I was honored to be invited to submit a story for the Klaine Christmas Eve Challenge. The themes I was given to work with were "Silent Night" and "Holiday Disasters". I had some of my own minor holiday disasters come up, unfortunately, and that means this story isn't as long as I'd have like to have made it, but maybe later I'll add some "guts" to it. We'll see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little holiday tale! Merry Christmas to each and every one of you...and if that's not your particular holiday, I wish you all good things on your holiday of choice and a spectacular New Year to come! Thanks for reading. :)
Silent Night…Sort Of.
Thursday afternoon found Kurt sitting next to Mercedes in the choir room, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering how long he'd have to endure the nonsense. It was that time of year again, when Sue Sylvester stuck her nose into the glee club's business and everything immediately turned into a shit show. Rachel was bellowing, as usual, about the upcoming competition and how they'd "never be able to compete if they couldn't even get there…" and how "the costumes they had to choose from just wouldn't do!"
"Lord, boy, I am going to haul my butt up outta this chair and stick my foot right up her a—"
"Mercedes!" Kurt hissed, trying to hold back a smile. He wanted to do the very same thing on more than one occasion, but unfortunately Rachel had a point this time.
Sue had appropriated their funds, once again, for the Cheerios, and even the Unholy Trinity couldn't get her to come around. Unfortunately, the school rules stated that any school sanctioned trip had to be taken using a school district vehicle, which had to be paid for by the club, team or group that needed it. Gas wasn't free, and someone from the district had to be paid to drive the bus, which required a special license that certainly none of them had. Somehow, Sue had convinced Figgins that the money the glee kids had raised during their previous fund raisers should be given to the Cheerios, since three of her National Champion Cheerios were in the glee club.
"Rachel, as much as I understand your…concern…we have to stop ranting and come up with an actual solution to our dilemma. Does anyone have any suggestions as to how we might quickly raise some money for our transportation and competition costumes?" Will Schuester asked.
Artie raised his hand and Will called on him with a smile. "We could always have another bake sale."
"I don't think that's such a good plan, considering how well Puck's pot brownies went over last time with the administration, but we'll keep it on the back burner as a last resort," Will said. Artie just nodded, recalling how they'd all been threatened with suspension the previous Spring.
"How about a car wash?" Brittany asked, excitement clear in her voice and her expression.
"Britt…it's five days before Christmas…in Ohio. It's way too cold to have a car wash, although that was a great suggestion…for next summer," Santana soothed Brittany when she saw her pouting. Brittany brightened right away and nodded, already planning for warmer weather.
"How about we hold a concert?" Finn asked, eyes wide and hopeful. "We could sell tickets and—"
"After the crap-fest that was "Night of Neglect" you think that's a valid idea? Nobody will show up and we'll be the laughing stock again," Quinn retorted, rolling her eyes.
"We could go caroling?" Mercedes piped up with a jaunty tilt to her head. When everyone turned to give her a doubtful glance, she explained. "Hear me out. At my church we always go caroling. At the end of our songs we always thank them for listening and ask if they'd like to offer a small donation to the local food pantry. People are pretty generous during the holidays and we're always able to make a sizable contribution to the local food bank. Just a thought…" she trailed off.
"You know how well it went last time we tried caroling, though," Finn mumbled.
"Someone threw a shoe at me," Rachel grumbled.
"No, that was me." Everyone snickered as Santana examined the fingernail she'd just filed.
Rachel turned to glare at her until Puck interrupted. "You know…that might not be a bad idea. Mercedes is right. People are pretty generous during the holidays. Last year when I stole that old guy's bell and red kettle and set up my own little donation spot in front of the grocery store I made a small fortune in a couple hours…until the cops showed up, anyway. We might just make this work if we go to a neighborhood where nobody knows us. We won't run the risk of anyone from McKinley turning the hose on us.."
Will stood at the front of the room watching them all consider the option.
"And we can find a place where nobody knows us?" Kurt asked, recalling the slushie thrown in his face the last time they caroled at school.
Will nodded. "We can't really consider this a school sanctioned event and get buses to take you anywhere, though. We're obviously already tight on money. You guys would have to drive your own cars and meet up at the appointed time and place, and not a word of this to anyone at school. If Sue finds out, she'll put the kibosh on the whole thing."
"You make it sound like you won't be there," Santana stated, eyes squinted in curiosity.
"Unfortunately, I can't join you. We'll be leaving tomorrow evening for Emma's grandparents' cabin up in Maine. I won't be back until after Christmas. So…whadda ya say, guys? Do you wanna give this a try?"
Everyone shrugged, then looked around at each other.
"Well, unless someone else has a great idea, I say we try it. We don't really have any other options and time is running out. Unless we want to forfeit, we have to do something and this is as good as anything. At least we already know a good number of songs from last year's fiasco…er…event," Kurt said with as much disinterest as he could muster.
"I say we head to a rich neighborhood," Puck suggested.
"What neighborhoods tip the best when you clean their pools?" Finn's question took them all by surprise, as nobody really thought he was even listening. Rachel had been hissing in his ear the whole time.
"There's really not anywhere around here where people either don't know us or will tip us well. I say we head out further and try our luck. I have detention tonight and tomorrow, though, so I can't do it then," Puck explained.
Santana nodded along. "Me too," she grinned.
"Me too," Brittany grinned as well, blushing profusely.
"I don't even wanna know," Kitty mumbled, then rolled her eyes at the couple.
"We could head to Westerville. Isn't that where the Ritchie-Riches all live?" Quinn asked, slumped in her seat as much as she was able while still attempting to sit primly.
"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Puck answered. "I worked there with a friend of mine my first summer cleaning pools and made enough money over those three months to buy my first car. They have the money and they don't mind giving it to those of us who are less fortunate…and hot, of course," he grinned. "And there are some seriously sexy moms out there, too," he winked.
"If there is a divine being, I hope he or she saves us from this insanity," Kurt whispered to Mercedes.
"Oh, Kurt. We'll just stick together and have a good time with or without these crazies. C'mon, Boo, try to have a little fun," she laughed.
"So, it's decided?" Will asked.
"Not so fast, I have to work at the shop this weekend and Rachel is out of town with her dads," Finn said. "If Puck, Santana and Britt all have detention today and tomorrow, and Rachel and I are out for Saturday and Sunday, that leaves Monday—"
"Christmas Eve?" Kurt bellowed. "No. I'm not doing that…Christmas Eve is for family, Finn. We'll have to go without you and Rachel—"
"WHAT? Go without us? Have you lost your mind, Kurt?" Rachel bellowed "As if you could—"
"Oh for shit's sake, Berry, it's not as if we couldn't function without you and Frankenteen! Just because—"
"ENOUGH!" Will hollered and got all of their attention. "Kurt, what if you went early on Christmas Eve, say around 4 pm? You could sing for a couple hours and be home by dinner time. By then you'll all be frozen and ready to come home anyway. You won't have to drive into a strange town in the dark if you leave a bit earlier, either, and you can find the streets with the biggest houses," Will suggested.
Kurt huffed out a long breath, glaring at Finn, and finally spoke. "Fine, but you're explaining to Carol and Dad why we won't be home on Christmas Eve, Finn."
"I will, don't worry about it. It'll be fine," Finn grinned. "Maybe we can all come back to our house for hot chocolate afterward and we can watch a Christmas movie? Kurt makes these killer gingerbread men that are to die for, too. I've already eaten like a dozen of 'em!"
"You what!?" Kurt boomed. Finn ducked his head and slumped into his chair again.
"Oh, hell yeah! Diehard!" Puck yelled out, and Artie whooped his agreement.
"Oh my God, Diehard is not a Christmas movie…" Kurt huffed.
"Of course it is!" Finn replied, looking as if Kurt had lost his mind.
"It so is, yo…" Artie added, high-fiving Finn.
"Don't fret, Kurt. We can go to your room and watch Scrooged. I know you love that movie," Mercedes suggested.
"Only because it's the best Christmas movie out there," Kurt replied, looking down his nose as if that was common knowledge, of course.
"Ok, time's up—" Will began, but the bell sounded just then and they all jumped from their chairs to leave. "I'll see you all tomorrow!"
Friday was the last day before their winter break and Kurt couldn't wait to get out of school for almost two whole weeks. He needed the down time to properly go through his winter wardrobe, which should have been done in October, but he'd been busy preparing for glee assignments, working in the shop with his dad and spending time with his girls at the mall. Priorities. He was certain he'd get some new clothes for Christmas, so it was time to weed out any of the out-of-style pieces and make room for the new things.
Saturday afternoon he was holding up two similar sweaters, debating which one would look best with his new jeans, when his phone buzzed and vibrated on the table. Seeing the group text, Kurt rolled his eyes and hoped everyone would have to cancel their caroling fiasco. It would, no doubt, be a fiasco without Mr. Schue there to hold the reigns. Without him, Rachel tended to take over and that never ended well.
Puck: I say we all meet up at 3 pm at Finn and Kurt's place. If we're all going there after singing, that seems logical.
Finn: Sounds good, man. The neighbors on either side of us are out of town for Christmas, so if you can't find a spot on the street, park in their driveway.
Kurt: You can't just offer up the neighbors' driveways, Finn. Smh.
Rachel: Kurt, you have the biggest car, so you can drive the girls.
Kurt: Thank you, Rachel, for asking. I can't wait. (sarcasm)
Mercedes: SHOTGUN!
Rachel: But I called it!
Mercedes: No, you really didn't. You volunteered Kurt to drive and said the girls would ride with him. Period. SHOTGUN!
Quinn: My car is in the shop or I'd drive. Sorry. Kurt, may I bum a ride? I'll chip in for gas.
Kurt: Of course, Quinn. Thank you for asking. (no sarcasm)
Artie: I need our van for my chair. My mom says we can take the van but only if someone sensible drives.
Santana: Well, looks like none of the boys will be driving your van, Artie. Tell your mom I'm happy to. Britt's shotgun. No arguing.
Brittany: I'm against gun violence, Santana. I had to hide Lord Tubbington's Nerf collection.
Santana: Britt, that's not…nevermind. You can sit next to me in the front seat, then.
Brittany: Yeah! I get to pick the music!
Artie: I know it's weird, but I'm glad it'll be cold out and people will have their dogs inside. Last time I went door to door for anything was in Jr. High when I was still in Boy Scouts. We were selling popcorn tins and some lady opened her door to pay us and her dogs came barreling out. I didn't know my chair could roll that fast.
Santana: Holy shit, the dogs chased you!?
Artie: Damn straight. That lady ran all the way down the street yelling at them to stop and they just tracked me like I was a kielbasa. Dogs totally freak me out!
Finn: We have your back, man!
Sam: Have we even decided where we're going? Do they have any dog free neighborhoods?
Rachel: I still think our best bet is to drive to Westerville. Lots of wealthy families live there and hopefully they'll be generous when they hear me sing.
Rachel: When they hear us sing.
Mercedes: Girl, you better check yourself….
Kitty: I don't want to point out the obvious, here, but I'm going to. Isn't Dalton Academy in Westerville? What are the odds that we end up at one of the big houses belonging to one of those guys from Dalton?
Quinn: A girl can hope, right?
Kitty: High five, Quinn!
Quinn: Back at ya, girl!
Mercedes: But seriously, guys. Do we want to run that risk? We'll never live it down if the McKinley High School New Directions show up on the doorstep of one of those Dalton Warblers!
Artie: Kettering could be an option. It's not too far from here, I guess.
Puck: You guys are wusses. Suck it up and meet up at Kurt and Finn's at 3 pm on Monday. The Garglers won't know what hit 'em!
Brittany: I thought we were singing. I don't know why we're bringing shotguns and hitting people. I'm sure those boys from that everybody-wears-a-suit-to-school place are nice.
Santana: We'll be fine, Britt. There won't be any fighting…unless it's Porcelain fighting through the rest of us to snag himself a pretty boy.
Kurt: Hmmmm…tempting, but I doubt any of them are up to par.
Rachel: Not true, Kurt. In fact, I remember a comment made by one Kurt Hummel about a certain Warbler front man earlier in the year.
Kurt: RACHEL! What part of "ok, this is between us" did you NOT UNDERSTAND? Are you dense?
Finn: Does Burt know you like some rich guy from out of town?
Kurt: Finn, so help me…keep your mouth shut. I don't like anyone! I'm going to kill you, Rachel Berry.
Santana: So it's settled. Meet at Papa Burt's place at 3 pm on Monday. I'll get Artie, Britt and the van and meet you there. We'll pick up Kurt and his babe wagon and go find us a pretty Warbler.
Kurt: I hate you all.
Tina: Hey guys, what did we miss?
Mike: I guess we'll just read through the hundred messages and find out.
Santana: If you two weren't busy swapping spit you'd know the 411. Catch up!
Sunday was the day Kurt and Carol had set aside for the majority of their baking and Kurt couldn't contain his excitement. The previous evening he had mixed up dough that needed to be chilled and it was time to roll it out and go at it with his favorite cookie cutters. Carol concentrated on making buckeyes and they chatted amiably throughout their baking and candy making, swinging their hips from side to side as they listened to the Christmas songs on Kurt's playlist.
Sometime after lunch, Kurt felt a niggling, little tickle in the back of his throat as he iced his cookies. By dinner time, he felt so tired that he begged off from baking and went upstairs to his room to take a nap.
He woke late the following morning, Christmas Eve, barely able to believe he'd fallen asleep at 6:30 pm and then slept through the night. Still a bit sleepy, he pulled on some sweats and headed downstairs to have breakfast with his family.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well? You weren't looking so hot last evening," Carol told him, her smile bright and her eyes brighter. Kurt opened his mouth to reply when his dad came up behind him from the living room, coffee cup in hand.
"Hey, Bud! Missed you last night when I got home. Carol said you weren't feeling so great. You feeling any better today?"
"….."
Kurt opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out but a breathy wheeze that sounded like the noise his great-aunt Martha made when she tried to haul her butt up out of her recliner. Eyes round and surprised, Kurt tried again to no avail. His hand instantly went to his throat and he looked worriedly back and forth between Burt and Carol.
"Kurt…honey, what….?"
"Can't…speak…" Kurt barely whispered out, clearly unamused, head shaking from side to side.
"Let me get you something warm to drink," Carol offered, and set about making Kurt a cup of hot tea.
Two hours and three mugs of tea later, Kurt accepted his fate, that laryngitis had set in and he was absolutely not singing with his friends that day.
He'd gone back upstairs to get back in bed when he noticed his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Without thinking, he grabbed it and swiped to answer, but when he tried to say hello, nothing came out.
"Kurt? Are you there?" Mercedes asked. "Hello?"
He tried to say something…anything…but once again, nothing came out but a wheezing whisper. Frustrated, Kurt ended the call and immediately texted his friend.
Kurt: I can't talk.
Mercedes: Then why'd you answer, goof! I would have left you a message and you could have called me back!
Kurt: No, I mean…I have no voice.
Mercedes: Boy, I know all about being a minority and feeling like nobody hears me…like I have no voice. You don't have to tell me about all that. I'm here to listen when you want to talk. But why did you hang up on me?
Kurt: No, I…Mercedes…I have no voice. I think I have laryngitis.
Kurt added a frowning emoji just to get his point across.
Mercedes: Nope. No way. I'm not buying it. You didn't want to do this thing to begin with and now you're trying to back out. You're not ditching me, Kurt.
Kurt: I can't sing! I can't even speak. There's no point in me going out in the cold, traipsing all over town to "sing" when I can't SING!
Mercedes: I don't care if you don't sing a solitary note, you're going with me. I'm not doing this without you, Kurt. You can stand with me in the back and sway and just move your mouth, but if you bail on me, I promise to hunt down that sexy lead singer for the Warblers on social media and tell him all about your big crush on him. Don't toy with me, boy.
Kurt: YOU WOULDN'T!
Mercedes: Try me. I'm not spending the day with those crazy people without my partner in crime. Plus, I'm more than a little miffed that you didn't tell me about this crush to begin with and I had to hear about it from Rachel. I thought we were besties, Kurt!
Kurt: I don't have a crush. I just said that I thought he had a nice voice!
Mercedes: Uh huh. According to Rachel, you said he was "stunning, had gorgeous, honey colored eyes and you would listen to him sing the phone book any day". I think it's time to find out more about this "Blaine Anderson" and figure out how to get him to notice my fabulous best friend!
Kurt: Mercedes, really…no. I just…I can't do that. You know I can't. He wouldn't give me a second look anyway. Have you SEEN that guy? Just let it be. Let's just go sing and have fun…if we can.
Mercedes: Then you'll still go with us!?
Kurt: If you promise to behave, I'll go sway in the background, but I truly can't sing.
Mercedes: I'm coming over now. I'm bored and it's just a couple of hours early anyway. I'll help you wrap gifts because I know you haven't done that yet…and I'll bring your gift over. That ok?
Kurt: Always! See you soon.
The ride to Westerville was loud – very, very loud. Turns out putting Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel, Kitty and Tina in the car and letting Mercedes choose the music was a recipe for…well, loud. Still, Kurt would be lying if he said they didn't have fun. He "laughed" as much as possible at them and with them as they drove, while Santana followed closely behind in Artie's mom's van with everyone else packed in like sardines.
"Well…here goes nothin'," Puck said as he nearly fell out of the van in Westerville.
"Do you think it's ok to park here?" Mercedes asked, eyeing the obviously upper-class neighborhood with trepidation. While none of them were destitute, they sure didn't like in houses like this. Kurt merely shrugged and Finn assured her that it would be fine. Probably. Hopefully.
"Let's just get on it. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can head home. I'm already cold," Santana groused. "And it's barely 5:30 pm and it's already dark. It wouldn't be so dang dark if we'd left on time!" She glared at Puck and gave him a sneer. He rolled his eyes at her.
"Yeah, well, daylight savings time and all that…" Sam mumbled, staring wide-eyed at the huge homes on the street. "At least that means they all have their Christmas lights on, though, right?" His smile was wide and childish and Kurt caught Mercedes staring just a bit too long. Hmm…well, that's how it was…
Kurt hoped the first house wasn't a sign of things to come. The lights were all on inside the house, but nobody came to the door. It didn't matter. They sang anyway, and Kurt caught a few neighbors on the street peeking out their own windows at them. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He didn't really have to sing and he was hanging out with his friends. He looked absolutely dashing, too, in his newest pair of black skinny jeans and a fantastic scarf he'd treated himself to on Black Friday. Thankfully, there was no snow falling and his hair was on point.
The next four homes all answered the door and even tipped them well. The lady of the house at the fourth house pointed out which homes were most likely to have someone there who'd enjoy hearing them sing, and the club all thanked her and moved on.
By 7:30 pm, they were all but frozen and ready to go home. Kurt's lips were turning purple and he even weighed the merits of stylish gloves versus warm gloves once or twice in his head.
"I say we pack it in, yo," Artie suggested, teeth chattering.
"There's only one more home on this street, you guys. I say we do the last house and then head home. Why skip this one when we've done all the others?" Rachel whined. As much as Kurt wanted to strangle her most of the time, he did envy her love of all things song related. With a groan, they all traipsed up the sidewalk to the last house on the block.
They had exhausted their song list and repeated themselves twice already, but they didn't mind, and started again with O Holy Night, hopeful that they didn't offend anyone inside. Almost immediately a petite, dark-haired woman pulled the door open with a huge grin and clapped her hands together at her chest with glee.
"Oh, Henry, look! Carolers!" she exclaimed, but she focused on Kurt and frowned for a split second. He wasn't sure what he'd done, but he kept moving his mouth along with the song just as he'd done all evening. When they finished the first song, she spoke up immediately.
"Come in, come in! Please warm up a bit before you move on. I can tell that at least a few of you are near to freezing," she smiled, then winked at Kurt. Ahhh, so that was it. She'd noticed he was cold. He smiled in return, fully aware that he couldn't thank her properly. The whole place smelled absolutely divine, the scents of a huge holiday dinner permeating the house. In fact, as they were led inside, Kurt spied a uniformed, rather round, grey-haired woman setting an elaborately decorated holiday table in the dining room adjacent to the entryway. It was set for a large family gathering, easily twelve to fourteen chairs around the table, and there were silver cloches covering large platters, which were evenly placed across the surface of the massive dining set. Kurt looked at the two people before him and wondered where the other dinner guests were hiding.
They were beckoned into the huge entry foyer by the small woman, who had been joined by her husband, while the club sang their version of a holiday classic. She was obviously a fan of music as she bobbed her head in time with the song and smiled as if the carolers were the best thing to have happened to her all day long. Midway through Oh Tanenbaum, a door upstairs opened and a younger man made his way to the top of the stairs, smiling brightly. Kurt instantly thought the man looked familiar, but couldn't place him. He continued mouthing the words and swayed with Mercedes in the back to their practiced, minimal choreography, if one could even call it that. They'd been aware that space would be limited, and just wanted to spice it up enough that they didn't look like singing lumps on a log.
The young man was tall, almost as tall as Finn, and he descended the stairs with grace as he watched them all sing.
"Oh, Cooper!" the woman exclaimed. "Where's your brother? He'd enjoy this so much!" she said, then glanced up the stairs again.
"I think he just got out of the shower, actually. I'm sure he'll be down as soon as he hears the singing," he answered. "In fact, I can almost guarantee he'll want to join them," he teased. Kurt took a minute to study the man as the group began a third song, sure that he'd seen him somewhere before. He looked so familiar, yet Kurt couldn't put a finger on where he might have made his acquaintance.
They continued to sing, as none of them were ready or willing to go back out in the cold. About halfway through their tour of the neighborhood, the wind had picked up a bit and it was now howling outside making it seem that much colder than it truly was.
They decided on one more song, Silent Night, and then they'd be on their way. If this lady wanted her other son to hear them, she had better get his butt down to the foyer. Nobody wanted to wear out their welcome and they were also anxious to get back to the Hummel's house to watch movies and eat cookies.
One verse in and another door on the upstairs landing opened. Kurt could see the door, but not who had walked out of it quite yet. They sang on, most of them probably not even noticing, but Kurt absolutely did, especially when the woman's other son made his way to the top of the stairs.
Kurt's body nearly seized and he temporarily forgot he was supposed to draw in air in order to function. Oh God. Oh God, please no…please, please no…just stay up there, please. Kurt let his eyes fall closed in silent prayer to a deity he was still pretty uncertain about. As the boy grinned and sauntered down the stairs, Kurt caught Rachel's eyes widening and she abandoned all dignity and turned to him with a smile that was equal parts devious and excited. Kurt subtlety shook his head no but she was undeterred. He was certain he was just about to be embarrassed to within an inch of his life. Glancing quickly behind him, Kurt estimated that the door wasn't too far and he could surely make a quick exit and get to his car before the rest of the group could realistically get Artie out of the house, off the front stoop and down the street into the van. He'd be safe, for sure.
Kurt glanced around nervously, ready to make a break for it. At the last minute he took one, last look at the Warbler's front man and caught the boy staring at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes a little wider than they were when he'd first come down. The little, upturned tilt to his lips was the sweetest thing Kurt had ever seen. He couldn't get over how unbelievably adorable the guy was, but he wasn't about to stick around and let the whole glee club make a laughing stock of him in front of their competition.
As inconspicuously as possible, Kurt ducked down a bit and backed toward the door slowly, keeping his eyes on beautiful Blaine Anderson as he did so. Blaine looked a bit panicked, and was clearly about to say something when Kurt felt his hand hit the door. He found the doorknob and twisted and was met with complete and utter chaos as he did.
As the door swung inward, a group of at least six, festively dressed, excited children shoved past Kurt, two huge dogs hot on their heels. Behind them were two adults who were smiling brightly with bags of gifts, bottles of spirits and covered dishes.
"We're here!" the man exclaimed, eyes widening in confusion and surprise when he realized he had no idea who this young man was who'd opened the door for them. The foyer was filled with teenage strangers and everyone was suddenly bunched in an area that should have been spacious, but was now filled to capacity. To make things worse, one of the dogs was making a bee-line toward the fantastic aroma in the dining room, carolers be damned, and he had to get past Artie to do so.
The chaos was instantaneous. Artie saw the dog headed his way and quickly wheeled his chair backward, rolling over Puck's foot. Puck let out a yelp and doubled over, grabbing hold of the handles on Artie's chair and shoving it away from him and off of his foot. Unfortunately, he shoved Artie into Finn, who's knees buckled sending him sprawling. He stumbled forward a step or two, taking out Sam and Santana in the process, then grabbed for anything to keep himself upright. He had hoped to grab hold of the corner of the table, instead only getting a handful of beautiful green and red tablecloth as he toppled, yanking half of the dinnerware and serving platters full of food onto himself and the floor. The dogs instantly zeroed in on the turkey, which was perched perilously on the edge of the table. They bombarded their way through the remaining New Directions, sending them all tumbling like bowling pins while the Andersons watched in horror.
Everyone was scrambling around trying desperately to regain some sort of control of the dogs, one of which was gnawing on the turkey that was now under the dining room table after losing its battle with gravity and plunking onto Finn's belly. The other dog was nosing through a pile of mashed potatoes at the base of the Christmas tree, which had been knocked sideways and now leaned at an alarming angle onto the china hutch. The gravy was a permanent part of the previously beautiful rug beneath the dining set.
"Oh God…" was all Kurt could manage to wheeze out, his eyes filling with wetness as he took in the once picture-perfect Christmas Eve which was now a complete and utter holiday disaster worthy of Youtube.
Food was splattered everywhere. The dogs had devoured the vast majority of the Christmas Eve dinner and the New Directions were at the center of the debacle. Despite the utter despair on the grey-haired woman's face when she took in the scene, Cooper was sitting on the bottom of the staircase, bent in two, laughing his ass off.
"Oh my GOD, this is the best Christmas Eve EVER in the history of Anderson Christmases!" he bellowed, face bright with mirth. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson just stared, mouths gaping, at the remnants of their perfect holiday dinner and said not a single word. The teenagers had righted themselves and were once again standing in the foyer staring around in absolute awe, and Kurt…Kurt stood near the door completely gobsmacked at what had transpired.
Just when Kurt thought things couldn't get any weirder, the younger Anderson brother snorted and yelled out "Bumpuses!" at the top of his lungs, causing everyone to turn to look at him in confusion…and then it all made sense. First Sam snorted, trying to keep in his laughter, then Brittany followed with her own chuckle, and asked the guy if he had homemade bunny pajamas. Not to be outdone, Santana stated that she was certain there was a fishnet clad leg lamp somewhere in one of the windows. One by one, the crazy scene creeped into everyone's memory and they all began to snicker. Cooper sat on the stairs, still holding his stomach, but now saying "fra-geeee-layyyy…it must be Italian!", much to everyone's amusement.
Still shocked and upset at the scene, Kurt finally made a hasty but stealthy retreat and snuck out the front door. He'd made it to the end of the next-door neighbor's driveway before he heard someone calling his name.
"Kurt! Hey…Kurt! Wait up!"
Kurt looked behind him and his eyes went wide. Blaine Anderson was skidding down the slick driveway at a quick pace and he was in hot pursuit of Kurt. He picked up the pace and headed for his Navigator which was now only about fifty feet away.
"Holy shit, your legs have to be even longer than they look in those fantastic jeans…for God's sake, Kurt, please stop!" Blaine yelled, trying to catch up. With a deep breath, Kurt stopped dead in his tracks but didn't turn around.
"Oh, thank you…" Blaine huffed, jogging toward him without so much as a sweater, let alone a coat. "Why are you running away? We were just getting the festivities started in there, obviously," Blaine chuckled.
Kurt opened his mouth to speak, to apologize profusely, but of course, nothing came out. He let his eyes fall shut and shook his head, unsure what he could possibly say to make up for the disaster inside anyway.
"Do you speak?" Blaine teased. "Hey…really, are you ok? I mean, nobody's mad, so please don't think that. My parents are pretty laid back and they've already asked Karen to just order up some Chinese food. You should stay, ya know? They'll order a ton, and I promise this night will be so much freaking better if you stick around…hey," he said again, concerned and staring at a still silent Kurt. "You ok?"
Kurt merely shook his head, still embarrassed, still mortified and still unable to speak. With a deep breath, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on it, then pointed at Blaine as if to ask if he had one as well. Blaine reached for his back pocket and pulled his own phone out.
"You want me to call someone? I can do that, but…seriously, are you ok? Why aren't you talking to me? I know you can speak…I mean…sheez, I've seen the videos and the live version, Kurt. Your voice is…wow…stunning, ok? You don't have to be shy with me. I'm just…me. I won't yell or anything."
Kurt reached for Blaine's phone, but realized there was a pin for it and handed it back, frustrated. He then tapped his own phone a few times, pulled up his messaging app and handed the phone to Blaine with the contacts screen up. He pointed to Blaine, then to the phone, and handed it to the beautiful boy before him.
"You want my number? I would've just given it to you," Blaine grinned, then winked at him, which nearly made Kurt swoon. Lord, but this boy was beautiful. Kurt let the first grin escape and felt his cheeks turn pink. Blaine typed in his phone number and handed the phone back to Kurt.
Kurt: I lost my voice yesterday, but Mercedes…my friend…she insisted I come with everyone and not leave her to deal with Rachel alone.
Blaine felt his phone buzz and keyed in his pin to check the message. His smile lit up half the street. He looked up to meet Kurt's eyes and shook his head. Thumbs working like crazy, he texted back.
Blaine: I'm sorry you lost your voice, Kurt…but if the outcome is the fact that I have your contact information now…well, I'm not sorry about that at all. I wanted to talk to you at Sectionals last year, but the Warblers said you were a distraction…and that I had to wait until after the competition. By then you guys were out the door and on your bus and I'd lost my chance. Your social media is pretty locked down, too.
Kurt saw the message pop up and sucked in a surprise breath, then bit his bottom lip to hold in the giddy giggle that would have tried to escape…if any sound could have escaped at all. Shyly, Kurt examined the ground at his feet and smiled widely when Blaine ducked into his line of vision and smiled back at him.
"I've wanted to talk to you for a while now, Kurt. I hope you'll come back inside and…I dunno…stay for a little while? Seriously, I bet my parents ordered enough food for an army, and they will insist that you all stay for dinner. Anderson family Christmases are always…less than fun, let's just put it that way. My Dad's brother is a total stick in the mud, his kids are obnoxious and as you can see, they insist on bringing those ridiculous dogs everywhere with them. You have made one of the most anxiety ridden nights of the year so much better, Kurt. Please come inside with me? If not because you want some fried rice, then because my eyeballs are actually freezing in their sockets," he laughed.
Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head, but then shrugged and nodded ok.
"Shall we?" Blaine asked, holding out his hand for Kurt to take. "I mean…it's only the gentlemanly thing to do, Kurt. It's a bit slick out here, ya know?"
Hand in hand they walked back to the Anderson's front door. Before Blaine could reach for the handle, Kurt placed a hand on his arm and stopped him. Blaine looked up curiously to see what Kurt was going to…well, obviously not "say", that was for sure.
"Thank you," Kurt mouthed.
"No, really, Kurt. Thank you. This might just be the best Christmas Eve I've ever had. But you know what would make it better?"
Kurt shook his head, curious as to what Blaine would say.
"It would be better if you'd promise to keep that number in your phone and use it tomorrow…or the next day…maybe next week…or all of the above? Coffee would be…nice. But I don't want to be pushy…not at all. I just want to get to know you, Kurt. Can we do that?"
With a pounding heart and a grin that was bigger than any in his recent memory, Kurt nodded an excited yes. Blaine, who was still holding his hand, lifted it to his lips and laid a small peck to the inside of Kurt's wrist with a bashful grin. Kurt wouldn't swear to it, but he was pretty sure he heard Blaine mumble something about the best Christmas ever as he swung the door open and led Kurt inside.
"…..and then, four years later, your Daddy got down on one knee and asked your Papa to marry him, in this very foyer…and Papa said yes. There were no dogs, though, and nobody knocked over the tree that year, either," a smiling Pam Anderson told the three doe-eyed children, who were all snuggled up with her on a sofa in the Anderson living room in matching pajamas.
"Papa say yes?" the smallest one asked, all smiles. She cast a glance across the room at her Daddy and her Papa, grinning wildly at the two men who stood in the doorway, Kurt's arms around Blaine and his chin resting on Blaine's shoulder.
"Papa said yes, and it was the best decision of my life," Kurt murmured in Blaine's ear.
"Going after you that night, after the caroling cluster-fudge…that was the best decision of my life. Thank you for coming back to the house with me."
"Thank you for coming after me," Kurt grinned, watching their three young children sip hot chocolate with their Grammie Anderson.
"I'll always come after you, Kurt. Always."
"Again! Again! Tell a story again!" the dark-haired little boy bellowed, a bright smile on his face.
"How about 'Twas The Night Before Christmas this time?" Pam asked.
"No no, Grammie…want you to tell Daddy's story 'gain. Tell about dogs and turkey and fa ra ra ra ra!" the boy laughed as his Grammie tickled his tummy. She rolled her eyes and began the story again.
"One Christmas Eve, not so many years ago, a group of lovely young boys and girls came to Grammie and Grampie's house to sing songs. One boy, in particular, had a very lovely voice, but he couldn't sing that evening. Your Daddy thought he was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen…" she went on.
"And he still does," Blaine murmured, turning to kiss Kurt's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Kurt."
"Merry Christmas, Blaine."
A/N As always, thank you to Suzanne for looking over the story when I was finished writing it. Of course, any and all mistakes are mine.
If you don't recognize some of the craziness from the scene in the Anderson dining room, I borrowed a little bit of chaos from A Christmas Story. If you haven't seen it, you must make time to watch it...it's a classic.
Best to you and yours this holiday. Stay warm, be well, love much.