To say it was cold was a bit of an understatement.
It was the middle of December, just after Christmas, and it was around 20 something degrees outside, with three inches of snow on the ground to match. But, this was a more a promise than a tradition, and Kurt knew you never brake promises.
Which is why the fashionable boy found himself walking down the snowy path at the local cemetary, Blaine at his side. He and Blaine had been together for quite some time, so Kurt felt he should take the shorter boy to meet his mother. The curly-haired boy was more than happy to know that Kurt was finally comfortable enough with him to do this, and had agreed. The countertenor had always went a day or two after Christmas to visit the grave, and when Blaine had asked him why, Kurt only said "It was a promise." When he was eight and his father and him were at his mother's grave for the first time, he promised to visit her every Sunday, and every holiday. He hadn't broken his promise yet.
Kurt coughed, jamming his hands further in his pockets. He had cried a bit, like he normally did, when talking to his mother. But this time Blaine was there, keeping a secure and comforting arm around his shoulder, whispering reassuring words to him. Kurt had smiled, kissing his boyfriend softly.
They were walking back to Kurt's car, when Kurt realized his hands where freezing. He had forgotten his gloves at home, like an idiot. He sighed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and rubbing them together. That did nothing. He blew on them, giving a small agitated noise when his hands stayed cold.
Blaine looked over, seeing Kurt's problem, and plucked off his left hand glove, giving it to Kurt. He smiled at him as the taller boy looked at the glove, confused, but put it on. Ok, that worked. But only on one hand...?
"Blaine, what is this supposed to do? Now both of our hands are col-" Kurt was cut off by Blaine taking his right hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand.
The black haired boy grinned. "Problem solved."
Kurt smiled, chuckling softly and leaning his head on Blaine's shoulder, blushing lightly when the shorter boy kissed the top of his head. The countertenor sighed, peaceful.