My first SpideyNova prompt, and second SpidyNova Christmas. You know, for someone who hates Christmas, I sure do love Christmas stories.

Despite the crappy apartment, there were some good things. The view of the park, for one thing, was always Peter's favorite. Well, maybe second favorite. The cute guy upstairs was always a nice thing to see when he went to get his mail.

With his awesome view came a somewhat decent balcony that he had decked out in a crappy lawn chair a plant that was currently dead from the cold. Peter had woken up to small snowflakes falling from the grey sky, and, enchanted, fixed himself up with a cup of cocoa and an over sized coat and plopped himself down to watch families make snowmen and kids chucking snow at each other.

The balcony above him (the cute guys) was glowing, and Peter found he couldn't actually look up without being blinded, so he tried to ignore it.

Well, he tried until something big and red flew passed him and landed with a thump below. Startled, Peter dropped his mug and ran to the railing, looking below to see a plastic Santa staring up at him. A crowd of people was beginning to gather.

Peter had to crane his neck, but he was able to catch a glimpse of dark hair and - very clearly - could hear the guy cursing everything this side of the moon.

"Uh... You okay up there?" he called.

It took a couple seconds, but his neighbor stuck his head over the railing, and smiled as he looked down. "I'm fine," he assured. "Old Chris Kringle? Not so much."

Taking another glance at the street below, Peter gave a small chuckle. "I saw that."

"Yeah, I was- whoa!"

Peter's breath caught in his throat as the guy almost lost his balance. He was clutching the railing with a shocked expression.

"Um, you know what?" Peter called. "How about you stay away from the railing and wait until I get up there. I'd really rather not see two bodies fall from the fourth floor."

Peter's face flushed as his words caught up with him, but didn't take them back. A plastic Santa was one thing, but an actual breathing person? No thanks.

"U-um... I mean, I- I guess," the guy nodded. "Sure."

"Give me two minutes." Peter rushed inside without waiting for a reply and rushed out the door before he could talk himself out of his stupid, stupid plan.

He chose the stairs instead of waiting on the elevator, and even if he didn't know that the guys apartment was right above his, the too-big wreath candy cane outlined door would have definitely gave it away.

Hesitantly, he knocked on the door, and it burst open before he could finish.

He was tan with dark hair, and honest to god, the guy was wearing antlers and a Rudolph sweater.

"Uh, I'm Peter," he greeted.

"Sam," Sam replied, and opened the door wider and motioning for him to enter. "Really, though, thanks for... you know. I thought I could handle it, but..." He trailed off, and Peter followed his gaze to the balcony.

If Peter thought it was blinding from below, that was nothing compared to facing the mass of Christmas head on.

"That's a lot of lights," he whistled.

Sam flushed. "If you, I mean if you want, could you maybe help out? Like, other than making sure I don't fall to my death. I'll even throw in a cup of hot chocolate. Or eggnog, whatever you prefer."

Peter remembered the cocoa he had been drinking earlier, and how he hadn't even checked if his (favorite) mug was still intact.

"I think that's a fair trade," he nodded, fighting his own blush.

Sam smiled, and Peter felt himself smiling back.

"Cool." Sam jabbed a thumb behind him, and Peter blanched at the pile of decorations that Sam apparently planned on putting up.

"Actually," Peter laughed, "you might want to make that two cups."