Kurt sat on the sofa in his dad's living room, his legs curled up under him as he wrote the letter to Santa.
Dear Santa,
I had an awful day yesterday. I met one of your helpers and he turned out to be a big jerk. For Christmas, would you please send me somebody new to love? Somebody handsome and kind. Someone who won't make fun of me or cheat on me. Someone who will respect my boundaries. Someone who won't tell me everything is my fault all the time. Someone fun I can enjoy New York City with.
A nice booty would be a bonus.
"This is ridiculous," Kurt muttered under his breath. He crumpled up the letter and threw it into the fire in his dad's fireplace. Suddenly the flames burst into a rainbow of sparks that flew up the chimney like fireworks in hues of red, green, gold, blue and purple.
I must be hallucinating, he thought.
Too much of Carole's special eggnog.
Time for bed.
Kurt stood up to head to his old room, and at that moment the rainbow sparks appeared again in the middle of the room and then disappeared, leaving a cloud of smoke behind them.
Kurt started to cough.
The smoke cleared, and a handsome young man was standing there, looking as surprised as Kurt felt. He was tall, with beautiful blue eyes and blond hair. He was wearing the pants and boots from a Santa suit, as well as the suspenders and the red Santa hat.
"Where am I? And where's the rest of my suit?" the young man asked, looking down in confusion at his bare chest. And what a nice chest it was.
"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my living room?" said Kurt suspiciously.
"I have no bloody idea. One minute I'm on stage playing Father Christmas in a show at NYADA and the next minute I'm here in your living room. Who are you?"
Suddenly Kurt realized what was happening.
"I'm Kurt, and I think you're my Christmas present."
The young man eyed Kurt up and down. "Oh no, sweetheart. I think you're mine. And a lovely gift you are."
Kurt giggled.
"Come on, Santa," he said, taking the young man's hand and heading for the stairs. "I'll show you where I keep my jingle bells."
"You can stuff my stocking any time you like," said the man in the Santa outfit.
Outside the picture window, Kurt could hear sleigh bells ringing in the frosty air.
And then Kurt woke up with a start, his arms and legs thrashing around in his bed.
Kurt was in New York, and he was wrapped up warm and snug in a pair of strong arms.
"What is it Kurt?" asked Adam sleepily, tightening his arms around Kurt. "Are you okay?"
Kurt was with Adam.
Everything was right again.
He sighed happily and settled down in Adam's arms.
"Just a dream. I'll tell you about it when you're awake," said Kurt.
"You can tell me now," said Adam, letting out an adorable yawn. "I want to wake up. Merry Christmas, Kurt."
"Merry Christmas, Adam."
Adam lifted a sleepy hand and trailed one finger down Kurt's bare chest, down, down, down.
"If I'm a good boy, will you let me play with your candy cane?" asked Adam.
"Absolutely," said Kurt.
"Merry Christmas, darling," said Adam.
"Merry…ohhh!" said Kurt.
Outside, a deep chuckle was heard. Neither of the boys bothered to wonder how that voice could be hovering outside their apartment building several flights up.
They were much too busy to care.