Christmas Loathing

By Shiraishi Mayumi

"I hate Christmas," The brunette muttered under his breath. He lifted a small glass containing a mysterious bluish green liquid and pressed it to his lips. He let the aftertaste of it dance across his mouth, stinging at his lip with that wonderful buzz echoing throughout his mind with each throb of his lip. He inhaled the liquid deeply before taking another shot, and replacing the glass.

Schuldich raised an orange eyebrow. "Oi, Nagi, do you think you should be drinking that much? You’re underage, ya know."

"Go to hell, Schuldich."

The German laughed. "That’s like telling Jesus to die on the cross kid. 'S already a guaranteed thing."

Nagi just snorted and returned to his drinking. "Like you care anyway. Me being underage never stopped you before."

"True, true," Schuldich admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I have been a rather bad boy, haven’t I? Then again," He grinned slyly at the younger boy. "So’ve you."

"Which is why I hate Christmas."

"Aww... don’t be a party pooper, Nagikins!" The redheaded feigned, and very well, might I add, a pout and looked up at the Japanese boy with big, blue eyes.

He scowled in return. "That looked worked the first time, Schuldich, but it won’t work again. Do you have any idea what Crawford would do to me if he found out what we were doing with our ‘rest time’?"

"He won’t care, really," Schuldich insisted, feeling the boy begin to give. "Honestly, he’d probably just be disappointed that he didn’t get to join us."

"Yeah, right. Then how come you never invite him, huh?"

Glancing around quickly, the redhead looked hesitantly at the fifteen year old in the booth across from him. "You wanna know, really?" When his companion didn’t reply, Schuldich took it as an affirmative and continued, "He’s no good at it. Nowhere near as good as you are, anyway. But don’t tell him I said that," He said quickly, "Bradley would have my head."

Nagi raised an eyebrow at the apparently overlooked pun, but refrained from commenting on it. Besides, he was too drunk. "You’re never gonna leave me alone, are you?"

Schuldich grinned, flashing brilliant white teeth. "Nope. C’mon, Liebe, it only happens once a year..."

"I hate Christmas."

"Y’know, you’re worse than Farf and that God thing. ‘I hate Christmas’ this, and ‘I hate Christmas’ that," He lifted his own glass, plain, straight bourbon, and took a shot. "Besides, you’re already starting it now."

"No, I’m just trying to get myself drunk enough so I won’t notice how long you take. You always take such a long time, and I’m forced to just sit there and take it, again and again..." He ran thin, pale fingers through his hair. "And I hate it! So..." He took another shot. "The more I drink, the faster it’ll go, and the faster I can just go home."

"Good! Then you will?"

Nagi sighed. "I don’t have a choice, do I?" He met Schu’s bright blue eyes with his own unsteady almond ones. "All right, all right... but this is the last time, okay?"

"Schließlich!" Schuldich cheered, and patted Nagi on the shoulder. "You’re the best, mein herz. You won’t regret this." He grinned and reached into his coat pocket.

"Somehow I doubt that..." He muttered.

Schuldich unfolded a crumbled piece of white paper and smoothed it out on the table. "The Schwarz Drinking Game, Christmas edition! All right, first one is... ‘One shot for each time you heard the Farf curse Santa today.’"

Nagi groaned, and took seven shots. "I hate Christmas..."