Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. In my mind, Rachel and Blaine are siblings, so in this fic, that's what's happening =] Also, I love the idea of a Kurtana friendship, so that's included. Note the M rating. This chaper has slight adult themed references, but no smut. There won't be for a bit...(This is my first fic and I'm kind of scared! It will happen though.) If you're interested, my Tumblr url is mckinleyiswheremykurtis.

Awaking to his iPod blaring "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" instead of its usual "Wicked" playlist, Kurt Hummel smiled a tiny smile. It was obvious that the teenager wasn't exactly the most religious person, and neither was his family. So really, what reason did he have for giving this song 104 plays, when it was just released yesterday? Kurt couldn't get enough of this song though, and he knew why. After a few seconds of cuddling deeper into his Egyptian cotton bed sheets and gently rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes, he decided he should venture into the outside world. He finally rolled out of bed, when his iPod was about to switch to a different song.

"Nuh uh uh…" he thought to himself, shaking his head as if someone would see him emphasizing his point. Playing the song once again, the smirk was brought back to his face. The vocals of Rachel Berry were fantastic in this song, but oh when Blaine Anderson sang, it was flawless. The cheerful tune, the pure, unadulterated sex in Blaine's voice was enough to tell Kurt that this would be a good day. It was Christmas after all, and dammit, he deserved to be happy.

He opened his closet, picking out a white collared shirt, a red sweater vest, and red skinny jeans that, in his opinion, made his ass look pretty awesome. Of course, he didn't have any other input on how his butt looked in them, other than his best friends, Santana and Mercedes. It was very flattering of them to say such, but it just wasn't the same as a guy telling him how great he looked. Even with the "Lookin' good, boo" from Mercedes and Santana's "You look nice today, Hummel. And by nice, I mean those jeans do fucking wonders for your ass and package. Auntie Tanny approves."

He let the hopeless wishes of another openly gay boy leave his thoughts quickly, sighing at the impossibility. Instead of pathetically dwelling on the matter, and he often found himself doing, Kurt made his way downstairs, greeting his family. His father sat on the couch, in his tacky robe that was adorned with images of reindeers and Christmas lights. Dear gosh, why did Carole pick out something so horrid? His father already had undergone a heart attack this year, why would she add a second disaster? Kurt silently forgave her as she snuggled closer to him on the couch, watching his step-brother excitedly rip apart the silver wrapping paper. It was a shame to see the festive paper flying everywhere, and Kurt had to hold his tongue as to not scold Finn for his abrasiveness, but a small part of him felt just as child-like as Finn acted on this special day.

He remembered years ago, when he would tear the wrapping paper to shreds, finding a stunning Marc Jacobs sweater, and running up to his mother, embracing her warmly. "MOTHER, OH MY GOSH, HOW DID YOU KNOW?" He'd say, as Elizabeth laughed and pushed his hair behind his ear, replying with a simple "A mother always knows." He would hold her for a second more, just a second. Her perfume smelled of lilac, with a hint of sandalwood mixed with the smell of gingerbread in the air. It was a comforting smell, one that he could clearly remember; one he never wanted to forget. Her long, graceful fingers would brush through his hair, her breath hitching. Kurt's eyes would squeeze shut, even tighter, as he memorized the pattern Elizabeth made, rubbing her hand in small, gentle circles on his back. She suddenly stopped, and crouched down in front of her son.

"Kurt, honey, you know that there isn't a second that goes by that I don't thank God for gracing me with such a beautiful, smart baby boy, right?" Kurt nodded quietly, not meeting his mother's eyes. Oh, how he hated when she talked like this. It was the last thing he wanted to think about on Christmas. Elizabeth, however, knew how little time she had to address this subject.

"No matter what, your father and I will be here to accept you. Don't ever think that we would judge you, or could love you any less…that's impossible. We'll always adore you, honey. You're so, so perfect." She pressed her lips to his forehead softly, as tears threated to form. Pulling away, she could tell by Kurt's glassy eyes that he felt the same way. He attempted to smile in spite of it, causing Elizabeth to give a genuine smile back. Her son was so strong. Stronger than she felt at the moment-but, unfortunately, she knew he would have to stay that way for a while. He was a Hummel though, and as her husband to her time and time again, "No one pushes the Hummels around."

That was their last Christmas together.

Finn pulled Kurt back into reality, as well as a hug, with a scream of "KURT, HOLY CRAP BRO! Dude, you're the best!" After the initial shock, Kurt laughed and patted his step-brother on the back awkwardly. With that, Finn ran upstairs with his new copy of Call Of Duty: Black Ops. Burt and Carole chuckled, shaking their heads at their son's antics. Carole turned to Kurt with a grin.

"Kurt, go get your stocking." He nodded slowly, retrieving the red and white decoration, which he's had for as many Christmases as he could remember. Kurt looked up to his father, who motioned for him to empty its contents. He happily obliged.

As expected, he found a few small candies that he would later deny his enjoyment of, an iTunes gift card, a designer key chain, a few gift cards to his favorite online stores, and a few bottles of his favorite, and tremendously expensive, moisturizers, and new sketch diary for his designs. That's what stockings were for-small gifts.

"Thank y-" Kurt began, but Burt cut him off.

"Don't go thanking us yet. Check the bottom of the stocking." Kurt raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. Upon doing such, he was greeted with a gift so beautiful; it was only second to the Marc Jacobs sweater he received when he was 8. Gingerly, he lifted it out of the stocking, and held it closer to his face. Just looking at it brought on a smile. He couldn't believe such a thing was there, in his own hands.

Two tickets to see Rachel and Blaine in concert, during their "Winter Raine" tour.

Kurt couldn't believe his eyes-how could he be blessed with such a gift? He looked up to Burt and Carole, completely flabbergasted.

"These tickets…they were IMPOSSIBLE to get…how…oh my god…you guys…this is….oh my GOD!" Kurt sputtered, much to the amusement of Burt and Carole.

"Well kid, it's all you've been talking about for months…." Burt began.

"We took it as a subtle hint." Carole finished for him, with a smile.

"I love you guys, so, SO much! I can't think you enough!" He enveloped them both into a tight hug, earning their laughter.

"One more thing, son." His father reached under the tree, then handing him a small, tin box. Kurt blinked at it, confusedly, and then opened it. It was a receipt for two plane tickets, to New York, for the weekend of the concert.

"We also made reservations at a hotel. Kurt, you've had a hard year, and you're very mature for your age. Much more than any teenager should be. You've proven to be able to make good choices and handle responsibility-we trust you." Carole explained. Kurt was shocked, but managed to thank them.

"Dad…Carole…you have no clue how much this mean to me. Thank you guys-thank you!"

Burt nodded in response. "Go call up either Mercedes or Santana. You're dragging one of them to the show with you." Kurt bit his bottom lip enthusiastically, and ran to his room with his new tickets. He once again played "Extraordinary Merry Christmas". More than ever, he believed the song's title to be true.

~xXx~

"Hola my numero uno homosexual. Has my very own, personal, elf-on-a-shelf called to wish me a Merry Christmas?" Santana greeted Kurt.

"No, my very own, personal, 'ho, ho hoe'. We have more important matters to deal with, mon numero une lesbian." He replied. This was, in fact, how the two conversed on a regular basis.

"And what would that be, tickle-me-doe-face?" Santana questioned, using a nicknamed her cheerleading coach devised for Kurt. It was a dreaded nickname, which only made it more tempting for Santana to use.

"Well, Satan, in my perfectly manicured, baby-soft hands, I hold two plane tickets to New York. Since 'Cedes can't go because of her upcoming date with Sam, I'm asking you to accompany me. You in?" Kurt asked, feigning nonchalance. When there was a silent pause, Kurt almost became nervous.

"AM I IN? Kurtie-pie, I'm so in. I'm SO fucking in." Ah, there was the reaction Kurt had expected. " In fact, I'm so in, I'm more in than your cock will be one day be up some other guy's-"

"I GET IT SANTANA"

"Sorry, virgin-ears. Seriously though, read those pamphlets on your dresser. The ones your dad got you. As oblivious as you are to it, you are a nice piece of ass, Hummel. You should prepare yourself."

"Uh huh. Okay, I'm gonna pretend that it's not creepy of you to go through my things, especially those awkward pamphlets. Anyways, while in New York, we have a show to attend." Kurt said, smiling at the concert tickets.

"…Really, Kurt? Is this one of this extremely gay Broadway shows? I've had relations with women before, hun, and I'm calling them gay. Now that should tell you something, sweet-cheeks."

Kurt huffed in annoyance. "No, Santana, it's not Broadway-which isn't gay!- it's for Rachel and Blaine. They're going on tour, starting next weekend, in New York. That's the one we're going to."

"Oh, I get your angle. This is your excuse to see that sexy beast, Blaine Anderson, huh? Well, I could go for it. Rachel is pretty hot herself, I mean, aside from the bird beak taking up her face. The one she calls a "nose"." Santana snorted-something only Kurt and Mercedes have heard her do. As much as she teased and annoyed Kurt, he knew she loved him, as he did her.

"That's rude, 'Tana. Also, I don't just like Blaine because he's gorgeous! He's incredibly well-rounded. He's witty, articulate, charming, modest, talented,…"Kurt began to go off, listing adjectives as he began to daydream about the hazel-eyed musician.

"Stop right there, Hummel. I get it. He's basically God. I understand. I'm gonna hang up now as you masturbate to thoughts of him. Read those pamphlets while you're at it, Kurtie-pie. Buh-bye." With that, Kurt heard a click on the other line before he could object. As much as he hated to admit it, he really did need to read those pamphlets at some point. He had the sexual knowledge of a baby penguin. So it was decided that he would read them.

Just, not tonight.

Tonight, he would fall asleep to "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" because, for the first time since he spent the last Christmas with his mother, it really did feel like an extraordinary, merry Christmas.