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He had never had fruitcake before.

Julian knew what kind of reputation the confection had, and unlike many other kinds of cakes, this particular one lacked a certain visual quality. It was… lumpy. And brown, and some of the recipes looked as though Gummi Bears had been wholesale slapped into the thing as an afterthought. The texture was rather dry without icing and it didn’t… look very appealing. Julian felt some sympathy for the cake, as the confection didn’t ask to be so unappealing. The internet gave it a truly terrible reputation.

Roddy had seen the bakery from the street, and having gone in before, decided to try their revamped fruitcake recipe for giggles. He explained once, sometimes we would buy fruit cake and try to eat it, but it was gross, so we’d use the pieces as gingerbread house decor instead. Julian figured, at least it would get used if the fruitcake turned out to be an unappealing as its reputation said it would be. The pictures certainly didn’t do it any justice.

With the curious cake on the kitchen table, Julian took his first slice of holiday tradition and found it to be delightful. It was an odd texture, and kind of chewy, and he wondered where someone got the idea for it in the first place, but it wasn’t bad at all. With a sunny smile, Julian announced to both Roddy and Staccato that he rather enjoyed the fruitcake, and perhaps its reputation was based on a few duds in the past. He volunteered that, perhaps, the cake could use a honey drizzle or something to keep it from being so dry.

Everything was fine and normal, with holiday baking and gift-wrapping well underway, until Julian felt quite… unusual. He was sitting on the couch with several feet of ribbon, tying off bows on the presents Roddy had wrapped that were destined for his niece and nephew. Roddy delighted in spoiling them, and they’d been very good this year, so Santa was quite generous. This meant quite a bit of wrapping, bows, ribbon and cards.

The Christmas tree was brighter than he remembered it from just half an hour ago, with the lights twinkling with such technicolor displays that he was sure he must’ve been half-asleep before. Were they always this bright? It was lovely, and the puffy-haired young man’s small collection of Hershey’s Kisses suddenly taste like heaven. In contemplative silence, listening as the crinkling of wrapping paper suggested Roddy had finally overcome the roadblock that was wrapping an oddly-shaped Transformers toy for his nephew, Julian sat and stared at the Christmas lights. Garland sparkled in ways he never thought possible, reflecting the bright, glowing colors that seemed bigger than the tiny lights should be.

Was this the Christmas Spirit!? No wonder people loved the holidays! Everything got fantastic in a matter of hours!

Unfortunately, despite the lovely sensations, something still seemed off about the poofy thing. “...wOW roDdY, ThE lIghTs lOOk… GrEAt!!” he warbled. Blue eyes were locked onto the particularly twinkling orange and yellow shapes of the Christmas ornaments.

Julian seemed utterly enchanted by just about everything before his eyes, and not in his usual innocent way. The puffy-haired young man seemed to sway slightly, squinting at the lights half in examination, and half in a wince. Things seemed an awful lot brighter than they should be. He leaned over and placed his head on Roddy's shoulder, trembling fingers dancing over the larger man's skin. "YeeeeEEEep, fiRSt chrIStMas... ooof.... wow, you... HaVE nicE sKiN, ROddY..."

Truth be told, the young man was starting to wonder if it wasn't the Christmas Spirit, but some kind of illness. He wasn't turning back into a youma, was he?? Wide-eyed, he looked up at Roddy, his pupils the size of the massive cookies he'd baked earlier.

"...DID yoUr tatTOOS... alWAys MOVe...???"

He blinked several times, breathing in and out deeply. Yes, something was definitely wrong, Julian simply wasn't sure what it was.

"....hnnn..."

That wasn't such a good feeling, anymore.

Julian's stomach was beginning to voice its unhappiness with his previous edible decisions, and was gurgling loud enough that Roddy might here it. Suddenly, the poofy young man who wobbled just a little bit, even now, shot up like a rocket to stumble towards the bathroom. There was no way Jose he was going to vomit on Roddy's nice carpet!

The stumbled trip to the downstairs bathroom was riddled with squinting and swaying. It seemed as though all the great and wonderful things about Christmas were turning out to be horrible. The smell of the tree was nauseating, the lights were too bright, the music too loud. Slamming into the threshold of the door, Julian dropped to his knees and his body convulsed in unholy ways.

THIS WAS THE WORST EVER

He liked the fruit cake! And now it was evacuating the dance floor!!

For the next few minutes, poor Julian experienced something he couldn't recall having a memory of - vomiting. And it was horrible.

A gurgle was about the only thing Julian could do in response to Roddy's gentle question. With his face against the cool linoleum of the bathroom, Julian winced, squinting at the soft light in the room. "But I... I love... food..." he wheezed, struggling to sit up again without being hit by another wave of intense nausea. He couldn't remember ever feeling so terrible, and so suddenly! Those Hershey Kisses were delicious, but they weren't so delicious the second time around.

His mouth felt... icky.

After a few agonizing minutes, incredibly grateful for Roddy's presence and presence of mind to bring paper towels and ginger ale. Perfect for an upset stomach. It took Julian extra time to position himself to lean on Roddy for comfort, sighing deeply into the man's shirt. "....hnngg.... that was... that was... terrible... I like food and this time, it didn't like me... all I had was that... fruitcake, and..."

Then, it dawned on the poofy boy. "Is that why everybody on the internet says fruitcake is evil???" Maybe it was. Maybe Julian discovered firsthand the true extent of the sinister evil that was fruitcake. Now he had to contend with the gurgles for the next few hours while his body adjusted to the sudden evacuation of the contents of his stomach. He had to wash this terrible taste from his mouth.

Roddy was the kind, patient and gentle sort, and didn't seem to mind that Julian was essentially using him as a cane to make it to the sink to wash out his mouth. The cool water helped to wash away the taste of chocolate and bile and sadness. All that said and done, Julian returned to snuggling into Roddy for warmth and comfort. "....that was... terrible... That bakery should get bad reviews on Yelp."

That'll show 'em!