I.

The first year that Sweet Pea and Fangs spent Christmas together as a couple (and, entirely different and new than the previous years in which they were together, but not like this) was the first year they had Christmas outside of Riverdale.

Fangs was the homebody between the two, but Sweet Pea had never been too keen on the town. Apart from the Serpents, there was little tethering him to the location. As soon as serial killers started crawling out of the woodwork, Sweet Pea wanted to nope the frick out of there.

Except for, of course, they were in high school and no one had any money to their name. And, at that point, a part of Sweet Pea was still furiously denying that a deeper part of him was bisexual. And irrevocably attracted to his best friend, Fangs.

The who, what, when, where, and why of how the pair got together isn't important. At least, that's what Fangs says, if you asked his opinion. What matters is that they are together and they're young and that they know they really love each other. When you spend your young life running drugs on an empty stomach, you don't wait around to share affection with each other. When you know you just say it.

And so they did.

They can't make it very far. If they went more south, they'd hit New York and they could afford a sidewalk square with the money they have. If they go north, they start hitting the sorts of places that people from New York vacation to, and that's no good either.

The only redeeming thing about Riverdale was that it was dirt cheap.

Between the two of them, working however they can in non-criminal ways, eventually selling Sweet Pea's trailer (as he is the only one left of his family), and finally accepting some generous donations from Toni, Jughead, and FP, they're able to hop four towns over. No serial killers, no mythological beings and weird version of Dungeons and Dragons, and no supernatural or criminal bullshit.

They both agree for a clean start.

The landlady looks at them just for a second, their intertwined fingers, and she narrows her eyes. However, cash is cash and she seems the type that couldn't care less as long as they pay on time and don't wreck the place. It's about as big as a trailer, though markedly shittier. They were forewarned that the water heater is down more often than not and that the fridge works best on the left side, but there's something perfect about it that neither can describe. They are able to take the lease over mid-year (a death, regrettable, but c'est la vie), and they move their entire lives down on the first of December.

Between them, everything important that they own pretty much fits in the car Fangs got. They sleep on an air mattress until Sweet Pea finds a mattress on the side of the road. There's a very suspect stain, but beggars can't be choosers. Sweet Pea lands a job as a cook at a local diner that reminds him strongly of Pop's and Fangs is able to join a construction crew. It's grueling work, but it's better than before.

"And we're together," Sweet Pea says. Fangs, between the two of them, may be the one everyone expects to be pretty sappy, but honestly, it's Sweet Pea. Fangs has long joked that his heart is made of pillow fluff, wrapped in a leather jacket. However, it's been a while since either has worn their jackets (hanging in the hall closet, something neither can quite part with), so all that's left is that softness.

II.

Sweet Pea finds Fangs staring at their living room with the most peculiar expression on his face. It's not quite one of disgust, but it's not quite one of contentment either. It's somewhere in between, like someone looking at a gift they wanted years ago, but no longer do.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

His hand on Fangs' shoulder shocks the slightly younger boy. Fangs turns, jumping slightly, to frown at Sweet Pea.

"I dunno. I just thought we'd get here and it would be more. Or something else." His voice is quiet. "Yeah, maybe something else."

Sweet Pea knows Fangs well enough to know that it's not that he's disappointed with their life. It's just that in their wildest dreams, they imagined moving to the Big City with a fancy apartment. Or to a house. Or to something better than this. Fangs has always enjoyed the more luxurious things in life and this is closer to a cardboard box than anything else. There was hardly a chance of affording anything like that, and Fangs was well aware, he was allowed to be frustrated.

Sweet Pea hums, thinking. He goes to the kitchen, gets out two mugs. Fangs leans in the threshold, trying to figure out what Sweet Pea is doing.

"Go away," Sweet Pea says with a grin, so Fangs knows he's not upset. "Surprise."

Fangs holds up his hands and plops down on their couch.

Sweet Pea yells from the kitchen, "Yo, Fangs. Queue up Netflix."

"Uhm, with what?"

"Some sappy Hallmark Christmas movie, I dunno. Something festive."

Fangs snorts, the sound in the back of his throat. "I think I'd prefer an action movie."

"Festive, Franklin," Sweet Pea intones, using his boyfriend's full name, which he only does to make a point.

He can hear Fangs clicking through things. He finishes the drinks in the microwave and brings out two steaming cups of hot chocolate. Fangs is twirling the remote around his fingers. He nods his head toward the TV, where a title has been brought up. Sweet Pea laughs out loud.

"Die Hard? Best of both worlds." Sweet Pea agrees. He hands Fangs one of the hot chocolates. Fangs stares at the overloaded marshmallow and chocolate sauce topping, watching Sweet Pea sip his.

"Is there any booze in this?" Fangs asks.

Sweet Pea plops down, throwing his arm around Fangs.

"Of course there is. I'm not an animal."

III.

Sweet Pea has since decided the best way to bring Fangs out of this trance is by adding as much gosh-darn Christmas joy as they can. Come January, he'll have to figure something else out, but there's no better way to mark this momentous month than by going ham on the holidays. Or, as much as they can on their scant savings.

To a co-worker, Sweet Pea mentions off-hand that Christmas trees are so expensive. The co-worker replies in kind that he knows a guy who has some trees on his land and he's sure he can convince him to let Sweet Pea cut one down if Sweet Pea covers his shift on Saturday. This seems like a win, and frankly, Sweet Pea isn't saying no to extra money anyway, and soon enough he has a little pin airdropped to him with the location of the forest.

Fangs has an ax from FP. An ax that has likely seen far worst things than trunks of trees, but they're giving this poor little instrument a better life. So far, it's been collecting dust under their bed. Sorta like a baseball bat for intruders, but far more terrifying.

Then, with a tree located, Sweet Pea gets on Facebook and spends his next lunch break sending a message to anyone he knows that he hasn't severed ties with.

The next day he does not work (Monday) he wakes Fangs up extra early. He knows Fangs is not a morning person, but Fangs works at 3 so time is of the essence.

"What?" Fangs looks so adorable all sleepy and groggy. Sweet Pea is a little overcome by just how lucky he is for a moment, inhaling hard and just wanting to bask in this moment.

"Uhm, tree," Sweet Pea says, catching himself, "Christmas tree. C'mon."

Fangs spies the ax in Sweet Pea's fingers.

"No," he groans, covering his face with his pillow, "I do not want to get arrested again."

The only year that Sweet Pea and Co. ever had a Christmas tree was back when they were all young, stupid high schoolers. Toni really wanted one and somehow convinced her male friends in to chopping down one from the local park. Of course, this had gotten them all in big trouble, because you can't just go around chopping down trees.

"Naw, man, this one is for real. At a tree farm." Sweet Pea throws Fangs some clothes and drops his boots on his stomach, grinning.

"With what money, pray tell?" Fangs asks. They don't keep secrets about their shared bank account and all. They're both well aware they're pretty low on cash, hardly scraping by.

"Have a little Christmas magic."

Fangs raises an eyebrow but puts on his clothes. Slowly, just to sort of piss Sweet Pea off. They're that sort of couple, the one that's always trying to get under each other's skin. It's sorta their way of foreplay, but also how Sweet Pea knows they love each other. The day that they start being uncritically nice to each other is the day he knows that this epic love he feels for him is all but gone.

When they arrive at the gate, it seems to be closed down. They exit the car and locate a small cabin. A dude that totally looks like he may survive a zombie apocalypse comes banging out. He's about to start yelling, until he squints.

"Yer Tom's friends?"

"Yessir," Sweet Pea is quick to say, because he has a feeling this guy has like twelve shotguns and he's not to keen on being riddled with bullets as a fun Christmas adventure. If that happened, Fangs may never let him plan things again. Period.

"Right. Go on in the back. Any tree with a ribbon is good to cut. If someone cuts an artery, call me. Otherwise, I'll be watching' my shows." He stares them down. "Understood?"

"Ah, yep! Thanks," Fangs sutters, dragging Sweet Pea away. "Merry Christmas?"

The dude only huffs, turning back into his house.

"I feel like he was two seconds away from ax murdering us," Sweet Pea admits. "Some real serial killer shit."

Fangs hums in agreement, puffing warm air into his hands. "I'm pretty sure that's what Santa would look like if he started doing drugs."

There's a moment where the picture crystalizes in Sweet Pea's mind and then, for some unknown reason, he just cannot stop laughing. Fangs looks at him like he's crazy for a second, but apparently, Sweet Pea's laughter is infectious so soon their loud bellows are echoing around the forest.

Fangs bounces through the snow up to the first tree marked. Like this, he's starting to shed some of that sadness and looks as light as a child. There's a wide grin on his face, something Sweet Pea has been missing something terribly, and Sweet Pea breathes easier for a second.

"Dude, they're named!" Fangs chortles. "This one's Lisa."

"That's morbid. Naming trees we're about to chop down." Sweet Pea checks the tag to make sure it's not just that someone named Lisa has already pre-chosen this tree, but yep, sure enough, there on the tag in bold sharpie it reads 'Hi! My name is Lisa and I'm a Balsam fir!'

Fangs has moved on to the next tree. He starts calling out the names as he moves around (Toby, Ben, Sarah, Christina…to name a few).

"How about this one?" Sweet Pea asks, finding a nice and sturdy looking shorter tree, something that will fit in their living room and up their staircase. It smells great too, like all those Department stores Sweet Pea would hang around in as a kid around the holidays.

Fangs pushes his hat back on his head, finding the tag.

"No, its name is Jaime."

"…And?"

Fangs scoffs, "I'm not having a Kingslayer tree in our house," he says very clearly. Sweet Pea does a double-take.

"God, you're serious. We're picking by names now? Not by actual tree features?"

Fangs holds up his hands, a small smile on his face. "You're the one who brought me here, dude."

"Okay, then you find a tree," Sweet Pea says. Fangs shrugs, and so he does.

They end up going home with a tree named Luke, which isn't as 'good' in features as the Lannister tree, but Fangs says Luke, as in Luke Skywalker, is a good name, thus it's a good tree.

Luke looks pretty nice in their house. Sweet Pea must admit that Fangs picked well.

IV.

Sweet Pea has all the packages sent to his work. He makes it very clear on the hundreds of texts and Facebook messages he sent out that it was a surprise for Fangs, so under no circumstances should anyone sent it to their apartment, if they have their address on hand.

He hit up anyone he could think of. The Serpents, kids from the Southside, kids from the Northside, kids from Greendale, store owners, drug dealers…anyone that he doesn't have an immediate problem with, he sent a message to. Some were a tad awkward, what with Sweet Pea having never talked to them face-to-face ever, but he's willing to put that all aside for Fangs.

His boss just raises an eyebrow at the mountain of packages that seem to arrive daily, but he couldn't care less, because Sweet Pea always takes them home and still puts in good work.

He hides them on his side of the closet.

They both agreed that they needed personal space (even in the form of a couple of shelves) because that's what a healthy couple does. He knows Fangs probably hides candy bars on his side, but hey, to each their own.

Soon, the gifts overflow the shelves, and Sweet Pea is filling his work locker with them. And then his backpack. And then his coat in the trunk of the car.

By the time December 24th rolls around, he's pretty glad, because he's not sure he can hide these anymore.

The outpour of support had been amazing, to be frank. He had been expecting a few parcels, but he's far past one hundred. It's not much he was asking of them and, in general, people like him and Fangs. They seem to like them as a couple and as individuals. And, everyone likes an underdog story, right? Everyone likes to hear about some pair that managed to leave their shitty town and start a better life. A fresh one, like a snow-fall untouched by anyone.

They decorated the tree with some tinsel that Sweet Pea nabbed from work, but not much else.

"We'll have other years," Sweet Pea says, as they make a few paper decorations.

"Yeah, I know," Fangs sighs. But he is much more disappointed with their bare tree than he lets on. Though, Sweet Pea would argue even having it in the house seems properly festive.

On Christmas Eve, Sweet Pea waits until Fangs is asleep. He's a heavy sleeper, so Sweet Pea has little fear he'll wake up and wander in while Sweet Pea's working. Carrying arm-loads of gifts outside, Sweet Pea starts his work with only the light of his iPhone's flashlight pointed at the tree.

He's very specific about it. He has to be. It takes him nearly two hours for it to be perfect, and then he crawls back into bed.

V.

"Jordan?"

Sweet Pea blinks awake. He rolls out of bed, noticing Fangs was up first. A grin curls on his face, something like holiday joy he has not properly felt in ages, as good as he is as pretending.

"Yeah?"

"You, ah, wanna come out here and explain this?" Fangs asks.

Sweet Pea swings his legs to the cold floor, grabbing a t-shirt from his messier side of the room. He comes out to see Fangs staring at the tree, all done up in lights and a hundred ornaments.

"Merry Christmas, babe."

"I don't…where did you get all these? Did you rob that creepy Christmas store on Main?" Fangs asks, scratching his head.

Sweet Pea takes two big steps over to the tree. He picks one of the ornaments off and throws it to Fangs. He motions for Fangs to turn it over.

Fangs read out loud from the painted clay snake, "Merry Christmas you two. Much love, Toni. 2019." He frowns, his brow furrowing, "They're all from the Serpents?" he asks.

"Sorta. Sorta no." Sweet Pea goes around to the back, grabbing another, and tosses a moose his way.

Fangs turns this one over too, "Proud of you two. Moose Mason, 2019." A sort of understanding starts to dawn. He looks at all the ornaments on the tree, "These are all from different people?" he asks.

"Yep. Well, I mean, FP sent us these nice lights as well as an ornament, and actually, Pop Tate sent us that tree topper. I mean, I wasn't expecting all of this, though." He waves a hand, tapping a snowglobe looking one. "This one is from Ginger. She was part of Cheryl's friend group." Next, a reindeer. "Chuck Clayton." He could go through the entire tree. He's memorized it all. Lots had left his message on read-received or not read at all, so to say he was overwhelmed was an understatement.

"I guess there's more Christmas cheer that exists than we may think," Sweet Pea finished, shrugging. "I was contacting literally anyone. I mean, yeah, all the Serpents and all of the people we talked to regularly did, but I was shocked by some of them. But it's ours and I just…so, Merry Christmas?" he finished a bit uneasily, trying to gauge Fang's reaction.

Fangs moaned. "And all I got you was some movie tickets."

"Excuse me, spoilers!" Sweet Pea says in faux offense. "But honestly…to quote Mariah Cary, 'All I Want for Christmas Is You'."

Fangs rolls his eyes. "Kiss me, ya big idiot."

Sweet Pea grins, pulling Fangs close. "Gladly."