(A/N: This particular story was written from a suggestion by my Tumblr friend, Pigquet, who suggested a Goth Kids Christmas. This is my first time writing them, so sorry if it's really bad.)

"Ugh. Do we REALLY have to go?" Pete whined to Michael. "Parties are so fucking conformist and it makes me wanna puke."

"Shut up, dude. It's free booze." Michael responded. They had been arguing about going to Bebe Steven's annual Christmas party all week, and they all went something like that. Henrietta and Ferkel had already stated that they weren't going, and Michael didn't want to go alone. He had managed to convince Pete to go, but Pete complained about it every chance he got.

The day of the party, Michael showed up to Pete's place an hour early, carrying a bag.

"What's that?" Pete asked, gesturing to the bag.

"I got some stuff to wear to the party." Michael said with a small smirk.

"Oh god... Are you sick or something?" Pete asked, glaring at the bag.

"Nah. Are you gonna let me in or not?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, whatever." Pete sighed and stepped aside. Michael walked in, and the two of them went into Pete's room.

"I really hate you right now." Pete mumbled as Michael opened the bag.

"Yeah, whatever." Michael held up two of the ugliest sweaters Pete had ever laid eyes on. One was black, and covered with tiny ugly reindeer. The other was bright red and decorated with an extremely detailed picture of Santa Claus' face.

"You don't seriously expect me to wear one of those." Pete said in disbelief.

Michael smirked and took off his jacket. "Yeah, I do. Put it on." He tossed the Santa sweater to Pete before putting on the reindeer one.

"Where the fuck did you even get these?" Pete asked, glaring at Santa.

"Found them in my attic." Michael said with a shrug. "Put on the fucking sweater, Pete."

Pete sighed and put the sweater on. He looked down at it in disgust. "I look like such a fucking conformist."

"There's something else, too." Michael said, reaching back into the bag. He pulled out two Santa hats. Pete let out a loud groan.

"No! Fuck you!" He said.

"It's just for a few hours." Michael said, putting on his own hat. "You'll probably be too drunk by tomorrow to even remember wearing it."

"You owe me big time for this." Pete grumbled as he put the hat on. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, and felt the urge to vomit. "Goddamit..."

"You look fucking fine. Quit being a pussy." Michael said with an eye roll.

After they were both all dressed for the party, they left in Henrietta's mom's car (despite Henrietta not attending the party). The party was already in full-swing by the time they got there, just as Michael and Pete had planned. This way, nobody would pay much attention to them, and they'd be able to get to the free booze quicker.

The two of them walked into the kitchen. The party hostess herself was in there, and when she saw Pete and Michael, she giggled and ran over to them.

"It's so great that you're here!" Bebe squealed, before dragging them into the middle of the kitchen.

The small group of drunks stopped their loud conversations to look at the two new arrivals. Pete was immediately aware that they were all looking up, towards the ceiling.

"Oh my god, no way." Michael mumbled under his breath.

Pete looked up to see a cluster of mistletoe, directly above them. "Fuck no!" He looked up at Michael, then at Bebe.

"Christmas rules!" Bebe sang. "You two have to kiss!"

Michael sighed, and before Pete could protest, he pressed a kiss to the other's lips. The drunks around them all cheered, and a few started whispering around themselves about how it was bound to happen eventually.

Pete kissed Michael back without even realizing it. Once he did realize that he was kissing Michael back (and enjoying it), he shoved him away. Everyone around them went back to drinking and conversing. Pete and Michael got their drinks and went to hide out in the living room.

Pete pretending to hate the kiss didn't stop him from doing it again when Michael dropped him off.

They decided not to discuss it after that. Like ugly Christmas sweaters and Santa hats, love is so conformist.

(A/N Part 2: I would also like to say happy birthday to my friend John! LOVE YA PLATONICALLY!)