A/N: So, this chapter epically kicked my ass. I really, *really* apologize for the long wait. My Klaine muse went on vacation (or my Puckurt muse staged a hostile takeover. Knowing Puck, probably the latter), work has been horrid, my internet was down for over two weeks, and real life kept getting in the way. Read on. Oh, and you should all go check out the story 'Odds and Ends' by Stardust585, if you're a Furt brotherly fan (there's Klaine in there too), and 'Kiss' by foraworldundeserving.


"Happy Christmas Eve Day!" Blaine announced cheerily. Kurt had been up on the phone with Rachel late last night, trying once again to console her over the epic falling out between she and Finn. This caused Blaine to be awake before him, which annoyed Kurt considerably. Yet, Kurt still got the air mattress.

"Has anyone ever informed you of how annoying you are?" Kurt glared at his best friend, nursing what must be his fourth cup of coffee. Kurt was not a morning person without at least three cups of coffee, and the amount of coffee consumed was linked to the amount of sleep gotten.

"Multiple times!" Blaine tried to be as upbeat and happy as possible, because he knew it would drive Kurt insane. Kurt had worked his hardest to be annoyingly cheery whenever Blaine was cranky, all he was doing was returning the favor.

"At least we got all the decorating done." Blaine had been included in Kurt's whirlwind of decorating, which the rest of the family had removed themselves from the path of. Kurt draped matching, non-tacky tinsel, ornaments, and every type of Christmas decoration in existence over every inch of the house. It looked festive, yet classy. He had expected nothing less.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me that you were my slave driver for most of the last week!" They had actually had fun and joked around putting up the decorations (though they were still efficient), but Blaine was seeing how much of a rise he could get out of Kurt. It felt like bating a dragon.

"If you want a slave driver, try being Ms. Sylvester's head Cheerio for a week. Next to her, I'm a saint," Kurt said with what would have been a snort from anyone else, but from him (so he claimed) was a 'sniff.'

"I think I'll pass, thanks. Normal males bodies are not meant to be that flexible," Blaine teased. Kurt glared at him with little-to-no venom.

"I resent the implication that I am not normal," he said with a dramatic huff. Naturally, Blaine's best friend had to be a drama queen.

"You're not normal. You're special." The words sounded a lot friendlier in his head. When they came out of his mouth, it sounded like he was hitting on Kurt. Kurt didn't respond except for a roll of his eyes. "Don't be such a bum," Blaine joked with a smile, hitting his best friend lightly on the shoulder.

"I'm not being a bum. You're being ridiculous, and overly cheerful to boot," Kurt grumbled, finishing the last of his coffee.

"And you're exceptionally cranky," Blaine noted. "What's wrong?" A grimace flashed across Kurt's face before it settled into the defensive mask that Blaine hated, and he knew he had guessed right.

"Besides the fact that I had a momentary lapse into idiocy and decided in this time to invite an extremely cheerful moron to my house for eleven days, nothing really." Blaine chuckled at Kurt's rather dry humor, despite the fact he was the one being insulted.

"Well, 'nothing really' doesn't mean 'nothing.'" Blaine left his statement open, knowing that would prompt Kurt to talk.

"It's nothing, really. I just wish Finn and I were a little closer." Kurt shrugged. "It's not like I don't understand why we're not, but..." Kurt let his sentence trail off.

"That bothers you too," Blaine finished Kurt's sentence for him. Kurt just shrugged and went for another cup of coffee. "Well, I have an idea," Blaine offered. He didn't make a habit of offering his ideas unless he was sure they were fool-proof, because they had a tendency to backfire in dramatic ways.

Kurt just sighed, taking a sip of his fifth cup of coffee. "What?" he asked, voice dry.

"Try creating a tradition." The look Kurt gave Blaine made him feel like a idiot. "Something you do every day or every week, even if it's just talking."

"Maybe that's a good idea," Kurt hedged carefully. Whether he was unsure of the idea or whether he though Blaine was an idiot and he didn't want to hurt his feelings, Blaine didn't know.

"There's got to be something the two of you have in common, even without New Directions." Blaine had grown to like Finn. He was easy-going, puppy-dog-like, rather loveable, and (though Blaine would never admit it out loud) very cute. Honestly, Blaine could see why Kurt had liked him. It didn't hurt that the two had a lot in common.

"Maybe," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "Well, maybe I'll do something tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?" Christmas Eve, it was perfect!

"Finn and the rest of New Directions are making a party at Mr. Schue's apartment." Blaine could hear the hurt in Kurt's voice and knew he hadn't been invited.

"Did Finn tell you that?" Well, if he had, that was progress, right?

"No, Mercedes did." Kurt gave him a wry look, and it had clearly been obvious what he'd been thinking.

"What exactly does making a party mean?" Blaine tried to change the subject, and Kurt gave him another look. Apparently, he was failing at subtle.

"Mr. Schue was going to be all alone on Christmas Eve, and he said he was okay with it. Rachel, however, was not okay with it, and, with the help of Coach Sylvester, is gathering all of New Directions in his apartment, decorating it, and bringing food. Sadly, she doesn't even celebrate Christmas." Blaine had to laugh a little, because oh, Rachel, she was so... unique.

"Your friends are out of their minds, you know that right?" Kurt just shrugged.

"At least she's not moaning about their break-up again."


Kurt spent most of the morning doing last minute wrapping for his dad, and Blaine, to be honest, spent most of the day watching him. It was kind of entrancing, watching the focus in his glasz eyes, which seemed green in the dim lighting. He was... perfect.

"Have you been listening to me?" Kurt snapped. Of course, the true answer was 'no,' but the correct answer was 'yes.'

"Of course," Blaine lied. Kurt obviously was not fooled.

"Then what did I just say?" Blaine shifted guiltily before deciding on giving Kurt the puppy-dog eyes. They always worked. "You weren't listening," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes, but he didn't sound mad.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said with a pout. Kurt wasn't actually mad at him, he hoped.

"Well, as I was saying, my father and Carole are going to a big Christmas concert in Charleston, so they won't be home until really early tomorrow morning. So, it's just you and I tonight." Blaine could hear the sadness in Kurt's voice, and remembered Kurt had said Christmas was 'usually family time.'

"Wait, like South Carolina?" If they hadn't left yet, there was no way they would make it to South Carolina by nightfall, it was half a day away.

"No, West Virginia. It's only four hours away." Kurt still sounded sad.

"Oh, alright. So, what do you want to do to celebrate?" Blaine asked, trying to be cheerful. This Christmas would be fun for Kurt, he would make it so.

"I don't know," Kurt said with a shrug. Oh, so helpful.

"Well, what did you do before?" Kurt stared at him as if he was an idiot. "With your mom," Blaine added carefully, hating the flash of pain that went through Kurt's eyes.

"Usually curl up and watch White Christmas. We'd always open 'one' present early. We would usually end up opening two or three presents, I had her so wrapped around my finger." Kurt laughed slightly. "It'd just be... tradition, like you said earlier, and it was so familiar and so perfect. We," Kurt cleared his throat, "stopped making it a big event after she died."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said softly, resisting the urge to brush away the one lone tear that had escaped from Kurt's eyes.

"It's been years, Blaine, it's alright." Kurt tied the bow on the present he'd been wrapping. "But when I was a kid, the days before Christmas were amazing. We would build snowmen, go ice skating, drink hot cocoa, make dad do all of the shoveling," Kurt smiled softly, obviously lost in nostalgia.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Blaine asked brightly, bouncing off the bed. His best friend looked at him like he was insane. "It's Christmas Eve Day! We have to get going!" It was going to be A Christmas to Remember!

"Blaine, it's freezing outside." Kurt was still staring at him like he though the tenor had gone off the deep end.

"It's winter, dummy, of course it's cold! That's part of the fun! There are such things as indoor skating rinks!" Kurt still looked like he thought Blaine had gone mad. "Come on, we have phone calls to make!" Ignoring the fact that Kurt still had more to wrap, Blaine practically bounced out of the room.

"Phone calls?" Kurt's voice trailed after him as the boy did the same.

"Of course! We might be all alone tonight, but New Directions are available for the day, aren't they?" There must be at least one member of the club who wanted to come ice skating with them.

"Are you out of your mind?" Kurt finally asked. "New Directions already tried rehearsing in a roller rink. Trust me, it was a fantastic failure. Is this part of your plan to break every single one of New Directions' collective bones so they won't be our competition for Regionals? That is not okay with me, Anderson!" Kurt had so much more imagination than most people.

"You have cheerleaders in your club! Surely some of you must have coordination... maybe we just won't invite Finn." Kurt giggled. "Yeah, we're definitely not inviting Finn."

"Blaine, I appreciate the effort, but you don't have to do this." Kurt followed his best friend into the kitchen. It was there that Blaine realized that A) he had a cell phone, B) he would have no way of knowing New Directions' numbers otherwise, and C) he had no reason for going to the kitchen.

"I don't have to, I want to! Honestly, Kurt, you do so much for everyone else. Let someone do something for you for a change." Blaine pulled out his phone. Ignoring the 34 messages he had from Charlie (he hadn't texted the other boy since he had arrived at Kurt's house), he dialed Mercedes.


"This is a ridiculous idea, you know," Kurt said, teeth clattering as they walked into the Lima Community Skating Rink. "Somebody's going to get hurt."

"You're such a pessimist. Do you honestly believe that everyone in your old club is completely incapable?" Blaine's confidence was slightly ruined by the fact that he tripped as he was speaking and almost face-planted onto the ice-covered concrete.

"Yes, I honestly believe that everyone in the New Directions have no coordination. Clearly, you don't either." Kurt had stepped away as Blaine started to fall, clearly not planning to go down with him.

"You have no faith. It'll be fun!" Blaine tried to encourage his friend as he held the door open for him. Kurt blushed, but walked through anyway.

All of New Directions (apparently, everyone had been available. Therefore, there was no way to get out of inviting Finn) was waiting in a section of the bleachers to the left of the door. Brittany had her hand pressed against the top of her mouth like she had burned herself on the ridiculously hot cocoa she had bought at the rink and Artie was now holding for her. Finn and Rachel were sitting on the opposite ends of the group, Finn chatting with Sam, and Rachel arguing with Santana.

"Hey guys!" Blaine called out cheerily as they walked over to the group.

"Hey soon-to-be-Regionals-losers!" Oh, Rachel. Kurt scoffed.

"Well, that was shockingly witty, Rachel. Have you been taking lessons from Santana?" he drawled sarcastically, earning a glare from the Latina Cheerio.

"Shut up, Hummel, or I'll crack one of your nuts!" she called loudly across the rink, not caring that there were children skating mere feet from where she was sitting.

"Santana, dearest, we're in a children's rink! Perhaps you could try to keep the language PG?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck that!" she yelled even louder, clearly trying to annoy Kurt, who simply ignored her.

"Everyone ready to skate?" Rachel asked cheerfully, clearly trying to break up the argument.


Rachel was spinning in circles and trying moves that she obviously could not perform. Probably trying to impress Finn, who was slipping and falling all over the place and occasionally dragging people down with him, club members and strangers. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany were twirling around and performing flawless double axles, gaining them quite a crowd from the other, inexperienced skaters. Mercedes, Tina, and Lauren were just skating in circles around the ice, chatting and probably gossiping. Puck was trying to hit on every girl skating, while Sam and Mike were part of the crowd watching the Cheerios. Artie was still talking to the managers, trying to get his wheels changed so he could come out on the ice as well.

Kurt and Blaine were circling and weaving through other skaters. For once, it was Blaine who was going on and on about what they would do today, and Kurt rolling his eyes, pretending he wasn't listening even though he was.

"...we could build a snowman, and we could find some old cheap scarf to put on it, don't worry, it won't be one of your McQueen ones. We could make snow angels, if you'd stop being prissy about your clothes for five seconds. Oh! We should go sledding!" Blaine stopped his tirade to look over at his best friend, who was watching Quinn attempt a triple axle. "I know you're listening to me," he accused the counter tenor.

"Of course I am. I'm just ignoring you for favor of something more interesting than your endless rant of what you seemed to be convince we have to do before the sun goes down or else the world will perish," Kurt said dryly, spinning around to Blaine's other side as the tenor tried to block Quinn from his view. "She totally nailed that."

"By the way, I like your jacket, though it doesn't seem like much of a winter jacket." For the record, the jacket was cute, and actually, surprisingly masculine, but it didn't look Ohio-snow-proof.

"Well, technically, it's a windbreaker." Blaine gave his friend a look. Honestly, Kurt would rather look fabulous and freeze to death than wear something without a famous name attached to it. "But it's Gucci!" Kurt defended. Point proven.

"Someday, your obsession with fashion will cause you serious harm," Blaine vowed, bumping his friend's shoulder.

"Well, that's when I'm going to need you the most, isn't it?" Kurt said with a grin, quickly dodging the hand that flew to ruffle his hair. "Anderson! Do. Not. Touch. The. Hair."

"Couldn't resist," Blaine grinned back at his friend. Kurt looked exceedingly cute, he had to admit, with his rosy cheeks, slightly ruffled hair, and stylish jacket. He was also skating as if he could join the girls with the double axles at any moment, and Blaine wondered if skating was part of Cheerio training. In Ms. Sylvester's brain, it would make sense.

"Hey losers," Santana announced her presence, sending up a flurry of ice flakes as she pulled to a short stop in front of them, causing Blaine to almost skate into her. "Hummel, Q wants your help to try out some skating move."

Kurt looked hesitant, probably because he knew that (despite their interesting times spent together) Blaine wasn't really close to anyone in the New Directions.

Don't worry, I'll take care of your boy-toy, Hum-drum. Shoo." Santana forcefully grabbed Blaine's arm and skated him away.

"What move is Quinn trying?" Blaine asked as Santana dragged him across the rink.

"She's not trying anything different. I just wanted to have a little chat with you, and Hummel's sticking to you like cancer. Honestly," the Cheerio rolled her eyes, "could he be any more protective?"

"Protective?" Is that why Kurt hadn't left him alone for one minute with anyone from New Directions besides Finn?

"Well, there's nothing to protect you from unless you screw up. Listen, Hobbit, I'll make this short," Blaine almost snorted at the bad pun, "we all love Kurt. I may act like a total bitch in front of everyone, and he does the same, but we're actually a lot alike, okay? Kurt's the strongest person I know, but he's kinda fragile. You should be smart enough to know what I mean. So, you hurt him, and I'll turn you over to Mercedes. That should be enough of a threat for you." Santana tightened her grip on his arm for a moment, wicked fingernails threatening to break through the surface of his jacket, before she let go and skated away.

"What was that about?" Rachel asked from a few feet away, picking herself up from the ground after another failed attempt at a trick. Finn had joined the crowd watching the Cheerios, and she had obviously given up trying to impress him back into her arms.

"Santana was threatening me with Mercedes' wrath if I were to ever hurt Kurt," Blaine smiled. "The twelve of you are the most protective and loving bunch I've ever met. I mean, the Warblers are close, but it's nothing like this. I'm honestly surprised that it took this long for one of you to threaten me."

"Kurt's a special person," Rachel said with a smile, taking the arm Blaine offered her. "He's a... contradiction in every way. One of the smartest things Finn ever said to me was that Kurt is like a Rubik's cube. You get one side figured out, and then you realize you have another side all wrong."

"Except a Rubik's cube is solvable. Kurt is not." Blaine grinned.

"I think you're doing a pretty good job of figuring him out, Mr. Warbler," Rachel said with a giggle. "Speaking of which, where did he go?" Kurt hadn't returned from 'helping' Quinn.

"I think he got dragged into doing tricks with the Cheerios. Was it part of their training or something?" Maybe Rachel would know.

"It wouldn't surprise me." Rachel laughed. "And remember that the threat Santana gave you goes for all of us. Myself included, even though I've grown quite fond of you. Possibly because you're teased almost as much as I am for being short." Blaine grinned at Rachel's logic.

"Well, I appreciate the compliment, I guess."

"And, although you're the competition, I must say you have a commendable voice. One of the only males I've ever met who could keep up with me vocally." Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Never say that in front of Kurt. Ever, if you value your life. That's like insulting his Gucci jacket. Unacceptable." Rachel giggled again.

"Kurt is another one of those males, and he knows it. Honestly, I was surprised that he didn't get the solo he wanted in the Warblers," Rachel said with a raised eyebrow, obviously demanding an explanation.

"Well, the Warblers is run a little differently." Rachel's look didn't budge. "I'm not giving away trade secrets, Rachel. I'm no traitor." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"If I really wanted information about the Warblers, I would give Kurt my show-business pout, patent pending. It works on everyone." 'Patent pending'? Really?

"Then what are you asking for?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow of his own.

"A reason Kurt didn't deserve that solo, even over you." Rachel was, Blaine realized, fiercely protective of Kurt in her own way. She tried to make sure that everything was fair for him, even if she believed she should win, she wins fair and square.

"I didn't make the decision, Rachel. The council did, and they don't tell anyone their reasons behind their decisions. Not even their best friends," he pointed to himself. "Personally, I think Kurt is far more deserving of a solo then any other Warblers. His voice is beautiful. If it makes you feel any better, he had a lot of solos in our Christmas concert." Blaine couldn't identify the look Rachel was giving him.

"You like him." Would everyone figure this out before Kurt did?

"Rachel, Kurt is my best friend, but I don't think of him in that way," or I try hard not to, he finished mentally.

"Sure you don't." Rachel kissed him on the cheek. "I think Mercedes wants to threaten you now." The gossip group had reached a full circle and were waiting impatiently right near them. Rachel skated away with a smile, heading towards the circle around the Cheerios. No doubt going to talk to Finn, who would reject her or ignore her. While Blaine was watching her skate away (and subtly scanning the crowd for his best friend), Tina, Mercedes, and Lauren surrounded him.

"Alright. I like you, white boy, and so does my boy. So I'm not going to hurt you. But Kurt means everything to me, and to all of us. I swear, with God as my witness, that I will break every bone in your body if you harm a single hair on that boy's head. Clear?" Blaine never considered Mercedes scary, but now he understood why she was Santana's threat.

"And I will be more than happy to help. I've never really liked Hummel, he's kind of a nerd and he wears a lot of flashy clothing, but he can be pretty cool sometimes, and he's honestly pretty nice. As a begrudging member of this club, I am obligated to say I will cut your head off with a butter knife if you upset him." Blaine's hand flew to his throat because ouch!

"I may be quiet, but let me assure you I am capable of some quite creative revenge. I managed to convince our principal that I was a vampire. Let's leave it at that." Blaine gulped. She hadn't bitten anyone, had she? Tina grinned wickedly.

"Oh my gosh, did you hear about Ms. Pillsbury and that dentist?" Mercedes asked Lauren, and Blaine was suddenly free.


"I'm sorry about that," Kurt apologized as they sat on the bleachers. Most of the Glee club was still out on the ice, Puck and the random girl he was making out with were the only other people they knew on the bleachers. "The girls," he explained at Blaine's look. "They can be... protective."

"It's only because they care about you," Blaine said with a smile. "I'm just glad Mercedes didn't maim me right there and then." Kurt scoffed.

"I would have burned every hideous technicolor item in her closet if she had." In Kurt speak, that meant Blaine was worth a lot to him.

"Well thank you. They were pretty nice though, considering the fact that they don't even know me that well. I like Mercedes and Rachel in particular though." Well, he had liked Rachel. He also figured that liking Mercedes would give Kurt more of an excuse to hang out with her.

"We'll have to spend time with them, then." Kurt sounded extremely happy.

"Yeah," Blaine murmured, sipping his boiling hot chocolate. Honestly, it wasn't even that cold in the rink! "What's the deal with Rachel and Finn anyway?" Kurt sighed.

"I already explained this to you," Kurt said with a raised eyebrow. Blaine stuck his tongue out and immediately regretted it. Maybe it was that cold.

"Explain it to me again!" Blaine said with a smile. Kurt sighed (again), but did so anyway.


Eventually, the New Directions had trickled out of the rink, and Blaine, Kurt, and Finn all returned to the Hudmel household. Blaine and Kurt had to wait for 15 minutes as Finn and Rachel argued.

"Let's make a snowman!" Blaine suggested, almost immediately after they walked through the door.

"You never stop, do you?" Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "I can't have five minutes?" he asked, taking off and hanging up his 'jacket' before sitting on the couch.

"Nope!" he exclaimed cheerily. "We have work to do." The look Kurt gave him could have cut steel. "Making a snowman is fun! You said you used to do it," Blaine said with a pout.

"When I was five. That doesn't even count," Kurt argued, but Blaine could see him giving in.

"Please! Please, please, please," Blaine begged, getting down on his knees in front of Kurt.

"You are a horrible, miserable beggar, and I am not giving into you. Also, get up of your knees, Finn will undoubtedly get the wrong idea and beat you to a pulp." Anyone else who had been listening to the conversation would have thought Kurt wouldn't mind that happening, but Blaine knew that Kurt was just being remarkably dry.

"Please!" Blaine begged one more time, pouting some more.

"Fine. As long as none of my vintage, thousand dollar scarves are involved in this plot of yours, we can make a snowman." Kurt sounded annoyed, but a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"You're the bestest best friend ever!" Blaine announced, clinging to Kurt's legs like a small child.

"You're putting shame on Dalton with your lack of decorum," Kurt commented and Blaine ignored him.


"I mentioned to you that I hate cold, correct? Which eventually extends to a hatred of snow, and then winter. Naturally, being the wonderful friend that you are, you decide to combine three of my worst hatreds in one activity. Honestly, I thought you couldn't get worse than the ice skating and the inevitable injuries," Kurt complained as they trudged out behind the Hudmel house. Blaine rolled his eyes at his best friends melodramatic spiel. Finn would have a few bruises in the morning, but that hardly counted as injuries.

"You get hot cocoa after we're done," Blaine sing-songed and the ranting immediately stopped.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" One of Kurt's gloved hands reached out to grab Blaine's, pulling him forward as Kurt ran through the mid-calf-deep snow. He could deny it all he wanted, but this was obviously one of Kurt's favorite Christmas time activities.

"Slow down, crazy. Slow down," Blaine quoted, stumbling to catch up with his over-excited friend.

"Don't you quote Sassy Gay Friend at me!" Kurt managed to sound irritated, sassy, and out of breath all at once. One of those unique talents that came with being Kurt Hummel, Blaine supposed.

"I wouldn't if it wasn't necessary," Blaine panted out. Kurt, it turned out, was designed for speed in all temperatures. Blaine was not, and was quickly running out of breath.

"Here? Is here good?" They were far enough from the house to qualify (in Blaine's words) as 'in a winter wonderland,' but they were also far enough from the trees that no kamikaze snow would kill their snowman.

"Perfect," Blaine tore his hand away to rest it on one of his knees. Jesus, Kurt could run.

"Come on! Come on, come on!" Kurt began rolling snow immediately, and wasn't Blaine supposed to be the bouncy child in this relationship?

"One sec," Blaine said. To be quite honest, this spot was a lot better for his original idea than for snowman building. They were only about ten feet from the trees.

Quickly walking that distance without Kurt noticing, the counter tenor too wrapped up in the bottom of the snowman, Blaine scooped up some snow, thankful that Kurt had gloves instead of mittens, and tossed it at the taller boy. The tenor ducked behind a tree immediately, hearing a sharp gasp as Kurt registered what had happened.

"Blaine Anderson! Did you just throw a snowball at me?" Blaine tried not to breath too loud as he heard Kurt moving. What Blaine hadn't planned for was the area being deserted enough that only his footsteps showed up, and this didn't occur to him until there was snow-quickly-changing-to-ice running down his face. Kurt was just a few feet away from him, one side of his face and a portion of his hair dripping wet.

"You're supposed to hide, you know?" Blaine asked, leaning down to scoop up another snowball, keeping a careful eye on his friend.

"Oh, I know. However, I believe that you have enough of an idea of self-preservation to never get now in my hair again," Kurt said, his voice quietly dangerous. Blaine's next snowball hit him straight in the center of his chest (contrary to Kurt's belief, the tenor wasn't dumb enough to throw one directly in his face. He wanted to live until Christmas, after all). "You. Are. Dead," Kurt said slowly, backing away and slipping behind a tree as Blaine did the same. It was so on.

After about 30 minutes of snowballs flying everywhere, the trees around them were covered in clinging crystals, several large piles of snow had been knocked over by Blaine's inability to judge distance and his horrible peripheral vision, and both boys were drenched from head to toe with various stages of melting snow.

"At least you're wearing a better jacket," Blaine pointed out. Blaine had waved the white flag of defeat (or just given up, but that was a lot less dramatic of a saying), after Kurt had somehow managed to drop a snowball directly on the top of his head, soaking every inch of what was before his perfectly-gelled hair. "Is it still Gucci?"

"You know me so well," Kurt sighed, dropping to the ground, seemingly uncaring of the snow.

"We should make snow angels now!" Blaine decreed, dropping onto the snow beside him.

"You're never discouraged, are you?" When Blaine didn't answer, Kurt sighed. "Since my jacket, as well as the shirt and probably undershirt beneath it, is completely soaked, I suppose snow can do me no more harm."

"That's like saying 'what could go wrong?'" Blaine pointed out with a grin. Kurt didn't so much as react.

"How do you make a snow angel?" Kurt asked. Blaine turned his head (ignoring the fact that there was now dirty snow in all of his orifices) to gape at him. "What? I've never felt the desire to lay in the snow, even as a child."

"You, my friend, are deprived. It's a snow angel." Kurt's reaction was blank look. "You just do this." Blaine moved his arms and his legs as though trying to fly/swim, creating the perfect snow angel.

"You look ridiculous," Kurt commented, but copied him all the same.

"Now, the tricky part is getting off the ground without messing up the angel." Blaine had never been good at this. Carefully placing his hands below his snow wings, he pushed himself up, almost toppling back into his angel, leaving only the marks of his shoes on the work of art. "Aha!" he cried triumphantly, glancing over to see... Kurt walking towards where they had begun a snowman, his angel completely in tact.

"How did you do that?" Blaine asked, steamed. Kurt was clearly some sort of ninja, but Blaine would get revenge on him for this. No beginner should be able to make a perfect snow angel like that, even if the beginner seemed a little bit like an angel himself.

"Never underestimate a Cheerio," was Kurt's only response. "Do you want to build this thing or not?"

"Aye, aye, cap'n," Blaine said cheekily, carefully not stepping in Kurt's angel (he had some sense of self-preservation) as he ran over towards his best friend.


"This is the only reason our adventures in the snow are worth it," Kurt declared, carefully picking a marshmallow off the top of his hot cocoa with his tongue. Blaine, he'd decided, made the most amazing hot cocoa on the entire planet, regardless of how annoyed he was with his friend that he'd need hours to dry out his Gucci Shearling-Trimmed Coat.

"You had fun, and you know it," Blaine accused, dropping onto the couch next to him and making his hot cocoa dance precariously.

"Watch it!" Kurt didn't want to waste a single drop of this amazing liquid, and, if Blaine's smirk was anything to go by, it showed on his face.

"Relax. I has magic powers," Blaine grinned, knowing how much LOLCatz annoyed his friend. Sure enough, the glare Kurt gave him could cower a Hungarian Horntail.

"I hate you," Kurt declared, taking a sip of his hot cocoa and almost groaning at the taste.

"Would you hate me as much if," Blaine leaned over to grab something under the couch, almost sending his hot cocoa mug to the ground below and himself to his death for ruining a 300 dollar rug, "I happened to have a copy of White Christmas?" Blaine pulled out a DVD of the original movie and Kurt practically melted.

"How...?" Kurt couldn't form the question, but Blaine just smiled, almost... shyly? a vast contrast to his usual cheeky grins.

"It's one of my favorite Christmas movies. When you mentioned it as part of your family traditions, I almost exploded with happiness that I decided to pack it. I thought we could watch it, as... a nod to past Christmases." Kurt's heart went into a supernova at that moment. He had fallen, unconditionally and irrevocably (Kurt ignored the comparison that could, in theory, be made to Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen. They were simply the best adjectives he could think of at the moment, considering his brain was so melted he was surprised it wasn't leaking out of his ears), in love with his best friend.

"Of course." Kurt and Blaine both ignored how breathless Kurt's voice sounded. Blaine stood up, wisely placing his mug on the coffee table, to put the DVD in. Kurt grabbed a blanket from the cupboard, placing his mug far enough away from Blaine's that they wouldn't be able to mix them up, and sat back down. It wasn't until Blaine was sitting next to him and tugging the blanket over both of their laps (the two were sitting comfortably close, shoulders touching but thighs not) that Kurt realized it was an old blanket his mom had made, causing a smile to light up on his face.

"What?" Blaine asked, nudging his friend's shoulder.

"My mom made this blanket," Kurt said with a smile, running a hand over the familiar fabric.

"Oh, then we probably shouldn't-" Blaine went to move the blanket, probably in fear of the hot cocoa, and Kurt stopped him.

"This blanket has had more hot cocoa spilled on it then you would think possibly," Kurt appeased his friend, showing him the corner that he had spilled cocoa on on this very couch, so many years ago.

"Alright," Blaine said with a shrug, and the two cuddled in to watch the movie.

Somehow, over the course of the movie, Kurt's head had ended up on Blaine's shoulder, one of Blaine's arms wound around Kurt, so Blaine felt the single tear Kurt shed drop onto the skin bared by his t-shirt. "Kurt?" he asked hesitantly.

"I love this movie," Kurt whispered back as though afraid to break the still silence. Blaine thought for a moment that it was incredibly nice to be devoid of Finn for the moment. He liked Kurt's step-brother, but he was such a loud creature!

"Me too," he whispered back.

"May your days be merry and bright-" Kurt said along with the end of the movie, a beautiful smile crossing his face.

"-and may all your Christmases be white," Blaine finished, smiling just as broadly.

They enjoyed a moment of quiet as the credits began to roll before... "Hey, dudes!" After the quiet of the last hour, Finn's loud greeting sounded like a shout, and Kurt and Blaine snapped away from each other like too-similar magnets.

"Hey, Finn," Kurt called back at a more subdued volume, and just like that the spell was broken.


Finn was chattering away to a very bored and hurt looking Kurt when Blaine got out of the bathroom. As soon as they'd headed downstairs, Finn had followed like an eager puppy, talking about how much fun the club'd had at Mr. Schuester's. Kurt sighed but smiled, and allowed himself to be dragged onto Finn's bed to hear the whole story. Blaine allowed Kurt a moment of victory at the fact Finn didn't freak out having the counter tenor on his bed, before deciding that Finn's verboseness could be a weapon in their war for the blow-up bed.

It wasn't that he wanted Kurt to feel emasculated, but he didn't want to be a burden to the taller boy. Plus, Kurt deserved to be treated like a prince at the very least in his own home, and Blaine could help with that. Blaine climbed quickly into the blow-up bed, and fell asleep to the smooth tone of Finn's endless flow of words.


A/N: YAY! NEW CHAPTER! YAY! CHRISTMAS! Boo... almost nobody's reading Meet Blaine. This makes me very sad. Ignoring my sadliness, a new chapter of Meet Blaine should be up tonight, so, for anyone who was really annoyed with me for not posting sooner, read this, then go read all of that story, then don't be mad at me anymore! Updates might be slow, I have a serious case of going-back-to-school-itis.

No songs... not one song? I'm surprised at myself.

For anyone who's interested in Kurt's coats, the first one is the Iconic Gucci KWAY Windbreaker, and the second one is the Gucci Shearling-Trimmed Coat. Both can be found at Neiman Marcus . com in the Gucci section.

Reviews are Love.