Chapter Text
When memories snow
And cover up the driveway
I shovel all those memories
Clear the path to drive to the store
-
“WHO put YOU in charge of Christmas tree duty?” Tenna asked, jabbing an elephantine finger into Spamton’s chest. “That is MY thing, mister!”
Tenna didn’t seem to be aware of his own strength, and Spamton stumbled backwards. He put his hands on Tenna’s own, lowering it away.
“Surprise…?” Spamton announced, unsure. Tenna let out an exasperated growl. Spamton put his hands up in surrender, backing away. “Eahaha, easy, buddy! I just thought you needed something a bit more modern. I added a dosage of that famous Spamton G. Spamton charm, see?”
“Modern,” Tenna repeated slowly, as if getting a feel for how the word sounded.
Pippins skittered back and forth around the Christmas tree like little elves. They circled it, throwing their string lights in the air like ballerinas with ribbons, tangling both the tree and themselves in a sparkling, dazzling entwinement. If their bosses weren’t looming over them, they wouldn’t possibly be working—no, rushing as madly as they were doing. It was to a point that they kept tripping over lights and ramming into each other, acting much more like dominos than the dice that they were.
Tenna sighed. “Spammy, c’mon. Look, I love modern! I’m the epitome of modern! And the lights are fun, BEDAZZLING! But what do you take me for? A Holiday?”
“You sure act like one. All sickeningly sweet.”
That got a smile out of Tenna, and Spamton grinned in achievement.
“Aww, haha, glad you think so! But I’m a DREEMURR through and through, bucko! And THIS—” he waved wildly over to the tree, “—is NOT a Dreemurr Christmas tree! What happened to Toriel’s classic white Christmas? Where are the baubles and trinkets? Lights are too showy! Too… electronic.”
“Alright, watch it,” warned Spamton.
“Nothing—nothing against electronics,” Tenna sputtered quickly, crossing his arms and looking to the side.
“I hope not!” Spamton said. “Not with your good pal Spamton here, huh? And definitely not with Asgore’s new Christmas lights, ehaha.”
“His, uh, what?”
“Lights? They’re the talk of the town, Tenna. Don't tell me you haven't heard.”
Tenna’s antennas perked up, his smile weakening. He looked to be caught off guard. All of a sudden he turned around, his back facing Spamton. “You know what? Alright, fine,” he said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “Keep the lights.”
Spamton would’ve let him go if it weren’t for his unmistakable shrinking.
“What? Hey, buddy, wait. You obviously don’t like them,” Spamton said, walking around Tenna’s turned back to look up at his face. He was still smiling, but it was strained.
“No, no!” Tenna insisted. “Lights are IN this year! Apparently!”
“So you do want them?”
Tenna gave him a look, his antennas downturned.
Spamton pinched his forehead, shaking his head with a chuckle. “C’mon Tenna, what the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s a yes or no question.”
“If Asgore wants it that way, I’m ON BOARD!” he announced. “LIGHTS, MUSIC, CELEBRATION! Who wouldn’t want it?”
“But you don’t like them,” said Spamton.
“I don’t NOT like them,” he responded, failing not to sound disappointed.
“So…” Spamton was lost.
“But if the Dreemurrs want them, that’s fine!”
“Tenna, cut the crap. This is your tree. And it’s just a tree,” Spamton assured. “I thought the lights would be a nice surprise, but nobody cares about this as much as you do. Nobody else is thinking too hard about it. Do whatever the hell you want with it.”
Spamton’s reassurances did little to nothing. Tenna reached a hand up his tie, beginning to fidget. He twirled the end around his fingers. “What if Toriel prefers the lights?”
“You need permission from her or something?”
“TCH. NO,” Tenna scoffed, laughing and shaking his head. “Permission! Haha! Funny!! It's not like lights are X-RATED! I’m just—uh, the ornaments. What to do with them? If we switch to lights?”
“Keep them in their box,” Spamton shrugged.
“Right. Right. Just. Stuff them in the closet to be forgotten, then,” Tenna said, giving a disgustingly forced smile. “Even the ones I painted myself…”
“Oh, quit whining already! No one is forcing you to do lights.”
Tenna nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. …Yeah. I know.”
“Really, I’m asking, do you need permission or something?” Spamton smiled, concerned. Before Tenna could respond, he took in a breath, scrounging his memory for bits and pieces of Toriel’s voice. “[Christmas ornaments] [would be] [justt]TT [darling], [Wwould] [thEy not]? …Feel better now?”
Tenna frowned. “Worse, actually. Your voice thing is weird! Freaks me out.”
“Well?”
“We can keep the lights,” Tenna said again. “Really, they’re fine. You were trying to surprise me, after all! How can I refuse a surprise?”
“Maybe next time I’ll try out a surprise you’ll actually enjoy,” Spamton grumbled.
“I do enjoy it. Just…”
“Here, I have a better surprise,” said Spamton. “Lean down.”
Tenna leaned down.
“C’mon, further,” Spamton prodded.
Tenna, confused, bowed low so that Spamton could reach him. Spamton put two hands on each side of his screen and suddenly drew him into a kiss. Tenna was so warm in the freezing cold. Perks of having an internal heating system. When they parted, Spamton gave a boastful smile. Tenna had turned pink. He stood up, brushing his suit off.
“Well! Aheh,” Tenna stammered, looking around nervously. He was so easily flustered. “And you call ME cheesy.”
“Unprofessional?”
“Sappy!” Tenna agreed.
“Please, you were born a sap. You like it. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”
“If I’m a sap, you’re a cad,” Tenna teased, straightening his tie.
“Sounds about right, eahaeha!”
Tenna grinned at him.
A few days later, The Dreemurs decorated their house for Christmas. Stockings, angels, and festive streamers lined the walls. The new lights, however, did not touch the tree at all. They went outside on the roof. The ornaments were hung in their traditional place.
Tenna gathered his workers and redecorated his tree to match. If Spamton was disappointed, he didn’t say anything. After that, their holidays went rather well.