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Matthew knew that Santa wasn’t a real guy since, well, birth. The concept of a man who eats only cookies and drinks only milk flying through the sky on a sleigh led by reindeers is enough to stop a believer, but it seems his parents and his brother won’t stop believing in Santa.
His parents — Arthur and Francis, both ‘believed’ in Santa. Matthew thinks that they’re only keeping up this facade because their children are still young but seeing Arthur snicker and roll his eyes at every exaggerated elf on the shelf act that Francis does makes Matthew totally believe that at least Arthur doesn’t believe in Santa.
Also, he knew the elf on the shelf act was Francis because the note left by their elf was written in a rather fancy handwriting. Who would believe an elf with stick arms could write cursive?
His brother, on the other hand, is a true believer of the jolly old man. Nothing can break Alfred’s pure innocence and joy of the holidays and quite literally every special occasion that features a ‘mascot’ ? Mascot? Person? Creature? Whatever was the correct term.
Regardless, Matthew does not dare tell his brother that Santa is in fact not real. He wouldn’t want Christmas and his brother to get sad.
So when Alfred wakes him up shortly after their bedtime to ‘catch Santa’, Matthew unfortunately has to agree.
”Look, I set up a really cool plan here!” Alfred raises up a notebook with a crayon sketch of the house layout. Their bedroom, their parents’ bedroom, the living room, and the kitchen.
Matthew nods his head, still sleepy.
”Okay, I made sure to ask dad to buy extra cookies but I didn’t tell him it was for Santa because what if Santa can tell that we told adults?” Alfred grins as if he’s been theorising this for a while now. It’s likely he has. “After dinner, I put a plate of cookies by the table in our hallway and then we’ll set the cookies up on the edge of the table in front of the fireplace so we can wait outside the door and watch Santa come down the chimney and give us our gifts!”
Matthew blinks, “You just want to catch Santa in the act?”
He thought Alfred would want to talk with Santa and all.
”Yeah, I mean, he’s a busy guy,” Alfred nods seriously, “I’d be happy just to see Santa!”
That’s something Matthew can’t argue with.
”Alright.” He grins and Alfred happily high fives him.
Silently tip-toeing down the hall with the plate of cookies in Alfred’s hands, the two siblings make their way to the living room.
To their surprise, the double French doors were already slightly open and the unmistakable smell of a burning fire was clear in the air.
That was bad. Their parents always reminded them to not have a fire while asleep.
”Alfred!” Matthew whisper-yelps for the attention of his younger brother, “Someone’s in the living room!”
Alfred squeaks and slides over to the very edge of the French doors, signalling for Matthew to follow his stealth ninja slides until the two are on the floor huddled up by the door to the living room.
“It’s Santa,” Alfred says so certainly that Matthew almost believes him.
Then Alfred takes a quick peek inside.
And he swiftly retracts his head to face Matthew with glimmering eyes and a wide open mouth.
”I saw Santa,” Alfred gasps, dropping the plate of cookies to the ground and putting his hands on Matthew’s shoulders, “And he was kissing papa. On the lips.”
”That’s impossible!” Matthew yelps, “Papa said he only lets dad kiss him on the lips!”
Alfred shrugs.
Matthew, in shock, moves Alfred to take a peek.
Alfred was right! It was actually Santa! And Santa was kissing Francis!
Matthew squeaks and hides behind the doors again. This couldn’t be right! Santa wasn’t supposed to be real! And what would Arthur say about this if he found out?!
“We can’t tell dad,” Alfred shakes his head, “Never tell him we saw papa kissing Santa Claus.”
”Or was Santa Claus kissing him?” Matthew mumbles.
Then he hears Francis laugh. A giggle, really, and it’s so soft and full of that fuzziness like when he’s with Arthur that Matthew just has to check if what he was seeing was real.
Francis pulls away from Santa and reaches a hand to knock off the hat to reveal…
Blond hair?
Huh?
Matthew squints.
Santa… looked a lot like Arthur.
Now that he examined the situation closely, the red uniform looked a bit too loose on Santa’s now terribly skinny figure and Santa definitely did not have scrappy blond hair.
Francis whispers something to ‘Santa’ before putting his arms around ‘Santa’ and leaning in close to rest his head on ‘Santa’s’ shoulders.
Matthew was starting to understand now… he thinks.
Santa was really just… oh.
Taking a long sigh of relief, Matthew reports back to Alfred.
If he told his brother that Santa was actually just Arthur and that the kiss they saw was just their parents being lovey dovey, Alfred would be heartbroken at not catching Santa more than the belief that Francis was kissing Santa.
Instead, Matthew decides to play along, just for now.
”It’s real. Santa’s really kissing papa!” Matthew says in a high pitched exasperated voice to which Alfred gasps.
“No way…” Alfred breathes, “Does this mean we really gotta listen to papa because he’s friends with Santa?”
”Guess so,” Matthew frowns. That meant bedtime.
And so the two walk back to their bedroom with new thoughts.
Just as Matthew was passing by the window, he sees a flashing light run across the sky.
He squints.
And lo and behold, the red sleigh flying through the air carrying a jolly man with gifts.
Is that…
If Francis and Arthur were in the living room—
Was that really Santa Claus?!
“We saw Santa Claus last night!” Alfred fervently explains during breakfast the next morning when Francis finally comes back to the dining table from cooking omelettes.
“I hope you don’t mean you stayed up to see Santa,” Arthur warns. He was especially strict with bedtime.
Alfred’s eyes widen at the possibility of being caught past bedtime.
”I mean- in a dream! We saw Santa in a dream!” Alfred explains nervously, though Arthur must know it’s a lie.
Arthur’s eyes glance towards Francis, who only gives him a rather mischievous smile in return.