Invader Zim ZADR short: Merry Christmas!

Zim sat soundlessly at the Christmas party, watching the other teens talk and have a great time.  He had his arms crossed in a form of protest; he hated this party and wanted to be home alone to sulk.  
Christmas was a time for triumph for the invader, but it was also a time of loneliness.  Every Christmas, he was left alone; while he watched, others sing together and dance. . .  Sometimes Zim wished, most of all, to actually be normal for one Christmas. . .
Zim’s heart burned with longing as he watched a couple kiss under the mistletoe. Why, He wondered, why does no one love Zim?
He could never think of a good response to his own question, and instead found himself trying to better everything by saying something like, one day they will all bow down to Zim, then he will be loved.
Zim looked up from the floor, where he had been staring intently for the past thirty minutes.  He found two round frames staring right back at him, for across the room of partying teens.
Zim growled at Dib, and stood, walking to the front door of the house, and walking outside into the cold winter air.
He walked for quiet awhile before he realized he had forgotten his coat at the house, and he turned to go back.  There was the eyes again, gazing at him almost too curiously, and yet not completely intently.
Zim balled up his fists, and made another attempt to run home. Once home he turned to see Dib walking to his door. Zim frowned deeply, “What do you want from Zim, Dib-stink?”
Dib blushed and looked away, “I-I uh-. . .”
“Well?” Zim was growing impatient.
“I- uh- was. . .” Dib’s blush grew and he looked up, eyes widening.
“M-mistletoe. . .” Dib muttered silently.
Zim tilted his head, “What?”
Dib pointed a shaky hand, “Mistletoe. . .”
Zim looked to where he was pointing, and gasped, he was right. . . There was a Mistletoe leaf on top of the doorway, almost too hazardously.
Zim blushed, “B-but, can’t we not?”
“It’s the rules Zim. . .” Dib sighed.
Zim looked up at him, and nodded slowly. Dib then leaned in, brushing his lips against Zim’s. Zim grew tense, wondering about the appeal of having a real kiss. Then it happened, and the world around Zim, all his worries, everything disappeared for a few short seconds, however it seemed to last forever.
Once Dib pulled away, he smiled at Zim, “Merry Christmas Zim. . .”
“Merry Christmas Dib-beas- Zim means Dib.” Zim corrected himself.
Dib smiled once more, and turned away. Zim’s heart swelled again, and he silently made a promise to himself. . . To give Dib the best Christmas ever. . .
~
The next morning Dib opened an assortment of presents from his dad, and other relatives. Then there was one gift left, one marked, From Santa.
He had never been given a gift marked from him, and it was mainly because his father detested the fat man with such a white beard, and red suit. Dib carefully unwrapped it, and took off the lid. . .
To his surprise, Zim sat up out of the box, a giant bow attached to his head. Zim smiled at him, and held up another mistletoe leaf on top of both of their heads, “Merry Christmas Dib-love. . .”
Then he kissed him.
Dib’s eyes widened in shock, but soon they fell closed, and he kissed back.
From having the most horrible X-mas ever to having the most wonderful Christmas ever, the two never forgot this moment.