Chapter Text
Stanley opened his eyes. He was sitting in his office chair, his computer in front of him as always. He stood up and exited his office.
He took a look around the communal office space and was not surprised to see it looking a lot more festive than usual. The Narrator had mentioned wanting to run some Christmas DLC ideas by Stanley. Asking for his opinion, for once, before just throwing him into a new situation.
Stanley couldn't complain.
He nodded approvingly at the decorations. The lights in the office were dimmed in a cozy sort of way, the primary source of lighting being warm white Christmas lights that lined the walls. Out the normally bright white window was a dark night sky and what looked to be snow falling. Knowing it was just an illusion, Stanley got the feeling of being in a snow globe.
Wrapped loosely around the pretty lights above the window and doors were sparkling strands of alternating red and green garland. Soft jazzy instrumental Christmas music was playing in the background.
Most noticeable to Stanley, though, was a little Christmas tree that sat in the far left corner. The glint off of one particular ornament caught his attention and he made his way over to the tree as the Narrator began.
“All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to head to the meeting room. Perhaps that was where this year’s Christmas party was being held.”
As he got closer to the tree he realized all the ornaments were of the same type and colors. Despite them all being the same, the one he had made his way over to was the one he grabbed lightly. It was a vibrant shiny purple with little sparkly wreaths of green glitter around its mid section. A line of that same glittery green above and below the wreaths. An odd color combo, Stanley would have thought, had he not remembered mentioning these colors being his favorites to the Narrator some time ago.
He couldn’t hide his smile.
“That certainly was not for you, Stanley. I’ll have you know- when you told me your favorite colours, that quickly became a little tidbit I filed away as unimportant. It had completely slipped my mind. Honestly. It really did. ...Why are you giving me that look? Stanley, I’m being serious right now. Need I take us to the serious room?”
Stanley continued to smile, he could tell that the Narrator was floundering and flustered as ever.
“F-Flustered!? I’m nothing of the sort! Now, if you don’t mind… let’s get a move on and get to Christmas-ing!”
Stanley left the room and continued on.
Walking through the next communal office, however, had put a bit of a damper on his festive mood. The decorations were nice and all but… the more he saw the office like this, the more it just reminded him of past Christmas parties he’d had here.
Well- not really. It wasn’t that simple, of course.
Any past parties here were just concepts the Narrator had written into him, into this place. Stanley was the one who would decorate when the time came- the house, the office. He was an absolute mess by the end of it but his love of all things sparkly and twinkly made every room he decorated it’s own warm little festive space.
Apparently.
He sighed. None of that meant anything, really. Nothing but dreams of what he should be, not who he was now. For all he knew, maybe he sucked at decorating. Maybe he couldn’t even wrap a present, couldn’t even write a simple Christmas card.
“No, no. You’ve always been terrible at present wrapping and writing Christmas cards, Stanley.”
He sighed again.
“Off you go now.”
The office worker continued on until he got to the two doors room.
“When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he took the door on his left.”
He did so. When he finally got to the meeting room it looked-
Well, the same as ever, but there were some lights strung up and there were Christmas snacks and such on the table sitting on the work papers. On the projector it looked like some Christmas movie was playing.
“Yet, there was not a single person there either. Feeling a wave of disbelief… and an odd chill in the air, Stanley decided to go up to his boss’ office hoping he might find an answer there.”
Stanley walked up to the usual door to exit the meeting room and do as the Narrator said, but…
“What the-”
The door was closed and locked.
“I can’t seem to open it. Also, it’s really a bit cold in here now, isn’t it, Stanley? Hmm...”
The office worker heard the usual shuffling of papers. This was the first time he’d ever done a practice run of an ending with the Narrator and, aside from a few little slip ups of letting Stanley’s teasing about the ornaments get to him, he was in top form today.
“Now wait a minute. Stanley do you hear that? It sounds like… Are those bells?”
Jingling bells sounded off from the other side of the door. Just as quickly the bells stopped and the door unlocked. There was a final distant few rings of the bells once more before all was silent.
Interesting.
“Well, don’t look at me. Open the door, Stanley.”
He did so and it was cold. Very cold.
“Oh my goodness… Oh, uhm- Shocked at the sight before him, Stanley gazed in awe at the brilliant white snow that covered the ground. A little ways away he saw what looked to be a cabin, smoke rising from the chimney.”
The sky was dark blue and the snow crunched beneath his feet. This felt so… real. Maybe they could use more big change of pace endings like this, Stanley thought. He walked along in the icy cold, his arms wrapped around himself, though breathing in the chilly air felt nice.
He stopped when he got close enough to the cabin to read the red sign on the door.
“Stanley made his way through the snow and had finally arrived at the cabin. Hmm, oh that can’t be right. Santa’s Work Shop? This isn’t the North Pole.”
The office worker took in another icy cold breath. Fresh as peppermint, he thought. And he loved peppermint. He couldn’t believe he forgot to grab a candy cane.
“Stanley, I’m, uhm, not quite sure…” Some paper shuffling could be heard, “I’m not quite sure what’s going on here. Let me-”
Stanley put his hand on the door handle and turned it.
“Wait, wait, Stanley-”
And in the cabin was… the office. The same little communal office as always when he first exited his own.
“Hmm, okay, so… I thought that I would be able to come up with something there, during this little practice run of ours, but uhm… I suppose that didn’t quite work out.”
‘What?’ Stanley thought.
“Ugh, don’t make me say it.” He sighed. “I’ve got a bit of writers block, Stanley.”
‘Ah. It’s not a bad start though. I was at the edge of my seat.’ Despite the comically blank look on his face, he meant it.
“Well, let’s maybe begin again. Something different this time. I’ll try to think more quickly on my feet. Let’s see…” More paper shuffling filled the room. Then, “Oh. M-Maybe the time is right for this one,” he whispered to himself.
Stanley looked at the fake sky curiously and then everything went black.
…
Stanley opened his eyes. He was sitting in his office chair, his computer in front of him as always. He stood up and exited his office.
“Alright. Take two. This one will be a- uhm, a little bit different, perhaps.” He sounded nervous. How odd.
Regardless, Stanley made his way through the rooms and the dialogue until he got to the two doors room again. Once there, he paused, unsure. There was some strange little green leafy stuff with white little berries above the door on the left.
What the hell was that?
His memory of his own backstory was a little spotty in some places, to be honest. Especially when it came to specifics. He knew he was good at decorating but he couldn’t remember what was written to be his favorite Christmas song. He couldn’t remember what that one fruity little cake thing everyone always seemed to hate was called. He couldn’t remember what those little pointy eared guys that helped Santa Claus make the presents every year were called.
He couldn’t even remember… was Santa real? Was it that parents lied to kids about him being real or lied about him being fake?
Stanley held his head, this was too much. He looked back at the little leafy stuff. Maybe it was just some sort of special decoration. Some sort of ornament. Those berries made it look like food though. Well, people strung up popcorn sometimes for Christmas, he remembered that. But what was this little thing? It was right on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn’t remember what it was called or what exactly made it special.
All thoughts left his mind when he saw the Narrator walking up to the door from the other side of it. He was wearing a silly sweater vest with a bow-tie in the brightest reds and greens Stanley had ever seen. He had a red Santa coat, unbuttoned, over his silly festive outfit. The headphones with a mic that he always wore in this human form of his were also now bright red and green, with a Santa hat covering the top.
Oh that's… ugh, why did he look so cute? Dressed up for a holiday he probably knew very little about, other than what he’d read up on it to incorporate it into Stanley’s backstory.
And that oddly shy and anxious look on his face… that was the cutest thing of all. Stanley hated himself for the thought, not for the first time.
He walked up to the Narrator, his head tilted in question as he looked up at the pretty little leafy thing.
Oh, wait! The berries. Were these… cranberries? He could recall cranberry sauce. He thought that maybe he loved that stuff. Wasn’t it more reddish though?
He looked back at the Narrator and noticed that he was now blushing, his eyes looking shyly up at the leafy thing then peering back at the floor, unsure about something.
At that, Stanley finally put the pieces together. This was a gift and the Narrator was shy about giving it to him. His companion was twiddling and fiddling his fingers together and looking anywhere but at Stanley.
‘You’re so embarrassing.’ Stanley thought to the Narrator with a smirk, though he could feel the heat in his own cheeks and over the tips of his ears rising.
“Oh, shut up, Stanley.”
‘Looks pretty tasty.’ He licked his lips as he walked up to the Narrator, staring into the man's eyes for just a moment before glancing down at his lips.
“O-oh?” The Narrator was blushing much darker now.
Stanley silently chuckled as he leaned up, grabbed the cranberries, and shoved them into his mouth.
“That’s- !? What are you- !?” The Narrator sounded shocked.
Stanley knew he was probably making a face as he chewed these things down. These tasted fucking awful. But it was the first gift the Narrator had given him since the bucket. And this didn't even look to be a gameplay mechanic, so he knew if he didn’t receive it well then the man would probably not be giving him another gift like it again. So he had shoved all that leafy stuff into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed it all down as quickly as he could.
“S-Stanley, what the hell are you doing!?”
What was his problem? Stanley ate it. And it was already making his stomach ache. It was only a little bundle of cranberries, what the hell? Well, it was about a handful of them it looked like. The Narrator had gone all out on bunching them up and strangely tying them above the doorway. Weird way to give a gift, but then he knew his companion was a pretty weird guy.
But… Ah, maybe trying to down so much so fast wasn’t such a good idea. He grabbed his stomach. Slowly he fell to his knees, then fully fell to the floor. His vision became blurry, he felt so sick and his stomach, the pain was- ughhhh.
He blearily heard a little scoff and the Narrator saying, “Idiot.” before he passed out.
…
Stanley opened his eyes. He was sitting in his office chair, his computer in front of him as always. He stood up and exited his office.
Well, that was unpleasant. So much for the Narrator supposedly trying to be nice for Christmas. How was that ending “a little bit different”?
Stanley thought for a moment.
Something was still bothering him. Why did the Narrator sound so nervous about that new ending idea? And why did he also come down in person for that? To get a better view of Stanley being sick all over the floor? That didn’t sound right. And that little plant… it was special, but not in a bad way. He was sure of it.
“All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to head to the meeting room. Perhaps that was where this year’s Christmas party was being held.”
Oh good, he was getting another chance at hopefully finding out what the hell was up with the Narrator. He could swear he heard the man give a sad little sigh at the end of his dialogue there.
The jazzy piano instrumental Christmas music was still playing softly in the background. The current tune was familiar. Well, they all were, but there was something about this one.
Stanley shrugged and again made his way over to the little tree that had ornaments of his favorite colors. He grabbed one of the ornaments and smirked up at the ceiling, wanting to needle his companion yet again.
He got no response. He tilted his head curiously but didn’t push it. With another shrug Stanley made his way into the next set of offices, taking his time and noticing little decorations he hadn’t before. Little candle lights on the tables, the twinkling of the Christmas lights glow against the silvery garland that lay around each desk.
Hmm. Last time he got here the background music changed. This time, it seemed this one song was on loop. The lyrics he felt like were right on the tip of his tongue but just couldn’t remember.
As he walked down the hall past door 417 and into the next hall, he finally began recalling certain words to the song.
‘Down the stairs to have a peak… Hmm. Dammit, what was it?’ He put a hand to his chin and stood there in the dimmed hall. Warm white Christmas lights gave it a soft glow. The office felt so cozy like this. He hated to admit that he loved it.
‘Wrapped up in my bedroom fast asleep. I saw-’ His eyes widened.
Not one of his favorite Christmas songs but one he could now finally remember.
‘How stupid. I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus, underneath… the mistletoe… Oh my god.’
He smacked his hand to his head. Maybe a little harder than he intended to but it was well earned.
Idiot.
He remembered the Narrator calling him that. And the man was right. But, he wasn’t calling him that because Stanley fell into his “evil trap” or anything like that. It was because Stanley ate some fucking mistletoe, like an idiot.
Mistletoe, for kissing under.
And the Narrator had dressed in a Santa hat and jacket and now with the melody of that ridiculous song playing over and over again the whole thing hit Stanley like a bus. That would, in fact, be preferable to making such a dumbass of himself- getting hit by a bus.
He looked ahead of him. He was still standing in the hallway and the door at the end of it lead to the two doors room. He couldn’t see the mistletoe anymore. He hoped it just hadn’t popped in yet because he was too far away. He hoped it was some video game mechanics nonsense.
He walked forward and entered the two doors room.
It didn’t appear.
The Narrator was finally ready to stop screwing around and maybe... finally get to screwing around, but Stanley was too stupid to realize it in time.
The dumb Christmas tune, still on repeat, taunted him.
Well, fine. Time to just go jump off the cargo lift.
“So,” the Narrator walked into the two doors room, from the door on the left. “I suppose you understand your folly now.”
Stanley rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, ‘You’re so annoying. Why didn’t you just tell me? You already know I’d jump you at the go-ahead. I’m sure you’ve read it in my thoughts before.’
“W-well, I,” his voice had nearly squeaked as he gave a little cough and tried to find his words, “I, uhm… even if the… feelings are, uhm, appear to be mutual… I thought that narratively we should have a good reason to-”
Stanley shook his head and grabbed the Narrator’s hand, it was cold, unsurprisingly. He had dragged the man around before by it, after all. In an attempt to share his warmth he held it tighter than usual as he walked him through the door on the right and down the hallway. The Narrator was stuttering and sputtering the whole way there.
Once they finally got to the lounge Stanley froze, his eyes wide.
The lounge looked even more beautiful than any other room he’d seen in the office so far. The lighting was dim save for the rainbow and warm yellow lights strung about where the wall met the ceiling. The room smelled like fresh coffee and sugar cookies, with a bit of peppermint.
A beautifully decorated Christmas tree sat where the vending machine once had. It had a gold glowing star on top and silver and gold garland in candy cane like swirls around its branches. It, much like the room, was covered in twinkling little Christmas lights, a soft rainbow of colors that reflected off of the purple and green ornaments. There were other colors of ornaments too, but the purple and green ones made up most of the tree, Stanley noticed.
He turned and looked at his companion. ‘So you decorated this route too?’
“You think I wouldn’t put in the effort for my story?” He sounded a bit offended.
‘What was the lounge dialogue gonna be?’
After a quick clearing of his throat, the Narrator began, “’Perhaps my friends are in the lounge, taking a break from the more raucous Christmas festivities that are surely going on in the meeting room!’ Stanley thought to himself. That is, until he remembered that he didn’t have any friends. ...Holding back his tears he continued on.”
Stanley rolled his eyes.
He did his best to not smile, to not laugh. The Narrator simply gave him a sheepish grin as the office worker shook his head in mock scolding.
“The door to the loading docks would be locked and the Confusion Ending would be locked as well. I can’t remake the entire game for one new Downloadable Content ending you know.”
‘Yeah, yeah. Anyway… back to the topic at hand.’ He grabbed the Narrator’s other hand, both in his own now. ‘Narratively speaking, I think us kissing at any point in the story makes sense, what with how much time we spend thinking about each other.’
He gave him a sly grin as he walked backwards a bit, dragging him over to sit on the couch.
“Many of those times are not in a positive light, Stanley. And just because we think a lot about each other doesn’t mean things have to take a romantic turn.” The Narrator sounded annoyed but his eyes had fallen to staring at the ground in a clearly troubled sort of way.
He continued quietly, as if to himself, “Oh, damn it all. I’ve grown much too attached to you. ...Ugh, the integrity of my story…”
The office worker knew it was about more than just that. But the implication that all of this seemed to have been something the Narrator thought a lot about spoke volumes to Stanley.
Was he really that hesitant, that unsure, about all of this? Was he really actually... worried?
Stanley let go of one of the Narrator’s hands. The man seemed to cringe at that, perhaps thinking he had said or done something wrong, when suddenly Stanley’s index finger was under his chin. He then lifted the Narrator’s chin until the two of them were making eye contact once more.
‘You don’t have anything to worry about.’
The Narrator looked at him curiously, but… trusting? Wanting to trust him, maybe.
And he was blushing and he looked so, so sweet. Stanley’s heart ached with how much he wanted to do something, anything. Hold him, kiss him, push him down against the couch and…
Stanley shook his head. Focus. First things first. Get him to chill out a little. He could feel the slight tremor in the Narrator’s grasp.
‘This is just one of like a million different endings. Besides that, it’s a practice run. Throw out what you don’t want. And keep what you like.’
The Narrator nodded, he seemed absolutely captivated by Stanley’s every word. Perhaps, just because of how close they were at the moment.
‘And... I’m no writer, but don’t they say it’s pretty normal for your characters to take the story into their own hands? Sometimes…’ He leaned in even closer, ‘Sometimes you can’t really fight it. Don’t really want to.’
Stanley’s heart was racing now. Their noses were near touching. Breath intermingling.
… Peppermint?
The Narrator gave yet another sheepish grin, “Ah, uhm, I was drinking peppermint tea a bit ago. ...For the occasion. F-for Christmas, of course. No other reason.”
Any nervousness on Stanley’s part about all of this completely slipped away at that. He held back a laugh, ‘Idiot.’
“I beg your pardon?” His ask was near a whisper as he looked from Stanley’s eyes to his lips.
‘Yeah, “for the occasion".’ Stanley rolled his eyes. ‘You wrote me,’ he pulled his companion by the chin a little closer yet again, their noses touching now, ‘you know how much I love peppermint.’
He tilted his head, then gently pressed their lips together. The Narrator made a cute little nervous but needy sound against him. The Narrator’s lips were soft and a little cold, like his hands, but not in a way that was unpleasant. Stanley felt the heat in his stomach rising as he thought of all the ways he wanted to keep all of this man warm from now on. His hands moved to cup the Narrator’s face.
A moment or two passed and he hated to break apart from the kiss so soon, but he had to. He needed to see his companion’s reaction. He held the man’s face back a bit to look him over.
The Narrator whined when they broke apart and slowly opened his eyes. The rainbow glow of Christmas lights blinking softly around them couldn’t hide his deep red blush.
Stanley was very pleased with this reaction. And he was certain his own face was just as red, as he could feel the light prickling of heat all over. He wanted to pull the Narrator back into another kiss so badly but… he still felt that needling itch, as he often did, to tease the man a little more.
‘Nothing is ever for me, huh?’ Stanley teased.
The Narrator looked almost as if he were intoxicated. Maybe by the kiss or the atmosphere. Maybe both.
“Hmm? What?” His voice was a little hoarse and Stanley loved the sound of it.
‘The ornaments, the peppermint. Not for me, right?’ He smiled, feeling himself breathing a little heavy still from the kiss, from his heart pounding.
With an annoyed scoff the Narrator said, “Everything is for you, you twit.” Then pulled the office worker back down into another kiss.
Stanley fell, with purpose, down on top of him, their lips locked. He’d never felt so warm in his life and he wanted nothing more than to share that warmth with his cold, cold narrator. He wondered if that tea had been enough to warm the man’s mouth and took the fact that it was peppermint to be an open invitation to finding out. With a few more gentle kisses he leaned into the man and used his own lips to part the other’s.
The Narrator moaned into their new position and pulled Stanley close. Stanley’s mind felt so hazy and he felt so good. Why had they not been doing this years ago? They were both so stupid.
Stanley suddenly froze.
It almost hurt to stop now, but there was something he had to know. He pulled apart from the Narrator, lifted his head and thought, ‘W-wait. There’s something I need to ask you.’
“Oh, for godsake, Stanley, please.” The Narrator pulled him back down and roughly said, “Ask me while we kiss.” Then he pushed their open mouths together once more.
Stanley tried to think. ‘I-I can... hardly-,’ It was a challenge to concentrate on any thoughts that weren’t this though.
Thoughts of how he could feel the Narrator’s cold hands warming up slightly as they brushed through Stanley’s hair in gentle rhythmic strokes. It was so soothing.
And his mouth- the peppermint- if Stanley had had another favorite flavor before, it was long gone from his mind now. He only wanted peppermint, laced with whatever tea it was that the Narrator usually drank that still rested on his tongue. That sugar cookie scent that filled the lounge- he’d been eating some of those with his tea too it seemed.
Stanley’s mind felt like a blur. Thinking was so hard.
He pulled himself together, though, for a moment at least. ‘I can hardly focus. Like… like this. ...P-please. Gimme just… a minute.’
The Narrator groaned as he slowly pulled back from him. “Fine. Alright, what-what is it?” His voice was very hoarse now and he sounded completely out of breath and as obnoxious as ever.
Every word the man spoke made Stanley feel… so much. Again he could barely focus. His heart ached at parting from such an intimate moment with his Narrator for even a second, but-
But despite it all, he trudged through the fuzzy haze in his mind and through shaky breath finally thought, ‘Is… is Santa real?’
The Narrator was silent.
A full minute must have past before he finally said, “What.”
‘I can’t remember and it’s been bugging the hell out of me all day. I need to know. Just tell me real quick so we can get back to making out.’
The Narrator blinked in disbelief.
Another full minute must have passed before he finally spoke again. “I… have never wanted to kill you more than in this moment.”
‘If I didn’t ask right now I’d forget!’
“Stanley. I am not human. How the bloody hell would I know?”
‘Oh. Good point.’
The Narrator put a hand to his head, he looked so done. “The only things I know about this holiday are what I’ve read up on it. And from what little I’ve read, I would say no. But then, our entire situation and existence has put many things about ‘real life’ into question, hasn’t it?” He sighed.
Stanley thought about it for a moment.
And then he didn’t care! Asked and answered! Who fucking knows!
He fell back onto the man beneath him and aimed to make the rest of their night so warm and passionate that his companion would hopefully forget the many stupid things he had done in these festive run-throughs!
The Narrator pulled back from the kiss, for only a moment, to say, “Not likely. Please, do try though.” Then slotted his lips back where they belonged, against his ever so annoying silent protagonist.
And there was not another interruption between them. Not even a reset.