The sensation of hot water coursing over winter-chilled skin was delicious. Kurt let go a deep sigh as he stepped beneath the spray, allowing the gushing heat to saturate his hair and chase the shivers from his body. This was one thing he really did miss at Dalton, private showers with just enough water pressure to be really soothing. At an all-boys boarding school with over 200 students, personal bathing facilities simply weren't an option. He shared his bedroom with a roommate and his bathroom with six additional boys.
He smiled, deciding right then that he was going to take his sweet time about his moisturizing routine tonight. At school, he lived on a strict schedule and had been forced to learn haste in his routines. As a result, the number of beauty products he used had decreased by more than half. It really had to be some kind of miracle that his complexion had not completely deteriorated!
Kurt sang as he scrubbed, enjoying that freedom as well. Singing in the shower wasn't forbidden at Dalton, but Kurt preferred to avoid drawing attention to himself when he was standing naked in a room full of other young men. No one had acted rude or paranoid about his sexuality so far, but Kurt had not made up his mind if that was because the boys were unnaturally civilized or if they just didn't realize that he was gay. Without his flashy designer wardrobe, diva attitude – he really was doing his best to tone that down in the spirit of uniformity – and natural tendency to hang out with girls more than boys, Kurt really had become just another face in the crowd.
That thought drew a frown as he rinsed out his shampoo and added conditioner to his hair. In some ways, he hated being just like everyone else. In other ways, it was nice. He certainly did not miss the daily taunts, humiliation and abuses, but he wished that he did not feel so often as though he'd walked straight back into the closet! Blaine, Wes and David all knew the truth about him, but Blaine was the only person who ever acknowledged it. He had informed Kurt that in addition to them, there were six other gay students currently enrolled at Dalton. Blaine had pointed the boys out to him and Kurt had been a little shocked. They were every bit as average . . . he tried hard to avoid the word bland . . . as everyone else at the school.
Average boys with completely average lives. It was a small price to pay for the complete lack of bullying. Wasn't it?
A thud from the bedroom woke Kurt from his inner musings. Finn was probably getting impatient for his turn. It wouldn't be very brotherly of him to use up all the hot water after Finn had been nice enough to let him go first. Washing out the last of the conditioner and giving himself one final rinse, Kurt shut off the spray and wrapped himself in his fluffy white toweling robe, dedicating just a few minutes to blow drying his hair.
Finn looked up and smiled at him as he emerged from the bathroom. "Feel better?"
"Much," he agreed, plunking down in front of his vanity mirror and combing his hair back so he could begin his skin care regimen. Looking at Finn in the mirror, he said, "I left you some hot water."
"Cool. Oh, and Mom said to tell you that dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes. She was getting the biscuit dough ready for baking when I came downstairs."
Kurt nodded and stepped up the pace of his routine, vigorously wiping the exfoliating solution from his skin and starting on the first of his three moisturizers. Screw taking his time! The beef stew that his stepmother was preparing in the crock pot was sending tantalizing odors all over the house, making his stomach grumble eagerly, and Carole's homemade biscuits were to die for. He did not want to be late for dinner and he still needed time to get dressed.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. The glee club is having a holiday thing – a slumber party or whatever she called it – at Tina's house tomorrow night," Finn said as he gathered up a change of clothes in preparation for his own shower. "You're invited, too. In fact, Mercedes and Artie both threatened me with bodily harm if I don't bring you."
Delighted with the prospect, Kurt grinned and turned around to face him. "Are you serious? Artie threatened you?"
"Said he'd run over my foot at every practice from now until Regionals."
Kurt laughed. "Doesn't he kind of do that anyway?"
Finn shrugged. "Yeah, kinda, but that's mostly because I always turn left when I'm supposed to go right or whatever."
"I remember," he said, hoping Finn did not hear the wistful note in his voice. He was happy at Dalton. He was glad to be a Warbler. He was going to get used to not being a part of New Directions. Even if he had to repeat this mantra to himself one hundred times per night until it became truth. Clearing his throat, he raised his voice so that his brother could hear him from behind the freshly closed bathroom door. "Am I supposed to bring anything?"
The water had come on, but Finn had apparently caught the question for he shouted, "Everybody is supposed to bring snack food and some kind of gag gift. We all drew names yesterday to see who we'd be playing Santa for."
"That doesn't exactly help me, Finn!" he called back in exasperation. There was no answer except for Finn's voice rising in a loud rendition of, "Merry Christmas, Baby" and Kurt sighed, realizing he had not been heard.
Not that he could not find a perfect gift that would suit pretty much anyone, but he hated the thought of being completely impersonal when everyone else would be buying for someone specific. Especially with a joke gift! How was he to know what sense of humor to appeal to? Dry wit, childish prank, gross out humor, cute and harmless? It would totally depend on the recipient.
Kurt finished applying the last of his moisturizers and wiped his hands. Mulling the possibilities, he hunted out a fresh pair of boxer-briefs, a pair of black sweat pants and a red sweater that was old enough to be completely out of style but still in excellent condition and one of the most comfortable garments he owned. He smiled as he got dressed and checked his reflection in the vanity mirror, remembering how much his father had loathed these sweaters that stopped just a few inches above the knee when they were in vogue.
Turning to model the garment for himself, Kurt smoothed his hands down his hips and ruefully reflected that the sweater was not nearly as long on him as it once had been. No longer than mid-thigh now and noticeably looser through the midsection. A year made quite a difference when one was only seventeen.
Ah, well, he was not out to impress anyone tonight. With that fact in mind, he ignored the neatly arranged rows of shoes and boots and instead got out the fluffy, black sock-slippers that his great aunt had sent him last Christmas. They were a decided fashion no-no – he could still recall how revolted he had been when they first arrived in the mail - but he had tried them on just so he could avoid lying in the thank you note that claimed they were a perfect fit, and discovered that the absurd looking things were actually super comfortable.
Kurt contemplated his left foot at he pulled on the second slipper. He was not completely sure where a person would shop for them, but a pair of these would make an excellent joke gift for just about anyone, especially if he could find a pair in some particularly hideous color.
He snickered, picturing Noah Puckerman wearing a pair of neon-pink bootie slippers.
"What's funny?" Finn asked, emerging in a cloud of steam and scrubbing his wet hair with a towel. He, too, had opted for sweats, pairing his with a long sleeved McKinley High T-shirt.
"I don't know who I've got for the present exchange thing you mentioned and I was considering random gift ideas," he said honestly, deciding not to confess his thoughts just in case he happened to get Finn as his recipient.
Finn blinked in surprise, chucking his wet towel haphazardly in the direction of the towel rack behind him and shrugging when it landed messily on the floor. "Oh . . . right. I picked for you. I guess I should have told you that."
"Wasn't it supposed to be a secret?" Kurt asked, rolling his eyes as he picked the towel up off the floor and deposited it in the laundry hamper.
Finn just smiled wider. "It still is!" Picking up his backpack, he rummaged through the contents until he exclaimed in triumph and pulled out a tiny crumpled ball of paper. "I didn't look, just in case it was my name you drew, but Tina let me pick twice. Once for me and once for you."
A warm, happy feeling surged through Kurt's belly. He had not been forgotten by his old friends, even though he was not among them anymore. "What if you drew my name for me?"
For a moment, Finn looked baffled by the difficulty of the question, but then he decided. "If that happened, we'll just switch names. I didn't draw myself. You'll know that I'm your Secret Santa but it'll be okay as long as you don't peek at your gift early."
Kurt laughed. "I can live with that." He unfolded the little paper ball and read it. "Oh, crap."
"Did you get yourself?"
"No, I got . . . should I tell you?"
Finn grinned. "I got Puck. Now you have to tell me."
"How is that fair? You've known Puck since you were, what? Six? Seven? I have to pick out a joke gift for the one kid I barely know!"
He pondered that for a second before he realized, "You drew Sam?"
Kurt turned the paper around so he could see it. "Yes, and unfortunately the only things I know about him are that he plays football and likes cheerleaders." He paused, a thoughtful gleam filling his eyes. Brushing a hand through his hair, he chuckled a trifle wickedly. "You know what? I take that back. I do know one other thing about him."
"What?"
Hands rubbing together gleefully, Kurt said, "You'll see. I'm going to call Mercedes after dinner and see if she wants to go shopping with me tomorrow. You want to come?"
Alarm leapt into Finn's eyes. "Oh, no! I'm not going through that again."
Kurt gave him a scolding look. "Finn, don't be a baby. You went shopping with me one time, and even you have to admit that your wardrobe underwent a marked transformation under my supervision. You never looked better."
"I don't care," he said firmly. "We spent two hours just buying shoes, Kurt. Shoes!"
"Wimp." Finn was clearly not budging, and Kurt sighed dramatically. "Fine, have it your way. Just for that, see if I get you anything good for Christmas."
Finn pouted. His lower lip actually popped forward. "That's not very nice. What would Santa say?"
They stared at each other for a long moment, then both of them lost their composure at the same time, giggling and snorting until tears ran down their faces.
Burt Hummel came down the basement steps, smiling as he beheld the two hysterically laughing teenagers, obviously happy to see them getting along so well. "I don't know what's got into you two but if you can get yourselves together enough to eat, dinner is on the table."
Kurt leapt up at once, still grinning broadly, playfully pressing a loud, firm kiss against his father's cheek. It was something he had not done since he was a young child and his eyes sparkled with fun as he took note of the startled expression on his face.
As he thundered up the stairs, focused on the waiting food, Finn grinned at his step father.
"It's really cool to have him home, isn't it?"
Burt wiped off his cheek, chuckling fondly as he followed the boys back upstairs. He sighed contentedly as he replied, "It sure is."
