A/N: Oh ho ho, I missed the memo that tomorrow's Halloween because I'm totally in the Christmas spirit. I've been listening to Christmas music ever since Tuesday when the album list for Glee's Christmas CD was spilled. I was totally inspired and I had nothing but free time in the computer lab at school this week, when this started. If you don't want song spoilers for the Christmas CD, I'd advise you to leave right about now.

When I heard that my boys were singing this song - one of my all-time favorites- I couldn't help myself. I just had a lot of fun with it, so I hope you have a lot of fun reading it!

"What do you mean you've never done this before?" Kurt asked incredulously.

He had to constantly remind himself that this was his and Blaine's first Christmas together, and they had yet to figure out each other's quirky traditions. This just so happened to be one of his.

"I never get the chance," Blaine said with a shrug. "My parents like to put the tree in the foyer, on the tile. So it never occurred to me to try."

"Oh," Kurt replied simply. "Well everyone knows the proper place to put the Christmas tree is in the living room," he teased. "Lots of open space, lots of soft carpet," gesturing widely for emphasis.

"So I've gathered," Blaine said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Remind me again what exactly we're doing?"

"Follow my lead," was all Kurt said as he knelt down and lay down on the floor.

Blaine frowned, but didn't voice his concern. He mimicked Kurt's movements until they were both lying on the carpet. Kurt wiggled a bit until his face was hidden beneath the bottom-most branches of the tree.

"Kurt…" Blaine began.

"Just get under here," Kurt commanded.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Blaine muttered before scooting himself until he was on his back and looking up the tree as well. "Okay, I'm here," he stated.

Kurt turned his head to face Blaine. His eyes were alight with excitement. "Are you ready?" he asked, the switch that controlled the lights poised in his hand.

"Impress me," Blaine replied.

With a click, Kurt had the entire tree lit up.

They'd spent all evening untangling multi-colored twinkle lights and winding them around and around the tree, from the base all the way to the top where Blaine had put on the star with the assistance of a step-ladder.

"It's tradition for guests to put on the star," Kurt explained when he'd done it. "Brings good luck for the coming year or something."

They'd brought out boxes and boxes of ornaments, more ornaments than Blaine could imagine. At his house, his mother had strictly silver ornaments that all looked alike. Once, Blaine had bought her a new set of colorful ornamental orbs, but she refused to put them up. She wanted her tree to look "perfect". He was seven at the time.

He'd never even so much as hung a single decoration - his mom always made the housekeeper tend to it, not wanting to bother with the effort.

At Kurt's house, everything was different – everything. He, Kurt, Finn, and Rachel had hauled out boxes – everything from shoeboxes to huge packing boxes – of ornaments. Most of them were hand-made, either from Kurt and Finn's school days or ones they had picked up from clearance sales over the years.

Each one was quirky, showcasing a piece of the Hummel-Hudson family's personalities. Finn had a collection of sports ornaments, one for each of his favorite teams. Kurt had bought his father an ornament with a tire on it as a joke and Carole had a huge collection of Disney themed orbs and hanging figurines.

"Where on Earth did you find an ornament with this 2010 Vogue Cover on it?" Blaine asked, the trinket in question dangling from his fingers.

"I made it," Kurt answered simply, grabbing it from Blaine and looking for an open spot to place it.

"Wow," was all Blaine could say as he watched Kurt hang it from one of the higher branches near the top. The tree was so tall that he had to stand on his tip-toes to place it.

"I still can't believe you never made any ornaments in school," Kurt teased as he pulled out one of his own. It was a stocking with one of his grade school pictures in the center, like a frame. The stocking was made from actual gingerbread. "Come here," he said, holding out the ornament to Blaine.

"What for?" Blaine asked warily, but he wandered closer, careful not to step on the ornaments still lying on the floor.

"Just inhale," Kurt replied, holding out the ornament under Blaine's nose.

Blaine took a breath, giving Kurt a smug as hell smirk afterwards. He received a sharp jab in the ribs.

"Through the nose, smart ass," Kurt specified.

Blaine held back a laugh and humored his boyfriend. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He was surprised that the ornament still had the delectable smell of spice, as if it were baked just the day before instead of nine years age like it probably was.

"That's what I thought," Kurt said, giving Blaine a quick peck on the lips before flouncing away.

"I wish we could have done cool things like that at my elementary school," Blaine said, giving a small sigh. "But you know private schools. They try to keep things nondenominational."

"Dude, that blows," Finn said from the other side of the tree. He came around, a puzzled look on his face. "I don't even know what nondemotional means."

"Nondenominational, Finn," Rachel corrected as she bustled past him, gathering some gold tinsel in her arms.

"Yeah, that one," Finn said with a wave of his hand. "So no gingerbread houses?"

"Oh those were my favorite," Rachel cut in, clapping her hands with excitement. "The teachers always had us get an empty milk carton from the cafeteria - "

" – and they had us stick it on top of a square of cardboard - " Finn added

"Then we'd bring a whole can of frosting to school – very exciting for a young child – and we'd frost the entire carton and square and then stick on the graham crackers - " Kurt supplied, his smile wide.

"Oooh and we'd bring candy!" Rachel said. "Like skittles, M&Ms, gum drops, marshmallows, and sprinkles to decorate with. Might I add that my gingerbread house was always the best? My fathers taught me well. Now that I think back on it, they weren't really gingerbread houses, but the point still stands."

"Oh my gosh, I used to barter candy like no one's business," Kurt recalled. He was perched on the arm of the couch with his arms folded over his knees. "I could weasel anyone out of their candy for a 'fair trade'. A whole bag of gumdrops for a Twizzler. Even as a youngster, I was clever. I made all the boys cry," he whispered to Blaine with a wink.

"What else did we do?" Rachel wondered aloud. "Oh, the popsicle-stick reindeer. Those were famous."

"The candy cane hearts," Finn added, holding up an example. "My mom saved every ornament I ever made in school."

"In Kindergarten, I colored in this lovely angel here," Kurt said, picking it up from the floor. It was a laminated angel and the crayon marks were straying well outside of the lines, as per the usual childish coloring technique. Of course, the angel's skin was colored purple and her hands were blue, finishing off with a shockingly pink robe and a red trumpet. "I was a creative child," Kurt explained, moving to hang it up on the tree.

"Oh, uh, the picture frame ornaments," Finn added, showing one of his own that held his third grade picture, two front teeth missing in his wide smile.

"That is adorable," Rachel giggled. She grabbed it for closer inspection. "No grade was complete without the picture frame ornament. Personally, my face is on a Christmas tree, a Santa Claus, a star, a gingerbread man, and a present – with a bow," she added for good measure.

"Notorious, wasn't it?" Kurt said, looking at another one of his own. "But my dad always loved them all the same. They're so tacky, but I could never bear to throw them away," he admitted.

"Wow," Blaine said again. "I never had any of those things. We never even decorated the classrooms at all. And my house never looked like this," he gestured to the room around him.

The Hummel-Hudsons had really gone all out. Wreaths adorned every door, the smell of fresh cookies wafted from the kitchen, there was an eight foot tree in the living room, and lights and tinsel were hung throughout the room. Through the window, Blaine could see the reflection of the light coming from the multi-colored bulbs that were bordering every inch of the roof. A nearby stereo was playing a nonstop stream of Christmas songs, causing the group to break into song with the familiar choruses from time to time. Everything was colorful and welcoming, and fully alive. Blaine had never felt so at home – it was like a whole new experience.

"Well thankfully you're here with us to have real Christmas experiences for once. You're going to have a normal Christmas this year," Kurt joked.

"Normal?" Blaine razzed back. "It looks like Christmas came to your house and barfed all over it."

"Once Kurt starts decorating, he can't be reigned in," Finn offered. "I found that out the hard way last year."

"He tried to hang his stocking at the end of his bed. That's simply not how it's done," Kurt explained crossing his arms.

"You know what would be fun?" Rachel interrupted. "If we all went Christmas Caroling." When no one took her up on her suggestion, she grabbed Finn's hand and tugged on it. "Please, oh please? Wouldn't it be fun, Finn? Wouldn't it?"

A small smile tugged at the edges of Finn's lips. He tilted his head back and forth as if he were thinking it over. "Oh, alright. If it means I can be with you, I'll go," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"You're the best!" she gushed, already running out of the room to get her jacket and scarf from where they hung in the closet.

"You guys wanna come along?" Finn offered half-heartedly, already sensing the answer.

"Not on your life," Kurt answered swiftly, continuing to hang the few ornaments left. "It's already been snowing for a couple of hours – liable to turn into a full on storm at any moment - and my only jackets are from last year's collection. So not happening."

Blaine shot him a skeptical look, cocking an eyebrow for good measure.

"Okay, so I'm a wimp when it comes to the cold," Kurt admitted. "Plus we get harassed enough when we perform with the Glee club. I'm not going to willingly march up to someone's house just to have them slam the door in my face and freeze my ass off at the same time."

"Maybe some other time," Blaine answered politely to Finn before turning back to his boyfriend and shaking his head tauntingly.

When Finn had left the room, Kurt let out a laugh that he'd been stifling.

"What?" Blaine asked, wanting in on the joke.

"I was just thinking about how if we were with the Warblers, we probably could go caroling. Everyone loves the Warblers. It'd be even better than the Gap Attack."

"We swore never to speak of that again…"

"Well I can think about it all I want," Kurt replied, giggling as he did so. "We could call it the Warblers' Stoop Attack."

Blaine could feel himself turning red. "Shut up."

"Wow," Blaine whispered. He'd lost track of how many times he'd said the word throughout the course of the evening, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it. Everything was wonderful.

"I know," Kurt said softly.

Blaine looked up through the branches of the fir tree.

There was so much to see. Blaine could decipher each and every single branch and the patches of illuminated green bristles; from the ones that dangled over his face, threatening to tickle his chin, all the way to the very top if he shifted his head just to the right. There were greens, bright reds, shades of orange, purple, magenta, shining yellows, and glistening blues.

There were as many colors and twinkling lights at every angle as there were stars in the sky. Blaine's eyes darted from one spot to the next, wanting to take it all in at once. He could see areas of secondary colors forming where the occasional two pools of light overlapped. He could see the ornaments hanging from the branches, some of them reflecting the light and casting it off in a new direction.

He clasped his hands above his chest, palms splayed against it as he breathed deeply. It was the distinct, crisp smell of pine that could never quite be mimicked by those flimsy air fresheners. It was fresh and sharp against his nose. It smelled like Christmas.

His heart skipped a beat as Kurt's hand made its way into his own. Their fingers intertwined easily, knowing exactly the spaces they routinely filled. Blaine used his other hand to cover the conjoined pair, holding it close. He turned to see Kurt already smiling at him, returning the gesture without missing a beat.

There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Think of my life-long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied - If you caught pneumonia and died
I really can't stay - Get over that hold out
Oh, baby it's cold outside

Blaine couldn't suppress his smile as he watched Kurt start blushing under his gaze.

"What?" He prompted, waiting for Kurt's answer.

"Nothing," Kurt replied. Blaine squeezed his boyfriend's hand. "Fine," he relented. "I was just remembering this time last year. You really were clueless, weren't you?"

"I was," Blaine agreed. "And you were right," he said, looking upwards again. "This is the only way to see a Christmas tree. Everything else is secondary."

"I told you so," Kurt replied smugly. "My mom was the one who told me about it. Every year up until the year she died, we would decorate the tree together and lie down under it. She'd tell me about what Christmas was like in her house and all the wacky things my grandparents made them do out of 'tradition'. She vowed never to force me to dress up as a wise man," he recalled with a small smile. "I lived for those times."

"Well now you have me to lie under the tree with," Blaine reassured him.

"Are you going to force me to dress up as a wise man?"

"No," Blaine answered. "That is, not unless you want to."

"Not a chance."

Blaine found himself lying on the couch, shifting to accommodate Kurt's weight as the taller boy leaned over him. Kurt's lips were soft and sweet, pressed lightly against his own. Blaine could hear the faint popping of charred wood emitting from the fireplace, but the heat he was feeling had nothing to do with the warmth of the fire.

He framed Kurt's face with a hand, pulling him closer, encouraging him. Blaine smiled to himself as he savored the taste of Kurt: part peppermint, part chocolate chip from the cookies they'd indulged in earlier. Blaine loved that if he took in a deep breath as he opened his mouth wider how he could still smell thing lingering aroma of pine clinging itself to Kurt's skin and clothes. This was truly the only way to kiss someone; much better than from under the mistletoe Kurt had tricked him under only fifteen minutes prior.

Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

"What if Finn and Rachel come back?" Blaine asked, pulling back slightly so that he might have a chance at forming coherent thoughts.

"They won't be any home time soon," Kurt replied.

Before he could give what he was sure was an educated, reasonable answer, Blaine was being shushed by Kurt and his very convincing mouth. From the second their lips met again, Blaine couldn't remember his argument in the first place. Who would want to argue with this?

He felt Kurt's hand sliding against his jaw, travelling down to his neck, the warmth of his palm radiating against Blaine's throat. Kurt's fingertips ghosted across Blaine's pressure point, causing his breath to hitch as he tightened his grip on Kurt's waist. He said a silent prayer of thanks that the only thing Kurt was wearing up top was a white sweater. He balled some of the fabric in his fist, encouraging Kurt to deepen the kiss.

It doesn't show signs of stopping
And I've bought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Blaine curled his leg around Kurt's hip, attempting a daring move to flip him over on the span of the wide couch. Kurt laughed, fighting back - only not really – not using enough force to stop him. They were a tangle of limbs, knocking into one another clumsily, broad smiles on both of their faces as they repositioned themselves until at last Blaine was the one pinning Kurt to the couch. As Blaine caught Kurt's lips once more he could feel his boyfriend smiling, both of their breathing uneven as they continued giggling.

When Blaine felt Kurt's tongue against his teeth, he stopped laughing. He opened his mouth, expectant and deliberate as his own tongue found the familiar moist texture, sucking lightly as he drew it into his mouth. Their movements were slow and thorough, leaving no surface untouched, no skin unscathed with burning contact, no rushing necessary.

Blaine held himself away purposely, not wanting to turn their slow cadence of movements into a desperately tempo-ed misconstruency. Their mouths were soft against one another, the touch of which was light as a feather and oh so sweet. So soft it was almost verging on the edge of painful. Blaine could feel Kurt's warm breath skating across his lips, across his cheeks, whispering at the very edges of the curls that framed his own face.

Blaine broke away suddenly, licking his already chapped lips – chapped from kissing, not exposure to the cold awaiting him outside – and sitting up on his knees.

"Kurt, it's late and I've overstayed my welcome…" he began babbling, not wanting to go at all; wanting Kurt to shut him up. "Finn and Rachel are going to be back any time now, your parents' plane is supposed to be here by now. I don't want to be caught in a…compromising situation…" He couldn't help it when his lips quirked up in a smile.

Before Kurt could make a grab for him, he was up and walking towards the door, grabbing his scarf from where he left it draped across a chair in the dining room. He was digging in his pockets for his car key, purposely fumbling as he stood right in front of the door. He tried – and failed – not to grin when he heard Kurt's footsteps behind him and felt his arm being tugged.

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt said in his most authoritative voice, pushing Blaine's back flush against the front door. "Do you honestly think you're leaving here without saying a proper goodnight?"

"I never intended to," Blaine said with a smirk.

When we finally kiss goodnight
How I'll hate going out in the storm
But if you'll really hold me tight
All the way home I'll be warm

A good twenty minutes later, Blaine's scarf was discarded on the floor where he dropped it roughly nineteen minutes earlier, his hands finding better uses for themselves tangled in Kurt's hair and pressing against the small of his back respectively. Blaine moaned softly as he felt Kurt's teeth working against his bottom lip, nipping and dragging. Kurt's hands were pinned on either side of Blaine's body against the door, trapping him in the world's least threatening ambush in its history.

Blaine moved his hand until it was under Kurt's sweater, pressing against his hot skin, wanting to wander further, maybe remove the garment altogether to join that forlorn scarf on the floor. But his conscience got the better of him when he felt Kurt melt into him, a small moan escaping his lips against Blaine's.

The fire is slowly dying
And, my dear, we're still goodbye-ing
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow, let it snow,let it snow

"I really have to go," Blaine murmured, pulling away for a second time and looking up into Kurt's dark eyes. "I love you," he said, voice verging on a plea for understanding. "But I have to go. My parents are expecting me home soon." When Kurt's lower lip stuck out in an adorable pout, Blaine groaned. "I love you," he repeated.

"Do you have to?" Kurt said, fingering the collar of Blaine's jacket, gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips. "Couldn't you stay just one more minute?" He pressed a gentle kiss to Blaine's mouth, attempting to entice him into forgetting that he had to leave.

Blaine shut his eyes, willing all his self control to the forefront of his mind instead of how devastatingly handsome Kurt looked in his tight red pants with a cliché green cuff on the bottom of each leg.

"This is me, leaving," Blaine said, turning the handle on the doorknob, getting ready to swing the door outwards.

He grunted as he shouldered the heavy wood, putting all his force into it. The door wouldn't budge. It didn't give - not a single inch.

"Trouble?" Kurt asked, watching Blaine with amusement. "I thought you were leaving."

"Well, I would," Blaine said, his voice strained with effort, "But your door won't open. It swung outwards the last time I checked."

Kurt wandered over to a nearby window, wiping the surface with his sleeve to get a clearer look. He nodded his head, unsurprised by whatever he saw there.

"Snowed in," he said with a shrug. "It's snowing pretty hard out there. What a shame," he said, not sounding like it was a shame at all.

Blaine narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Did you plan this?" he asked warily. "Were you keeping me here until you were sure we were snowed in?"

"Maybe," Kurt sing-songed, wandering back over to Blaine and grabbing his hand, pulling him away from the door.

"Wait, what about Finn and Rachel?" Blaine said, worry embedded in his voice. "Aren't they out there?"

"No," Kurt answered smugly. "Finn texted me about an hour back saying he was going to walk Rachel home. They're probably snowed in now too."

"You sly dog," Blaine said, for lack of a better come back.

Just at that particular moment, the phone rang and Kurt walked over to the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?" he answered, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

Blaine snuck up behind him, winding his arms around Kurt's waist and pulling him close, pressing soft kisses to the nape of his neck. He heart Kurt giggle as he tilted his head, giving Blaine even better leverage. Blaine hummed contentedly against his neck as he listened to Kurt's side of the conversation.

"Oh no," Kurt said, sounding disappointed. But Blaine knew better than to trust his conniving boyfriend; he knew Kurt could act when he wanted to. "Are you sure?" Kurt asked. "And there's nothing they can do for you?"

Kurt stood in silence for a while, listening to the person on the other line. He nodded his head occasionally, murmuring agreements here and there. Blaine admired how much of a good listener Kurt was considering that his boyfriend's lips were working pretty well on his neck.

"Well I intend to write a strongly worded letter…" Kurt began. Blaine shook his head and rolled his eyes at Kurt's feigned theatrics. "All right. Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. Yeah. I love you, too. Bye."

"Let me guess," Blaine said, exaggerating his tone. "The plane can't land."

"Landing strip's too slick with ice," Kurt confirmed. "Hey, don't look at me like that, I don't control the weather."

"I wouldn't be surprised…"

"So I guess that means you're stuck here," Kurt said, turning around into Blaine's embrace. "With little old me," he added.

"Theoretically," Blaine said, moving his lips to Kurt's jaw and tilting it upwards. "But I could climb out of a window, you know."

"And drive on the slick roads?" Kurt asked skeptically. "I don't think so."

"Just you watch me," was Blaine's empty threat against Kurt's throat.

Kurt's hands cupped the sides of Blaine's face, bringing it up from his neck and to his mouth. Blaine kissed him back enthusiastically, enjoying the joining and parting of their lips against one another. He braced on hand on Kurt's chest, the other on his hip. Kurt sighed, tilting his head slightly and angling himself to deepen the kiss, drawing closer and pressing himself against Blaine.

"Well," Blaine said between kisses. Kurt wouldn't let his mouth stray away for too long, murmuring all kinds of protests. "Maybe I could stay…" Another kiss. "A little while…" Yet another kiss. "Longer."

"I'd like that," Kurt whispered, winding his arms around Blaine's neck.

After that, the pair didn't do much talking, holding one another close as the storm raged on outside. As the embers of the fire died down to nothingness, they found warmth in each other's bodies, not wasting a single second of that blisteringly cold night. While they knew that alone they wouldn't fare well in the freezing weather, they could withstand it as long as they were together. They weren't bothered any longer by hindrances such as a little bit of snow.

The fire is slowly dying
And, my dear, we're still goodbye-ing
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

A/N: Yes or yes? Hope you liked that, cuz I know I had fun writing it!

Review and let me know!