him off the ground and the four walked to the kitchen, although be it Ludwig was less than excited to. The house was still in pieces, but that was something frosting and gumdrops could fix. With mediocre Christmas cheer, the little group set to making the gingerbread people a home.
When they were done, they looked down at their accomplishment. It was colorful. Gumdrops, candy canes, lollipops, chocolate chips, and frosting made a big mess. It really did not look like a house at all and the gingerbread people Gilbert and Ludwig made looked like monstrous globs compared to Matthew and Feliciano's meticulously made people. "It looks yummy," Gilbert said. "Can I eat it?" When the reply he got was negative, he added, "Please?" The response was still a negative.
A/N: So, if this chapter seems different in writing style and seems very inconsistent, it's true. I've had a piercing headache all day (would that be a migraine?) and my dear sister, the other person on this account (picnic), wrote this for me. She's such a dear! I wrote everything in the beginning up until "Nonetheless," and then I wrote the describe-yness of the Christmas-fied apartment. Other than that, picnic wrote it! Next is last chapter!
Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows/blah-blah-blah; I love you, too!