Hey there, people. How goes it?

Not too fine, in my case >.< University's been hectic and I have finals in January. I have no fucking idea why we can't have finals in December like normal people. Must be a med school thing, to torture the everliving fuck out of the poor bastards that for some reason chose it as a profession -.-

In any case, I've been getting real busy in the spirit of Christmas and all that (read: drawing people under mistletoe for the pure, sadistic fun of it), which in itself is weird because I'm Muslim and we don't do Christmas. But whatever.

The following piece of writing was inspired by my thoughts on mistletoe and awkwardness. I did some art too, which I'll include in the story.

Enjoy :)

-x-

Adventures in Mistletoe

1

Dave finishes attaching the mistletoe wreath to the top of the doorway, and turns to look at Joe. “Are you done yet?” he asks, and Joe nods, grinning evilly.

“Camera all set up and ready to roll,” he declares.

“Awesome,” cackles Dave. “This should be fun.”

They've put up mistletoe and hidden a camera nearby- time to wait and watch for inevitable awkwardness and hilarity to ensue.

2

Around an hour or two after the mistletoe is set up in the entrance to the studio, Brad and Rob walk in together. Rob's car broke down a couple weeks ago and he still hasn't gotten round to getting it fixed, which means Brad has to drive him everywhere. Including to the studio and back, which is why they enter together right now.

From the control room (which is actually a secluded corner with a laptop set up for surveillance), Joe grins as he watches. Neither of them have noticed the mistletoe yet, but it won't be too long now.

Sure enough, Rob glances up and then groans to himself. “What is it?” asks Brad, and in reply, Rob just jerks his head upwards.

“Oh, shit.” An appropriate reaction, thinks Joe, considering the situation they've landed themselves in.

Rob's face is pink, and it's clear that he's struggling with his options. To break tradition by not kissing, or to keep it alive by kissing the walking hairball that was Brad?

Brad is looking from the mistletoe to Rob and then back again, evidently struggling with the same problem himself. He can either ignore it, or he can just kiss Rob and be done with it. Which, by the way, he's not going to do even on pain of death. First off, Rob's his friend. He doesn't want to ruin that. Secondly- Rob's a notoriously bad kisser, if his ex-girlfriend's complaining is anything to go by.

After a minute of strained thinking, Brad comes up with a solution. He looks at Rob, and says, as Joe leans forward eagerly in his chair, “We're Jewish. We don't even have to do this.”

Rob's relief is palpable, and he sighs happily. “This never happened,” he tells Brad.

“Agreed.”

They walk in, and Joe groans in disappointment.

3

“Anything?” questions Dave when he finds Joe hunched over in the surveillance corner, an hour later.

Joe shakes his head morosely. “Brad and Rob decided they were Jewish, and refused to uphold a very ancient, very entertaining tradition. Rick walked in some time ago with a studio assistant, but they didn't see the mistletoe at all, and no one pointed it out to them. Anna came to bring Mike his wallet, which he'd forgotten at home, but she came alone. Two studio assistants walked under, but they didn't kiss.”

“What about Chester and Mike?” asks Dave. “They haven't been under yet?”

“Not together, no,” Joe answers. “Mike came alone, and Chester entered five minutes later. Neither of them even saw it.”

“Maybe we should scrap the plan,” says Dave. “It doesn't seem to be working.”

“Let's give it one more try,” Joe decides. “If no one kisses before lunchtime, we'll chuck the plan.”

Dave agrees.

4

Chester passes under the mistletoe thrice after that, and Mike four times. Neither of them kisses anything or anyone.

Rick comes and goes, and adamantly refuses to kiss whoever is with him. It's probably a good thing anyway- whoever has the misfortune to kiss Rick will probably get lost in his massive beard, thinks Joe.

He thinks he'll give Rick a shaver for Christmas. And maybe a haircut. Or maybe he'll suggest a perm. Whatever works.

By 11 AM he is getting disheartened, and so is Dave, because no one sees the mistletoe, or else just doesn't kiss. It's disappointing and frustrating, but Joe isn't ready to give up, not yet.

5

At noon it is Dave himself who gets caught under the mistletoe with Mike, and Joe grins, because finally something is happening. He leans forward and watches as Dave blushes and stutters, while Mike just looks amused.

“Calm down,” Mike finally says. “I'm not going to kiss you.”

Dave relaxes visibly. “Thank God.”

“You're not my type anyway,” Mike grins, and leaves. Dave is left standing in the doorway and making rude gestures towards where he knows the camera is hidden. It doesn't stop Joe from laughing any harder, though.

6

At half past twelve they switch duty, and Dave watches the screen while Joe roams around, on the prowl for any potential victims. Chester and Mike are hard at work, writing or doing whatever it is they do, and Brad has left for the bathroom. Rob is tinkering around with his drums. Rick has refused to come to the studio unless the stupid mistletoe is taken down.

Joe thinks maybe he'll go get himself a coffee, and has just moved towards the doorway when Brad returns from his bathroom break. This time, instead of using his Jewishness as an excuse, Brad grins widely.

“Hello, Joe,” he says wickedly, and Joe swallows.

“Please don't kiss me,” he mutters, and Brad grins even wider.

“Aw, but you're so cute!” says Brad in a baby voice. Joe cannot remember what he has done to deserve this. Maybe he was Hitler in a previous life- that is the only sin he can think of that is worthy of a hairy smooch from Brad.

Maybe it's Brad's way of avenging the Holocaust.

“Don't touch me,” warns Joe, “or I'll kill you.” He hopes Brad does not detect the waver in his voice.

“Oh please,” scoffs Brad. “You couldn't kill a hamster.” He moves closer, and before Joe can make a move to defend himself, plants a wet one on his cheek.

“Ew!” yells Joe, pushing him off. “Jesus Christ, Brad! You're disgusting!”

Brad just grins maddeningly and leaves. Joe swears revenge, but not before he shows the hidden camera his middle finger. He doesn't have to look to know Dave is laughing his ass off.

7

It is 2 PM that brings the greatest surprise. Mike announces a lunch break, and Joe is ready to switch off his laptop in disappointment when Dave's hand on his arm stops him. He looks up to the screen to see Mike and Chester approaching the doorway.

There may be hope yet, he thinks. He hopes.

It's Chester who looks up first. “Mistletoe,” he points out.

Mike isn't amused this time; rather his face is pink and he looks nervous as hell. This is most unusual, notes Dave. “Let's just go,” mutters Mike, looking anywhere but at Chester.

“You really don't like mistletoe, do you?” asks Chester with a knowing smile.

“Bad high school memories,” is Mike's reply. “Let's just say mistletoe and glasses don't mix well.”

Chester laughs, and Mike looks up against his will. It's always nice to hear Chester laughing- he just sounds so joyful when he does it. “But you don't wear glasses anymore,” he points out.

“Yeah,” Mike says, and touches the bridge of his nose unconsciously, half-expecting to find a pair of glasses there. “I don't, do I?”

Chester chuckles again. “No, you don't. Wonderful powers of observation, Mike.”

Mike blushes again, and mumbles something unintelligible at his feet. He looks up again to find Chester a lot closer to him. Before he can stutter out an inquiry Chester presses his lips to Mike's in a soft, chaste kiss, and then takes one step backward. “That wasn't so bad now, was it?” he asks with a smile, and then walks off.

Mike is left standing in the doorway, the faint taste of strawberries and soda on his lips, and his heart beating erratically. When he finally does come to his senses, he takes off after Chester- he's still hungry and besides, he remembers seeing another wreath of mistletoe hanging over the doorway of the nearest Wendy's.

8

“Oh, my God,” mutter Dave and Joe in unison as they replay the video for the twenty-ninth time.

-x-

Yes, I know I'm crazy. No need to point it out, thank you.

If you enjoyed the story and the drawings, please review :D if not, review anyway- as always, constructive criticism is appreciated!

Merry Christmas, my lovelies <3

-Remy