Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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𝟙: ℂ𝕆𝕆𝕃𝔼ℝ 𝕋ℍ𝔸ℕ 𝔸 𝕊ℕ𝕆𝕎𝕄𝔸ℕ’𝕊 ℍ𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝕆ℕ ℂℍℝ𝕀𝕊𝕋𝕄𝔸𝕊 𝔼𝕍𝔼

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“A mistletoe match?”

“Not just a mistletoe match, the Mistletoe Match!” Carlos said, excitedly shaking his lackadaisical best friend by the shoulders. “A super crazy, intense, and dare I say it oh-yes-I-do, dangerous head-to-head battle to see who can get the most mistletoe kissies in one afternoon!”

“Carlos, please...” Kendall sighed. “Look, it’s a cold December morning, and all I really wanna do is stay in my fuzzy jammies, drink hot cocoa with lots of marshmallows, and have a non-crazy, peaceful, and dare I say it oh-yes-I-do, safe Christmas movie marathon all day, if that’s fine with you. And hey, after It’s A Wonderful Life on FOX ends, Kidzie Channel’s airing A Charlie Brown Christmas, you wanna watch with?” he generously patted the seat next to him while holding out a bowl of swirly peppermints towards Carlos, who lit up at the humble offer.

“Oooh!” He grabbed a handful of the candy and eagerly shoved the whole gob in his mouth, clear plastic wrappers and all. “I’m gonna need that sugar rush for later, thankies!”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes! Wait. Nooo...a-ha! Is this a trick question???” Carlos squinted suspiciously at Kendall.

“No tricks, just Christmas treats.” He smiled. “Come hang out with me, Los.”

“Kenny,” the lounging boy was showered with minty-sweet debris as Carlos undauntedly continued with his yuletide petition, “as much as I’d love to snuggle it out with you and pig out on all the delicious junk food while binge-watching our favourite festive cartoons and yucky rom-com Lifetime movies, there are more important things hanging in the balance here.”

“Such as?”

“Such as your honour! The impending glory! The girls out there who might be feeling a bit sad and lonely at such a wonderful time of the year!” Carlos pounded a valiant fist on his chest, clearly delighted to be doing all the motivational speeching for once. “What better way to spread the holiday cheer and celebrate Christmas Eve than with the noble gladiator’s long-honoured tradition of a brutal Mistletoe Match for the ages?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Kendall countered, shrugging airily. “feeling super cosy and getting cool toys?”

“Boo grampa Schmendall, that’s so booooring!” Carlos shot him a courtly Roman Emperor’s thumbs-down—and blew a not-so-courtly raspberry along with it. “Get off your nightgowned butt for once and get those weak knees up and moving before New Year rusts them over and then you can’t use BTR’s awesome stage trampoline anymore—and Gustavo isn’t gonna like that!”

“Gee, thanks Charlie Bucket, need me to go with you to Wonka’s Chocolate Factory too?” Kendall grumbled, resentfully sinking deeper into his quaint kingdom of heaped comforters instead of following his adamant friend’s commands. “And speaking of, shouldn’t you be stringing along the two other old folks so they could also be enemy gladiators for your noble Mistletoe Match battle thingy?”

“Oh, you just know I would’ve invited the other guys to get aboard the Mistle-train, destination awesome!—but Logie’s already spoiled silly with mistletoe kissy-slaps from Camille so he’s obviously out, and apparently James has streptobliblowhatever and it’s suuuper contagious, so we can’t have him giving out free kisses and infecting everyone around the Palm Woods and like, start the zombie Christmas-pocalypse or something.” Carlos explained.

“Huh...” Kendall thoughtfully trailed off. “I’m pretty sure I saw Jett with a face mask on when I passed him by the pool yesterday—I really hope the strep throat isn’t turning into a serious issue here or else Loges is gonna have a major fit about it! But then again, James and Jett are always fighting each other for the weights and mirrors at the gym, so maybe I’m just looking too much into it. I hope so, at least.”

“And it wouldn’t be fair to have J-man join in the grand arena anyway, since he did that whole ‘getting an elevatorful of girls to kiss him under the mistletoe’ move before, which is just super foul.” Carlos sulked. “...and I really don’t wanna lose to him for the millionth time, either.”

But his sour attitude lightened up just as quickly, the pairs of brass bells on his festive bedroom slippers ringing a mirthful twinkle alongside the rattly wobbling of the coffee table as he jumped atop it in brazen defiance of both Mama Knight’s ultimate household rules and her couch potato son.

“Dude, elf boots off the table, please—and also, you’re blocking the TV!”

“And so it appears that you, Kendall Donald Knight,” Carlos avowed, ignoring his adversary’s complaints and pointing a damning candy cane at him, “are gonna be my only mistlefoe this year!”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“C’mon, don’t be such a Scrooge!”

With a couple wild flicks of his springy Santa hat, Carlos lunged off the rickety furniture to tackle Kendall, surprising him as he stuffed the blond’s woolly beanie over his eyes and tried to wrestle him out of his cocooned blankets. But before the indignant boy could retaliate at the playful attack, a soft knock on the door interrupted their skirmishing, giving Carlos the chance to escape from Kendall’s awaiting wrath.

“Come right in!” he sing-songed, skipping over to the doorway to let their visitors in.

Carlos was greeted by the sight of their coupled girl friends evidently just back from a hectic shopping trip, carrying armfuls of shiny red and green shopping bags that made their steps slightly lope off, and their bundled layers of stylishly warm clothing worse for wear and as rumpled as the colourful tissue paper peeking out of the gift bags. But this didn’t appear to be dampening Jo and Lucy’s holiday bliss, and Kendall stumbled out of his tangled sheets with all the grace of a newborn giraffe lacking the knowledge of limb coordination to welcome them to the crib.

“‘Sup Jo, Lucy?” Carlos gave each girl a gentle hug, nearly causing them to drop some of their lugged packages. “Feliz Navidad!”

“Yeah, I hope you gals are having a great one so far!” Kendall concurred with a fond smile.

“Thanks guys, and a very Merry Christmas to you too!” Jo brightly returned, while Lucy, who had some ribboned boxes stuck between her clenched teeth, extended a wider grin and cheeky finger guns as pleasantries instead. She unceremoniously spat it out on the nearby dining table while Jo set the rest of the shopping bags down with a relieved exhale, pausing only to knead her tired arms and cradle Lucy’s cold-flushed cheeks between her palms, which startled the punk girl.

“Hey, what’s the big idea, missy?” her girlfriend fussed.

“Well, I figured it might be sore from all the present-hauling and needed a bit of gentle massaging. Do you want me to stop?”

“Not particularly, but maybe you should save the weirdo touchy-feely face-squishies for when the show ends and the curtain falls in front of the gawking audience, y’know?”

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed honey, you know these boys love being super affectionate like nobody’s business, so they won’t mind it,” Jo chuckled, tousling Carlos’s hair into messy tufted peaks and giving Kendall a friendly peck on the cheek to make her point. “Even if they are a bit weird.”

The distracted Kendall didn’t seem to hear this, as it was his turn to blow a gloating raspberry at Carlos now.

“Ha, how’s that for getting an early lead?” he taunted. “That’s what you get for disrespecting the elderly, kiddo—score, grampa Knight!”

“But it wasn’t under a mistletoe you dummy,” Carlos insisted. “And you haven’t even officially accepted the challenge yet so it totally doesn’t count for pennies—Mistletoe Match rules!”

“You literally just made that rule up right now!”

“That’s literally what rules are for!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Alright, make that a lot weird,” Jo corrected.

“Oho-kay, settle down, you two. What’s going on here?” Lucy raised a quizzical eyebrow at the squabbling boys. “And don’t you dare just say ‘Mistletoe Match’ like a wisecracking chuckletruck or I’m going John McClane on your sorry butts.”

“No need for that at all, Luce.” Carlos burst out in nervous titters, instinctively clasping at Kendall’s arm. “But basically, we’re gonna have a super crazy, intense, and yes-I-will-definitely-dare-say-it, dangerous match to see who can get more mistletoe kissies in one afternoon!”

“Ah.” Jo nodded casually, as if this were totally normal. “Of course you are.”

“I still don’t know if I actually am, though,” Kendall clarified. “I mean that scoring thing was just a joke, but maybe not the best one to make ‘cause Carlos has the processing downtime of a dinosaur’s computer.”

“Ah-ah-ah, but you haven’t even heard the best part yet!” Carlos told him.

“Oh, our bad,” Lucy earnestly said. “Please don’t tell us.”

This jab didn’t seem to faze their manic friend one bit as he continued on. “Because you see, whoever emerges the victor from our grand annual Mistletoe Match not only gets the epic title of the ‘Mistlefoe Warrior Super Champion of the World’, but also wins the loser’s cool toy and the coolest present under the Christmas tree tomorrow!”

“Hey, that is so not fair—you can’t just call stuff like that!”

“Can too—Mistletoe Match rules!”

“Bah-humbug, I hate these stupid made-up rules!” Kendall growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyed surrender. “But if it gets you to leave me alone, then fine! I’ll bite. But if I win, I also get to drink my cocoa and watch our cheesy movies in peace for the rest of the holidays without any more crazy intense dangerousness or gladiator fights or any other nutty Christmas surprises!”

“Done!” Carlos gave him a chummy pat on the back to seal the deal. “That’s the spirit, Ken-ken! ‘Cause for a second there, I really thought I was gonna have to bust out my ghost costumes and haunt you three times tonight for being such an ol’ crankypants, but god bless us all for that change of heart!”

“And, in the spirit of fairness, I suppose I’m gonna have to even out the odds here,” Lucy said as she gave Carlos a quick kiss on his forehead, making the boy squeak out in flustered awe. “Score, gladiator Garcia. That’s my good deed for Christmas off the checklist.”

“And this is also a perfect gift-giving coincidence because I managed to buy this today!” Jo exclaimed. She took a moment to rummage a green bag and pulled out a set of fake mistletoe boughs from it, before taking a golden gift bow from her parka coat’s pocket to slap on top of the packaging just to make it look extra resplendent. “I really don’t know what else to do with it, so consider it another extra present for the both of you guys, since I already gave you those custom-made hockey goal snow globes. Unless you also want...” she checked the other contents of the bag with a cursory glance, “a pair of mismatched pump heels in mid-beige suede and platform hot-pink leopard print?”

“Nah, awesome snow globes and plastic mistletoe sounds good, thanks.” Kendall graciously took the strange prize off her hands. “I’m honestly surprised you guys even managed to get these better pickings—‘cause one thing’s for sure, after that whole TK Simmons disaster where we almost lost Logan to a non-refund policy, we are so never doing last-minute Christmas shopping ever again!”

He and Carlos shuddered in unison upon reminiscing the terribly violent memory.

“Yeah, it was either knockoff decorations or the hideous Frankensteined sweater with a giant rip smack-dab across Santa Claus’s face which is hardly holly-jolly...unless you’re attending a JingleBones Holiday Bonanza Concert moshpit, which is super awesome, FYI,” Lucy answered. “And I would’ve gotten something way cooler too, but that one bi—I mean, grinch wouldn’t let go of the last box of light-up rollerskates even after I elbow-dropped her to the floor and whacked her upside with a sauté pan. The paisley tracksuit-wearing lady’s like a thousand years old and has got a grip like a monkey hanging on a dangling cliff branch for dear life!”

“Yeah, so we apologise for some of the weirder presents this year,” Jo said modestly.

“No,” Kendall assured her. “These are perfectly fine, really!”

“Well, actually...maybe just one thing,” Carlos reluctantly piped up. “Since you ladies are here anyway, we kinda really super need a couple of referees for the match to make sure that the rules are upheld and no one cheats?” he sweetly persuaded. “So if you may consider yourselves, hmmm...oh, Santa’s lovely helpers, that would be great!”

“Elves. You want us to be your elves.” Jo deadpanned.

“Consider your offer denied.” Lucy clicked her tongue sternly at the boys. “And you’re seriously using girls for a points system again? Haven’t you learned your lesson from the whole dibsing girls trouble already, or do I have to set your half-naked butts on an ultramarathon tour around Soda Springs in the middle of a horrible winter hailstorm?”

“Hey, leave me out of it,” Kendall defended. “It’s Carlos’s idea, not mine.”

“And Mistletoe Match is a historical time-honoured tradition!” Carlos reasoned out.

“Yeah, and so is the historical time-honoured tradition of putting my classical fist in smarmy people’s jerkfaces, but you don’t see me running around and doing it!” Lucy smirked. “...as much.”

She noticed the sudden absence of Carlos and whipped her head around, mildly baffled. But this mystery was just as easily solved when she finally spotted a springy santa hat wildly bouncing around Jo and Kendall’s shoulders, as the frightened wearer cowered behind the pair (and they seemed to be doing a very good job of being unintentional blondie human shields).

“Hey now, don’t worry Carlitos, I don’t mean you.” Lucy snorted lightheartedly. “Just Kendall, sometimes.”

“What?!” Kendall joined his friend in hiding behind Jo.

“I’m kidding, ya total jerkface. Or am I...?”

When the punk girl extended a hand to the boys, they both jolted in shock and reverberated in coalescing refrains of a James-Diamond-worthy mini-scream, with Carlos even leaping up on Kendall and locking into a tight embrace with him, making Lucy and Jo burst out in laughter at the ridiculous sight.

“Re-lax, boys, jeez. No one’s getting hurt today—unless your little Mistletoe Match goes completely wrong, which I guarantee it most definitely will, so save the screaming for later. But I was just gonna give you your presents,” Lucy said, and that’s when the sheepish boys spotted the pair of kraft paper-wrapped Yankee Candle products she was affably holding out to them. “Lovely scented candles for y’all! Or not so lovely, since I’m personally allergic to the stuff. Like, actually medically allergic, I’m not trying to sound like a fake baddie here or anything.”

“That’s true,” Jo corroborated. “I once tried to use that Dried Lavender and Oak candle Camille gifted me last year to freshen up my apartment after dinner and instantly heard a tornado of adorable bunny sneezes devastating the bedroom—and that was before I even lit the wick!”

Lucy tepidly scowled at her. “Girl, don’t give away state secrets like that!”

“Oh, Logie does the same thing with gerbils and some flowers and thingies though!” Carlos said. “But his sneezes aren’t really adorable. Or bunnies.”

“Yeah, you would not want him anywhere near you when the pollen count is high.” Kendall made a disgusted face. “It’s like watching a leaky red balloon getting stuffed with rolls of tissue paper and nasal steroid spray. All that constant soppiness and clogged blowouts blasting him off to the moon...we love our poor genius brother and all, but it’s very gross.”

“Well hopefully you don’t turn into accidental astronauts with these gifts, or we might seriously have to call NASA up for a scientific breakthrough patent,” Lucy joked. “Anyway, for Carlos, here’s Cottage Breeze,” she handed out the glass jar to its respective recipient, wiping away the label on the other bottle to inspect it, “and for Kendall, we’ve got...Vanilla Corndogs?”

“Swap?” Kendall proposed to Carlos and the latter wordlessly agreed, not missing a beat they tossed each other their received candles and caught it in perfect synchronicity.

“Thanks Lucy, I know Jay-jay’s gonna love this for freshening up our room!” Carlos gratefully said. “Now, about that Mistletoe Match refereeing...”

“No.” The girls swiftly rejected.

“Pretty pretty pretty please? With funfetti on top?”

“Well...he did say pretty thrice,” Jo softened at their friend’s pleas. “And I do like funfetti.”

“Seriously?” Lucy was appalled at Jo’s sudden turnaround. “But what about the terrorising girls part? You like that too?”

“If it makes it any better, the Mistletoe Match technically counts any and all kisses from anyone under the mistletoe, not just girls!” Carlos said.

Kendall grimaced. “I don’t really know if it does.”

“Just another new Mistletoe Match rule, I take it?” Jo didn’t seem all too surprised.

“Yeah, and it’s all just for festive funsies, I swear!” Carlos assured them. “We’re not gonna force anyone into giving kisses or anything bad like that, you have my honourable promise. And a Garcia never breaks a promise—except maybe for that one time with Mrs. Majacowski, but other than that, tienes mi promesa! I’ll even pinky promise you for it and everything!”

“Woah, no need for that, dude.” Lucy said. “You’re a nice kid and I trust you enough, Carlos, I really do, but as much as we would luuurve to spend our time being your glorified bean counters on Christmas Eve, I gotta pull a cheap trick here and beg out ‘cause Jo and I are kinda busy and still have some extra shopping to do.” she gently nudged her girlfriend. “Don’t we, sweetie?”

“Maybe, but I’m a bit spent from all the morning shopping already, so I wouldn’t mind a little break,” Jo replied, putting a weary hand over her forehead.

“Oh yeah, by the way, you guys aren’t heading home for the holidays?” Kendall inquired.

“Nah, can’t,” Lucy mumbled tetchily. “Galactic Records has my knitted-gloves tied behind my back like freaking string lights and I’m up to my neck in endless tour discussions and other boring contract fulfillments.”

“And I’m staying in LA this year since mom’s in England to visit some relatives on her side, and my dad has that whole secret Street Blizzard Crackdown operation thing he’s busy with in Virginia. But I’m not actually allowed to say that, so shh!!!” Jo smiled wryly. “But mostly I’m here so that Miss Stone’s heart doesn’t turn into well, stone, and she ends up going on a sleighing rampage and painting the town red with Whoville blood tonight.”

“Okay, ice princess, ease out,” the musician shot back. “And just because I wouldn’t agree to this whole insane mistletoe scam doesn’t mean that I can’t have fun!”

“Point taken, and I’m sorry...” Jo cautioned, “but you gotta admit, a Mistletoe Match sounds way more fun than spending the rest of the afternoon fighting our way through an overcrowded mall and having to brain soccer moms with a giant candy cane for the last piece of 70% off canned ham!” she stopped to consider. “Well, the fighting and braining part might actually be a lot of fun for you—but still, I don’t wanna get caught up in any more supersale madness and end up under someone’s Christmas tree!”

“And there’s really no stopping Carlitos once he gets a crazy idea rooted deep in his noggin.” Kendall shrugged. “When it comes to stubbornness, there’s no use butting heads with the metal-plated bull, so may as well just get this whole thing over with so we can all finally restore peace and harmony to the world. Or at least have a silent night.”

“Oh, try me,” Lucy simply challenged as she crossed her arms and gave everyone a dry stare, still unconvinced by their salesman spiels.

Out of advanced tactics to sway their obstinate friend, Kendall and Jo resorted to side-eyeing Carlos with a knowing look, and he fervently nodded in recognition and blinked a few times to warm himself up for the final stratagem.

“And come on, Lucy-goosey,” Jo coaxed. “Are you really gonna say no to this face?”

“And on Christmas Eve out of all times, too?” Kendall indicatively tilted his head towards Carlos, who clasped his hands pleadingly and flashed Lucy his most adorable set of quivery pout and giant doe-eyed dewy gaze. The punk girl winced from her adamant pose and tried to look away, but the smaller boy only doubled down on the pitiful puppy expression and her hardest attempts to dodge it were all but futile.

“I cannot believe I’m getting strung into another big time scheme against my better principles...” Lucy huffed out harshly. She threw a bunch of shredded tinsel at Carlos’s face at last, making him break his concentration with a loud sneeze. “Alright, I’ll go along with your stupid game—just stop it with the weird eyes already!”

“Yaaaay!” Carlos whooped. Kendall and Jo beamed at this, high-fiving each other with the patient triumph of parents finally appeasing their antsy child. “Thanks a million Luce, you won’t regret it!”

“Who says I’m not already?”

“Anyway, Ken...” Carlos’s initial zeal abruptly contorted into an offended uncertainty as he realised something else. “Heeeey, wait the boink up—what was that you just said about me and dinosaurs?”

“And there’s the Windows startup sound,” Kendall smugly said. “Just text me later when you get that joke too, okay?”

“Okay...how’s this for message received!” Carlos slapped Kendall at the back of his head, knocking his beanie clean off and sending it—and nearly Kendall himself—flying over the kitchen table.

“Hey—!” the riled blond held up two threatening fists (according to the best friend Fists Of Fury Code, of course) and began speedily edging towards Carlos, who shrieked and ducked behind Jo once more.

“Guys, we better get a move on if we wanna make it in time for Christmas dinner,” she brusquely reminded the two boys, quelling any other looming fights threatening to break out between them. “So here’s the plan. I’ll go with Kendall, and Lucy, you’ll go with Carlos, and we could just update each other on our group chat. That sound good?” When everyone assented to this, she carried on. “And as not to cause an entire pandemonium at the um, Palm Woods Colosseum and risk Kaiser Bitters kicking us out and feeding us to the lions for the holidays, it’s gonna be first to ten points wins, and I call Mistletoe Match rule on that!”

“Decreed—and the Mistletoe Match is officially on!!!” Carlos announced, hollering a cheer. He put on his helmet and loudly rapped it twice, the unmistakable signal for everyone to gear up and get ready for action. “And it starts in three...two...”

“Woah woah woah, everyone hold your dashers and prancers and vixens,” Lucy flailed her hands and interrupted the suspenseful countdown, “it’s like forty degrees outside and you guys are seriously just gonna run around Hollywood wearing your pyjamas—?”

“...One!”

“MOVE OUT!” Kendall heralded with a shout, and the frenzied trio gave an electrified headstart and hastily scrambled out of Apartment 2J, leaving only a pile of half-damaged retail goods, shredded gift wrapper, and a bemused rocker girl in their chaotic wake.

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Chapter Text

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𝟚: 𝔹𝔸𝔹𝕐 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ𝕆𝕌𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌 ℍ𝔼ℝ𝔼, 𝕀𝕋’𝕊 𝕁𝕌𝕊𝕋 𝔸ℕ𝕆𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ 𝕊𝕀𝕃𝔼ℕ𝕋 ℕ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋

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It was not off to a great start for Kendall.

Not for the first time that day, the grievous teenager wished to the brightest ends of the North Star that he was still back at the crib, mindlessly stuffing his mouth full of sugary stuff while watching schmoopy television until he started leaking caramel from his ears and fell into a contented winter coma in the warm burrows of his blanket-cave. And so what if Kendall was being a cranky grampa about it? It was supposed to be a quiet Christmas Eve, but here he was, going up against the very person he really wanted to spend it with in some skeezy Mistletoe Match—and so far, he had kissed nothing but wall siding and crammed shoulder bags and the filthy lobby carpet!

(Which, his old nemesis Jett was right for once, it was seriously way too coarse. Kendall really should’ve taken him up on his ridiculous Go Green project, then maybe it would’ve spared him the chafed elbows and nasty rug burns and the having to take a trip to the Capitol with stupid-face Stetson.)

To make things even worse, the squeaky strains of Yard Squirrels Christmas was playing on loop from the overhead speakers bedecked with red and green striped buntings, and Kendall feared the annoying tune was going to get stuck in his head for the rest of the day. But then again, Mr. Bitters must be feeling extra festive this year, as Kendall even spotted a teeny decorated Christmas tree (that might be more accurately described as a Christmas weed) atop the reception desk, along with the Carlos’s rockstar nutcracker present wrapped in colourful fairy lights, and a few hanging lint-mottled candy canes that look like they’ve been salvaged from the from the back of a dryer in the laundry room.

Despite this rather lukewarm effort, the imminent risk of a nasty musical earworm, and his piling bag-related injuries, Kendall couldn’t help but smile fondly at the festive sight anyway—his amazing baby sis really did a number on expanding their curmudgeonly apartment manager’s heart a few sizes up.

But Kendall didn’t have time to follow suit on this and take in the cheerier holiday ambiance of their residence. Amid all the chaos of the two Mistletoe Match teams scrambling down the stairs (as the elevators were far too flooded with bustling people and their humongous baggages) to begin their respective kissing quests, he found himself unwillingly caught up against the throes of suitcase-toting tenants going home for the holidays, separating him from Jo.

In between all the bag-whacking and shoe-dodging and carpet-crawling, Kendall still couldn’t find her anywhere—which was a worse problem for him than missed Elf reruns and bad bruises. He can’t risk Jo getting seriously hurt and have Lucy making good on her Die Hard sleighing rampage threat!

As Kendall continued struggling to extricate himself out of the crushing crowd, he accidentally got snagged across the torso by a massive instrument that Guitar Dude (or in his aptly holiday-themed case, Harp Dude) was lugging along with laboured effort. He was more than used to getting body-slammed from his formative years of hockey training, but the impact still knocked the wind out of him as he tripped back on his own legs and crashed against the door of a nearby supply closet, bracing himself and roughly tumbling his way inside the small room.

“Shut the door!”

A raspy voice hissed in the dark, surprising Kendall. In his disoriented state, he blindly obliged with the unexpected demand, before clumsily getting to his feet and scrabbling for the light switch to reveal who his unknown company was.

“No, whatever you do, don’t turn it on—!” a different voice (with a somehow even worse rasp than the previous one) tried to warn, but it was already too late.

The light blazed on. Kendall’s eyes reflexively screwed shut as he adjusted to the momentary painful glare. He mildly rubbed at it, turned around, and found himself face to face with James. And he would’ve said hello, except for the crucial fact that his sheepish best friend was halfway sweaterless and still mostly intertwined with yet another familiar oddball figure.

And it wasn’t one he was exactly glad to see.

“Oh, uhh—I just—ummm, you—you guys are...” Kendall stuttered, feeling his lungs sucked dry of air once more as his entire brain started to burn up at the realisation of what was going on. He blinked rapidly and tried not to ogle at the bewildering sight—why didn’t he just freaking listen?

“How’s it going?” was all he managed in his dumbfounded daze.

“Well-sies, I was trying to give Jimmy Dean here his present before I leave for my super awesome vacay party in warm and sunny Grenada and it was going great,” Jett sniffed, popping his lips disdainfully at the unwelcome intruder, “but a certain odd-faced Kendork just had to interrupt me just when the x-mas-oh show was really starting to take off and...hello??? Call you Hoops and Yoyo ‘cause you’re seriously ruining Christmas here!”

“Ohoookay...” Kendall’s lip curled in uneasy confusion. “But wait—isn’t James like, horribly sick with zombie Christmas-pocalypse strep throat right now?” he swiftly covered half his face with a fingerless-gloved hand. “And you, for that matter?”

“Really, that’s your only question?” James stared at him, bemused. “Not, ohhh I don’t know, ‘are you feeling better now, James?’ or ‘since when have you and Jett been together?’ or even ‘hey, call me crazy for this, but why is Jett wearing a friggin’ bear costume with angel wings???’”

“Oh trust me, I noticed all of that on account of having actual eyes to see with.” Kendall smiled jadedly at the pair. “I’m just honestly too afraid to ask.”

Jett loudly sucked his teeth in. “I hate to say this, but the blondie bestie has a point!”

“Woah, you’re agreeing with Kendall for once? Now that’s a true Christmas miracle!” James taunted Jett, throwing his arms up to the sky as he broke into glorious choir singing. Jett’s hand (paw?) quietly snaked out from under James’ sweater and whacked the taller boy upside on the head. James retaliated to the savage animal attack with a poisonous glare and a jabbed elbow directly at Jett’s gut, which was easily deflected by the actor’s bulky costume; all while Kendall simply watched the whole spectacle between them unfolding, his arms folded with a vague air of refined despair.

“Anyway, to answer your totally normal question, Ken...” James finally said, turning back to his friend as if nothing happened. “Yes, I’m still kinda sick, and no, I’m not a monstrous Christmas zombie—”

“But you sure do look like a monstrous chrombie!” Jett helpfully supplied, prompting a harsh exhale from Kendall while James elected to ignore him.

“...And me and Jett both have a bad case of this yucky throat thing anyway, so I guess we’re just trying to cut our losses and stuff, ‘cause eh, who am I to turn down a perfectly good Christmas gift?” James shrugged. “And I’m not just talking about the fancy sleek hand mirror I got from him, B-T-dubs.”

“Custom-ordered, meticulously-carved, and made with extra luuurve and dollar signs, of course,” Jett boasted, “only the bestest mirrors in the biz, fit for the most beautiful superstars in LA!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty sick—but not as sick as me,” James grumbled at Kendall. “‘Cause patient zero braincells over there also happened to give me an extra gift to go with it that only Doc Hollywood would love.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t resist this hot bod and these sweetest lips!” Jett indignantly seethed.

“If by ‘hot bod’ you mean a sweaty hundred-degree fever and by ‘sweet lips’ you mean they taste like gross bitter medicine and a serious case of the bad breath, then yeah, sure!” James sniped back.

“Screw you, I’m very delicious!”

“Not delicious enough to be eaten by a backyard guard tiger—and we’re still talking here, so shut it, now, forever, or I’ll call Animal Control and have your pretty little butt carted away to bear jail, thank you!!!” James snarled in finality. Jett menacingly growled at him, swinging paws at the ready to claw him down to the bone.

“Am I interrupting something here?” Kendall cut in, tone dripping with pure sarcasm. “‘Cause I feel like I’m really interrupting something here.”

“No.” James said, at the very same time Jett complained “Yes!”

“Well—what Jett said, but really though...how’d even you end up here at casa Supply Closet, bud?” James asked Kendall, as he and Jett regarded their unwitting guest inquisitively.

Kendall took a deep breath to compose himself and began to explain as best as he can (which was hardly any good anyway, since he could barely understand anything about it himself).

“Okay...so basically, Carlos roped me in for some ‘super crazy, intense, and yes-I-dare-say-it, dumb’ Mistletoe Match for the ages, and Jo and Lucy are supposed to be the acting referees—or ‘Santa’s lovely helpers’, whatever—but I kinda lost Jo in the insane crowd of the Palm Woods ‘Colosseum’ outside and then got nearly got sent to heaven by Guitar Dude’s giant harp and I’m still kinda wishing that that’s the case so please please please someone wake me up from this nightmare???”

Jett’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “You’re doing a whatie what now?”

“Pffft, Carlitos finally suckered you into playing that brutal holiday game, huh?” James snickered. “Guess he got tired of always losing out to me every single time—me, James Diamond, the undefeated Mistlefoe Warrior Super Champion of the World, so check it!” cue gladiatorial signature hand wavey move. “And honestly, considering the competition, this might finally be the little man’s year to win!”

Kendall scowled at him, affronted. “What does that mean?”

“Weeeell, no offence Kenny ol’ boy, but your dating skills have gotten super rusty,” James pointed out. “I mean, you’ve been pretty much flying solo ever since Lucy and Jo and that one date with the new girl in 5K a couple months ago—you know, the one where Carlos interrupted the whole thing with his own personal romantic disaster, and you guys tried to make your own popcorn and ended up neck-deep in butter and nearly burning down Arrow Theatres...and in Hollywood years, that was like, forever ago!”

“A-hah, the poor tragic scamp!” Jett chortled heartily at this revelation, punctuating it with a mad coughing fit that sounded like it hurt a lot. James had to swoop in to his rescue, consolingly rubbing the actor on his furry slash feathery back just so he could proceed with the roasting. “I mean, to be dumped by such stunning, talented, and wonderful ladies—and for each other, no less? I feel almost sorry for you, Kendall! Almost as much as I feel sorry for that ugly disjointed stitched rag you’re wearing...”

Jett squinted at the worn-in pyjama shirt Kendall was adamantly covering his lower face with and scratchily tutted in distaste. “Like seriously, have you never actually heard of luxury brand names?”

“Yeah, ha-ha, unlucky me,” Kendall groused. “And that’s why I gotta beat Carlos at his own Mistletoe Match, so that I could prove to him that I am not a lonely grampa Scrooge who doesn’t deserve kissies—and also I just wanna get this whole stupid game over with so that he would calm his crazy sweatpants and we could at least still catch The Nightmare Before Christmas tonight!”

Out of steam, he sighed and slumped back against the door miserably. “I mean, I love Carlos and his wild ideas as much as the next crazy person, I really do...but all I really wanted was to just have a nice afternoon in with him. I even took the time to get the crib all chill and set up and everything, but he pretty much destroyed it with one elvish kick. Like, he didn’t even pay attention to his favourite sugarplums and cheesy jalapeño popcorn that I prepared just for him...”

“Oh, so it was like a ruined Christmas date!” Jett brightly said. “Like the one James and I are having right now because of you!”

“Yes! Wait, no—a-ha!” Kendall glared suspicious daggers at him. “That’s gotta be a trick question...isn’t it?”

“That would entirely depend on your answer—and by the sounds of it, I’m guessing you’re the only one in the room that doesn’t get it yet,” James cryptically said as he shot Jett a knowing wink. But his boyfriend’s expression appeared to be just as endearingly blank as his best friend’s. “Okay, nevermind! But this closet is seriously a Christmas miracle goldmine, ‘cause I think I’m actually the smartest one for once here.” he paused, thoughtfully cocking his head. “Well...just don’t tell Logiebear about it, or he’s gonna get all riled up about defending his brainiac honour and we’re gonna end up having a crammed super Hollywood super-party of four here.”

“Oh nuh-uh—Jett Stetson don’t roll that way even if you say super twice, babe!”

“Ugh, don’t be gross.” James exasperatedly rolled his eyes at the haughty boy. “And let me see...if I’m remembering Carlos’s wacky made-up rules right, any kiss under the mistletoe does count as a point, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah...” Kendall distrustfully backed away from James until his lower spine collided with the doorknob, but he didn’t dare give himself the satisfaction of a pained groan. It was bad enough if someone witnessed his whole humiliating harp-bodycheck-fiasco in the lobby, but he didn’t need any outlandish, career-ending, not-safe-for-boyband rumours flying abound in celebrity gossip channels about him and James and Jett! “Where are you going with this?”

“Definitely not where you want it to go!” James hastily assured. “Like, don’t get me wrong dude, I would kiss you if only to spite Carlos, but Jett’s an overly-jealous brand of moron and this whole thing is kinda already super weird enough as it is.” he vaguely gestured to the three of them and shook his head wryly. “Also, the—the whole chrombie throat thing too. Especially that.”

“And I also would offer you one just so I could fulfill my holiday charity pledge to help save the caribou, but I fortunately don’t kiss unattractive people!” Jett piped up.

James beamed at him. “Aww, thanks!”

“Shut that flapper—you’re still in second place for hottest person at the Palm Woods, Diamond boy.”

“Oh? You really wanna shut my flapper, Jett-ski?” James smirked, teasingly inclining Jett’s chin with a challenging finger until their lips were barely grazing. “Someone’s so going on the naughty list.”

“Okay yeah nahhh, I think I’m good, don’t mean to roar up the wrong tree or—or ruffle any feathers here so thanks for the...um, kindly offer though, the both of you!” Kendall blanched away from the flirting couple, protectively clamping his hands over his mouth again before they had a magical change of heart. And gave him a cursed bacterial infection to jumpstart The Night Before Christmas of the Living Dead to go with it. “I mean, I really gotta go look for Jo anyway, she must be wondering where I disappeared to already! And I might actually need to pull a disappearing act after this, if I get in major trouble with her and Lucy...” he shuddered.

“Ugh, whatevs—the small chit chat has been unpleasant and all, but you’ve overstayed your welcome here and now I could bear-ly stand you!” Jett cackled proudly. “Huh, huuuh, get it? ‘Cause I’m wearing a bear costume!” When his long-suffering audience didn’t laugh at his lame joke, he repeated, “Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time, so let me say that louder for the people in the back: bear-ly!!!”

Kendall buried his anguished face so deep beneath his palms he was sure he wouldn’t resurface from it until New Year. “I really didn’t hold out much hope for it in the first place, but gee that was gruff.” he lamented. “There goes Jett’s future Hollywood prospect as a stand-up comic.”

“But he wouldn’t need a sense of humour—or an actual working brain—to be a future clown,” James generously observed. “So at least he’s still got that going for him. Plus, bear in mind that he is a really good kisser—ooh ooh ooh, how about a clown kissogram???”

“That’s just...really disturbing. I’d be scared of clowns forever like Carlos if that ever happens.” Kendall shook his head gravely. “But nice joke—it’s miles ahead than Jett’s shtick, at least.”

“...What joke?”

“The joke of you being the smartest person in the room right now.” Kendall peevishly grinned at James, “‘Cause I’m effectively revoking that title from you and gift-wrapping it so that I could properly return it to Logan.”

“Oh, har-dee-har-har, whatever...I still hold the title of undefeated Mistlefoe Warrior Super Champion of the World right now, and you’re so not gonna take that from me today, Knight!” James avowed, blowing a very wet raspberry in revenge.

“Ew ew ew—germsgermsgerms—” Kendall recoiled in disgusted horror and aggressively tried to fend the infected spit away from his precious breathing space, “dude, watch the freaking germs!!!”

“And there’s a lot more where that came from, smarty-mouth!”

“Guys, come onnn, I’m giving so much here that I could literally save every last endangered creature in Mrs. Claus’ barn...” Jett whined as he pressed on with his horrific comedy bend, completely resistant to their bombed reviews, “I mean, the both of you are seriously unbearlievable!”

“Oh, for the love of fu—!” Kendall groaned sharply, the rest of his not-safe-for-boyband outcries truncated by the clanging of a baked beans tin can he kicked away in sheer annoyance. Meanwhile, James only bit at his clenched fist in a restrained way that only a murderous feral undead can.

“Hey grizzly-babe,” he implored in a dangerously low and rugged voice, “I love you, but I swear I’m personally gonna skin you and turn you into the best-looking rug at the Palm Woods to put in front of our fireplace if you’re gonna keep up the horribly stupid dad puns, got it?”

Jett looked like he’d just been slapped with a wet salmon.

“Did you...” He forcefully lumbered James against a corner, primed to maul him to pretty-faced shreds and singlehandedly fly them to the afterlife altogether, which made Kendall’s stomach drop in pure dread. Listen, he wasn’t about get trapped in a 400-square feet arena and play Santa’s lovely helper to some kind of off-the-cuff Holiday Hoedown between Chrombie James Diamond vs. Bloodthirsty Beast Jett Stetson—he hadn’t even started playing Mistletoe Match yet and he’d already had enough insane gladiator-themed games for one day, thanks very much!

“...Did you just say you love me?”

“What?!?!? Nonononono—no I didn’t!!!” James stammered, tittering and shrinking back in an overly-mortified luxury brand of moron. “I—I mean, I dunno—M-maybe I did. Maybe I do? Like, really, seriously, really, ahaha...April Fools???”

“Well, call me crazy for this, ‘cause I really seriously really April Fools you too, my monstrous honey-angel.” Jett whispered back as he smothered James in a giant bear hug, squeezing a hoarse mini-scream out of him.

The naturally pink-flushed singer blushed a deep poinsettia red as Jett giddily spun him around and around, and celestially jubilant music drifted into the stuffy room as the carouselling boys knocked over everything but the kitchen sink (that Buddha Bob probably put on the backburner for repairing) and Kendall (who had to practically become one with the wall if he didn’t want a moon-sending flying kick from James—but he was honestly considering it the best of all possible outcomes at that point).

“Hey um, Mr. Holly and Jolly...” Kendall hemmed, narrowly managing to duck away from James’ soaring Buster Clyde sneakers, “This is a really sweet moment and everything and I’m super happy for the both of you, I really am...but also, I really shouldn’t be here ruining your Lifetime movie moment like a total creep—” he pummeled the door panel with an insistent heel and shouted, “and Guitar—I mean, Harp Dude, I don’t know what you’re doing out there, but this is literally all your fault and the darn music’s really not making me feel any better!”

“Oh—I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were like, in there, my guy!” The muffled dulcet strings screeched to a wobbly halt as the musician apologetically called out to Kendall from outside the lobby. “And I’m just practicing for this super dope nativity play gig thing I got going on at the Lounge Theatre! ‘Cause it’s gonna be our second show tonight, and it’s gonna be so rad, like tight! Woah...that rhymed...right on!” Guitar Dude paused from his brainstorming to thoughtfully pluck a few notes. “Or...on right???”

“Well then do it somewhere else that’s not an overdone comedic punchline—” Kendall interjected, getting painfully whipped in the cheek with James’ silk scarf right as a harp string broke with a sour snap and a twang! sound effect. “Ow!!! Like that! Here, I’ll even join you if you want!”

Kendall fumbled for the doorknob, just as Jett was settling down from the enamoured excitement and James was looking more fir-green as he held onto a shelf for dear life to catch his footing. But in Kendall’s baby giraffe-thrashing and flailing to give the pair some well-needed privacy and finally hightail it out of there, a lone bough of plastic mistletoe managed to escape from the confines of his chest pocket, floating in slow motion and landing perfectly on Jett’s fuzzy shoulder.

“Ooooh, mistletoe!” Jett eagerly said as he pounced up on James and peppered him with attacks from his lips again, making the taller boy lose his flimsy balance and crash backwards into the shelf, showering them both with used mop-heads and soggy toilet rolls.

“Hey, you just made me snag my lucky sweater—you’re so paying for that, Yogi Brat!” James snapped, but his threat was rendered ineffectual by their coalescing smitten laughter and the way James lofted Jett’s bear-suited hips and coasted the actor up on his waist to deepen their tender kiss.

“I’ll uh...I’ll leave you two lovebirds—er, lovebears???—alone now...” Kendall cleared his throat at them, silently hoping that the North Star did wish do-overs because now all he really wanted was to squinch smaller and smaller into the very depths of his poor soul until he disappeared forever. “Bye!”

His awkward farewells were all but ignored by James and Jett. Kendall didn’t dare turn around again as he sedately opened the door by a tiniest sliver and wriggled past the small space. At last, he gawkily tumbled back into the lobby, aching all over from the impromptu gymnastic routine but finally relieved to be free of the secondhand embarrassment. And the chrombie throat germs, too—especially that.

Kendall sat on the coarse carpet for a listless minute, before unsteadily standing up and making sure to securely lock the door behind him. He didn’t wanna find out what the rest of those intensifying crashing sounds were, and he sure as baked beans didn’t want the rest of the Palm Woods to see that the resident pretty boys were giving their true love countless makeout sessions (...and a partridge in a pear tree) all the way to the 12th day of Christmas.

Guitar Dude was sitting a mere few paces away from the supply closet, apparently busy with restringing and polishing the golden pillar of his troublesome harp. He paused from his tasks once he noticed Kendall standing frozen and cheerily shook out two devil-horned hands in greeting.

“‘Suuuuup?” he drawled amiably. Kendall was still too stunned to manage any kind of reply beyond an indecipherable mumble. “My Kendude, It’s Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer piece practice times while I try to work on some more spankin’ Chriz-mizz rhymes! Oh—like that!”

Guitar Dude whipped out a pair of silver jingle bells from his winter jacket and gave them a good shake or two to warm up. But before he could hand it over to Kendall, he was instantly swept away by another swarming vacationer tidal wave, his bardic cries for help and the chiming bells fading away to another encore of the obnoxious pitched-up squirrel singing from the speakers.

“Oh, there you are!”

A lilting voice called out to Kendall, finally managing to snap him out of his trance. He looked around and spotted Jo waving an outstretched arm at him, blonde curls and bobble hat flouncing as she politely egged her way through the clearing throng of people.

“I kinda lost you in the crowd for a bit there! And I would’ve found you sooner, but I also had to help hide Tyler in an express parcel box, ‘cause apparently his mom’s making him star in a last-minute crocheted underwear doily commercial before they left for Indiana just so she could have something to show the old folks back home,” Jo explained as he approached Kendall. “He’s totally safe for now, though. That is, until the feisty cheek-pinching aunties get to him. Good luck hiding from that, Ty.”

“Jo, oh thank the North Star, you are such a sight for sore throat—I mean, sore eyes!” The relieved Kendall swept her in a giant (non-bear) embrace, startling her. “I’m just so glad that you haven’t gotten stampeded over by a herd of luggage—or, or beaten to a pulp by evil clothes bags—or even worse...suckered by Harp Dude into being the backup instrumentals for his weird Christmas play!”

“Alright, settle down Kenny, I’m perfectly alright,” The flustered girl assured with a laugh. “But hey, you’ve been gone for a while, and you’re kinda looking pretty rough right now. What happened to you? Have you gotten any Mistletoe Match victims yet? Or more likely...have they gotten you?”

Jo’s mirthful gibes bounced off Kendall, and she stopped in her tracks once she saw his face entirely drained of blood and noticed the unusual racket resounding from the supply closet behind him.

“And...is there anything else I need to know?” she asked, curiously eyeing the locked door.

“Oh, trust me,” Kendall replied with a slight shiver, locking elbows with Jo and resolutely marching the both of them away from the jam-packed lobby. “You really don’t wanna know.”

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