A/N: Hey guys! 100 REVIEWS! WHOOOP! Thanks you all so much :) When I saw the number there was flailing and shrieking involved. Also, their Christmas presents are really lame and cheesy, I'm aware, but they're the kind of inexpensive and cute Christmas presents you get a friend/crush in high school. Warnings: bad words. Cheesiness. I always forget a disclaimer, so I'm adding it here: I don't own Glee, and I never will. Read On.

Blaine woke up surrounded by the familiar smell of Kurt: sandalwood, designer perfume, and something distinctly original that was his natural smell. Trying to ignore how everything about the bed smelled like the counter tenor, Blaine rolled out... and thudded painfully to the floor. This was getting ridiculous. His overly dramatic and completely loveable best friend had moved him from the air mattress to the bed in his sleep (well, most likely he had asked Finn to) and was now sleeping peacefully on the blow-up bed.

Most accurately, he had been sleeping peacefully. The moment Blaine hit the ground, with a loud thump, he might add, Kurt's head had jerked up and his eyes snapped open. "What tim izt?" As far as cuteness went, Sleepy Finn had nothing on Sleepy Kurt.

"Why am I in your bed?" It was one of those awkwardly-worded questions that made most people blush and stutter frantically, but Kurt would know what he meant.

"Because you're the guest, and we're both guys. By the way, Merry Christmas, cranky." Blaine's eyes lit up at the reminder, ignoring the glare he was getting from his very lethargic best friend.

Ignoring the pain in his (undoubtedly bruised) back, Blaine hopped off the floor like a kangaroo and raced over to his bag, muttering 'where is it?' under his breath.

"Blaine, you didn't have to..." Kurt's protest trailed off as Blaine pulled out a tissue-box-sized blue box topped with a simple white ribbon.

"Aha!" Blaine cried out in triumph. Hurrying over to the air mattress (war over sleeping places forgotten) before the little box could pull another Houdini, he plopped both himself and the box on the bed. "Open up!"

"Blaine, you really didn't have to..." but it was useless to protest and Kurt knew that. "Thank you," he said with a genuine smile. "Yours is under the tree." Kurt untied the ribbon and opened the box (struggling with the tape and glaring at his best friend's chuckle. Blaine so did that on purpose) to reveal two more boxes.

"Sorry, couldn't resist." Blaine chuckled, earning yet another glare from the overtired and feisty counter tenor.

"You are a horrible person," Kurt said, and regretted it immediately when he opened the first box. "My mom's perfume..." he murmured, turning the light gold glass bottle over in his hands.

"You mentioned how her dresser used to smell like it and it was fading. So I figured you might like another bottle," Blaine said softly.

"I... thank you," Kurt whispered, blinking away spare tears. Getting no response from his best friend, Kurt pulled the bow off of the second box. Inside was a delicately-woven bracelet of sea-blue and dark green with the word 'Courage' lazily stitched in white.

"I know friendship bracelets are very third grade, and you can't wear it at Dalton, but I just..." Blaine stopped talking because he really couldn't explain to Kurt why he wanted to counter tenor to always have a part of him near, at least not without putting some secrets out in the open.

"No," Kurt waved off Blaine's explanation, "it's perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Blaine responded this time, leaning forward to hug his best friend at the same time Kurt went to stand, causing Blaine to grab at Kurt's legs and the taller boy to fall flat on his butt, almost kicking Blaine in the face.

"Well, that worked out well," Kurt said sarcastically, carefully getting to his feet on the floor this time.

"Whoops!" Blaine exclaimed with a childish grin, making Kurt laugh loudly then glance over to check that they hadn't woken Finn.

"He really can sleep through an avalanche, can't he?" Kurt rolled his eyes at his step-brother.

"He just slept though a mini one," Blaine pointed out with a laugh.

"I'll be right back," Kurt promised. On his way to the door, the counter tenor smacked Finn upside the head to see if he woke. Garnering no reaction, Kurt huffed dramatically and walked up the stairs.

Chuckling at the antics of his best friend, Blaine got up from his seat on the air mattress (he refused to call it Kurt's bed) to check his phone. 123 texts and 24 missed calls from Charlie alone.

To: Charlie
'Merry Christmas!'

From: Charlie
'ur ded 2 me.'

To: Charlie
'i mised u 2. whatre u up 2?'

From: Charlie
'Mking a Xmas bonfire.'

To: Charlie
'Fun.'

From: Charlie
'Yep. Wes + David juned me, so w r burnin ur hair gel, bttle by bttle.'

To: Charlie
'CHARLIE!'

From: Charlie
'thats what u get 4 ignring me. be grtful its not ur clthes.'

To: Charlie
'ive ben busy!'

From: Charlie
'Gttin it on with K?'

To: Charlie
'Charlie...'

From: Charlie
'if u 2 r stll friends, then u hve no exuse'

"Earth to Blaine, come in Blaine." Blaine jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the counter tenor's voice. Kurt was sitting on his bed, smiling softly at the tenor, who had been so wrapped up in his phone that he hadn't noticed his return.

"Sorry, I wanted to say 'Merry Christmas' to a very irate Charlie." Hopefully, Charlie hadn't actually wrecked horrible vengeance on his bathroom, but Blaine wouldn't be at all surprised if he had.

"I don't think I've ever seen Charlie mad," Kurt said, with a look of horror on his face.

"And you never want to. That boy is capable of some horrible revenge. I'll tell you about it... later," Blaine commented, noting the box in Kurt's hand.

"Oh yeah," Kurt smiled softly. "Merry Christmas." Blaine took the immaculately-wrapped green present from Kurt and hastened to rip all of his careful wrapping off, hurriedly flipping open the white box underneath.

"You will never stop attempting to improve my fashion sense, will you?" Blaine said with a cheeky grin, picking the mostly-red scarf out of the box. The present was very much what he had expected of Kurt (or, rather, what he would have expected if he'd thought about it), stylish but not over the line into the ridiculous clothes only Kurt would wear in public (not that they weren't nice. Kurt always looked nice).

"Never. I will force you into style until the day you rid your poor bathroom and pillow of every bottle of hair gel you own," Kurt swore rather dramatically, and Blaine couldn't help but think of how alike he and Charlie were.

"I'm pretty sure Charlie has already taken care of that for you. Is hair gel flammable?" Kurt's expression in that moment was so priceless that if Blaine had a camera on him, he would treasure it forever.

"Hair gel is extremely flammable. Google it." Guys had gone so far as to set their own hair, attached to their head, on fire to prove it. Which, of course, was extremely dumb, yet slightly entertaining.

"Then Charlie's probably in the process of burning down his neighborhood as we speak." It probably, sadly, wouldn't be the first time Charlie had done something that dangerous.

"Then Charlie is officially my new favorite person," Kurt said with a slight grin. His smile grew brighter as Blaine dramatically groaned and clutched at his chest. "For the record, the scarf is the Buckeyes' colors. Breakfast?" he asked, pretending to ignore Blaine's reaction.

In typical boy form, Blaine forgot all of his mock-angst and jumped to his feet. "Absolutely!" It was then that Kurt noticed Blaine's sleep shirt and couldn't help but giggle. "What?"

"Nothing," Kurt tried to lie but the giggles gave him away. "Your shirt."

"You are a horrible, horrible person. This is an amazing shirt, and I wear it with pride!" Blaine flounced dramatically up the stairs, proudly showing off the back of his t-shirt as well. The white t-shirt had the word 'MUGGLE' in all caps with other words around it, and said on the back, 'I need Harry Potter like a Grindylow needs water.'

"You're such a dork!" Kurt yelled up the stairs before following his best friend to the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, boys!" Burt called happily as he came down the stairs. Kurt and Blaine had given up on trying to wake Finn quite a while ago, and Carole had shooed them both away from the living room for 'last minute Christmas reasons.'

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Kurt said at the same time Blaine said, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Hummel."

"Finn still snoring?" At Kurt's nod, Burt snorted. "That boy will sleep through his entire life I swear. Is Rachel coming over, or are those two off again?" It was sad, Blaine thought, when not even your parents could keep track of your relationship status.

"They're off again, shockingly. Besides, she's Jewish, remember?" Kurt didn't sound annoyed with his dad's lack of ability to remember. Then again, the only two girlfriends Finn had had were extremely Christian or extremely Jewish. Blaine could see how the two could get confused.

"Where's Carole?" Burt finally noticed his wife's absence.

"Living room. 'Last minute Christmas reasons.' Hot cocoa?" Kurt asked with a smile. "And yes, this is technically off your diet, but I'm willing to turn a blind eye for Christmas morning."

"Well, you're in a good mood." In contrast to what should be a happy statement, Burt's voice dropped into what was practically a growl and he looked suspiciously at his son, who didn't seem to notice.

"I am. Blaine and I just exchanged Christmas presents." Now Burt was glaring at Blaine, and Kurt finally caught on. "Not that kind of Christmas present. Honestly." Blaine blushed a little and noticed that Kurt was flushed as well when he grabbed his mug and headed for the living room.

"What kind of Christmas presents?" A sleepy voice mumbled from the top of the stairs. Finn could occasionally have perfect timing. "There are kinds of different presents?"

"My father assumed I was making a poor euphemism that would eternally scar all children's minds," Kurt replied with a roll of his eyes, obviously maintaining his good mood.

"Oh. I love those kind of Christmas presents," Finn muttered, still sleepy. Ignoring the looks of horror and disgust from two occupants of the room, and a look of surprise from the other, he headed for the fridge.

"Pancakes?" Kurt asked, pointing to the plate that Finn had totally missed.

"Love Christmas." Finn was sleepily stumbling over to the pancakes when Carole reentered the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at her son's inability to function properly without over fourteen hours of sleep.

"All right boys! Presents for all are in the living room!" Considering how zombie-like his movements had been before, Blaine was shocked by Finn's sudden speed towards the living room.

"Finn! Finn! You are not allowed to rip all of your presents open at once!" Carole reprimanded her son, following him into the living room. Kurt, Blaine, and Burt followed with almost-identical looks of amusement.

Surely enough, Finn already had a majority of the floor covered in wrapping paper and was attempting to pull on a Ohio State Buckeyes Shirt over his pajamas. Once he succeeded, he grabbed another present, and started trying to tear it apart. This time, Carole grabbed it out of his hands before he could begin.

"Finnegan Christopher Hudson, that is not your present." Kurt laughed at his step-brother's antics as he settled on the couch and motioned for Blaine to sit next to him. "This one's for you, sweetie." Carole held the present towards the couch. The present remained where in Carole's hand for over a minute before Blaine looked at Kurt, who glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"She's not talking to me, smarty." Blaine blinked, trying to process Kurt's words as his best friend continued to stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Carole, you really didn't have to-" Carole interrupted him before he could even get the words out.

"Oh, hush. It's Christmastime! You really thought there was nothing underneath this tree for you?" Blaine nodded and Carole laughed. "Nonsense." Turning away from Blaine, she looked over the now-messier floor (as Finn had continued his destruction while she was distracted). "Now, where's your present from Kurt?"

"I already gave it to him. I came up and stole it earlier this morning while you were having your coffee. Somebody decided to wake me up extremely early on a Saturday, which was entirely unnecessary." Kurt glared at Blaine.

"I woke you up by falling out of the bed you moved me to in my sleep." Blaine glared at Kurt.

"You boys are so silly." Carole shoved the present into Blaine's hands before going back to the tree to grab more presents. Blaine carefully opened the present, trying not to draw the attention of Burt or the madman currently destroying presents left and right. "Finn! That's for Kurt!"

"Good, I don't even know what Neiman Marcus is. Is that a person?" At Finn's words, Kurt practically dove off of the couch, tackling his brother to the ground for the card in his hand, ignoring Finn's stunned expression and his father's laughter.

"Give me that!" Kurt snatched the gift certificate out of Finn's unresisting hands. "Carole! You shouldn't have! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank y-"

"No problem sweetheart. I figured they have most if not all of the designers you like, and it's not quite as expensive as buying direct." Burt snorted, and Blaine resisted the urge to follow the trend. 'Not quite as expensive' didn't mean reasonably-priced.

"Thank you Carole," Blaine said quietly, loud enough to be heard by Carole. Unfortunately, the rest of the room (with the exception of Finn) turned towards him as well.

"There is a troubling obsession with the Buckeyes in this house," Kurt commented with a roll of his eyes, still clutching the Neiman Marcus gift certificate protectively to his chest. "Honestly, it's getting to be a little bit ridiculous."

"Says the one who bought me a scarf that coordinates with the Buckeyes colors," Blaine pointed out with a grin, and Kurt blushed slightly. "Oh, and you're one to talk about having an obsession, Mr. Fashion!" Blaine snatched at the gift card in Kurt's hand and Kurt tripped over a stray present trying to backpedal, landing with an undignified 'oof!' "Smooth."

"Do. Not. Touch. My. Neiman. Marcus. Gift. Card," Kurt said pointedly, picking himself up off the ground in an unusually graceful manner.

"My apologies, good sir," Blaine joked, making Kurt crack up with laughter.

"You goof." Joining in with his slightly insane and very immature brother in the present hunt on the ground, Burt looked over towards Kurt's father to see that Burt was watching him. Just the tiniest of nods was Burt's gesture to him before he looked back at his sons with a mixture of amusement and mock-shame.

"This is perfect for Rachel, Finn." Kurt was holding up a tacky Christmas box with a gold star necklace inside of it. "To be quite honest, as creepy as her obsession with and constant possession of gold stars is, they are truly the perfect sum of her personality."

"Kurt, give me that back." Finn had ditched the tearing apart of presents to try and snatch the box from his much-more-agile brother's hands.

"She'll love it, if and when you ever decide to give it to her." Having successfully secured the last word, Kurt handed Finn the box with a smile. "Now, I believe this is mine."

"What do you mean my cousins are coming? How was I not warned of this?" Kurt looked absolutely furious, glaring at his guilty-looking father with intense venom.

"Well, that was, uh, kind of the other thing I needed to talk to you about, kiddo. Y'know, after the winter concert thing?" Burt nervously readjusted his baseball cap multiple times under his son's stare.

"My cousins hate me, with a passion, and the feeling is entirely mutual." Kurt rolled his eyes at the mention of his cousins before returning to the occupation of glaring at his father. Blaine just looked between the two with an equal measure of confusion and worry, echoing the look in Carole's eyes. Finn was simply doing his best to eat the entire coffee cake Kurt had made.

"Kurt, y'never know. Your cousins might have grown up in the last few months." Kurt's glare remained steely, adequately displaying his doubt of such a fact. "Kiddo, it's important that the family meets Carole, y'know that. Especially since next-to-none of them were at the wedding." Burt tried to wheedle his son's... not permission, Blaine supposed, but his forgiveness.

"None of them were at the wedding because you insisted in planning it in a matter of weeks, and I planned it, remembering to pointedly take them off of the guest list whenever you added them." Kurt sounded completely unsympathetic.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, your cousins are coming for family dinner and that's final!" Burt didn't yell at his son (Blaine had a feeling Burt would never yell at his son), but his tone was firm enough to get the point across and Kurt offered no more objections.

"I should get started on dinner than. How many are we having Burt?" Carole clearly hadn't seen it as her place to pacify either Burt or Kurt during the father-son fight, but now broke the awkward silence.

"Uncle Max, Aunt Mildred, Aunt Abbie, Charlotte, Chris, Matt, Luna, and Issy, plus us five. So, thirteen." Carole offered her husband a sunny smile before disappearing into the kitchen. "Kurt, I would tell you to dress nicely, but I'd be wasting by breath. Finn, dress nicely." With that, Burt disappeared into the living room, obviously hoping to find a Christmas game or The Deadliest Catch.

"I'm... not even gonna try to make up an excuse. I'm just leaving you two alone." Finn exited the kitchen, and Kurt slapped his hand against his forehead.

"Honestly, I do not know what to do with that boy sometimes." Kurt rolled his eyes. "At least Aunt Abbie is coming. Then I'll be the second-most-hated person at the dinner table, with you in third. Guess the pattern," Kurt commented sardonically, sitting in the chair across from Blaine's.

"Homophobic?" Blaine asked, half in sympathy, half in worry.

"And that's an understatement. It's going to be a long evening." Kurt sighed, shaking his head. "I apologize for this. I would have hidden you at Mercedes' for the day if I had known they were coming. Scratch that, I would have hidden us away at Mercedes' for the day... or the week, if I had known they were coming.

"Don't worry about it. You've made it through Christmas dinners before, I assume. Everything will be fine." Kurt snorted at Blaine's reassurances.

"Yeah, until they meet you. Then starts World War III."

"Welcome to our humble abode. It's lovely to see you again, Abbie." Blaine had never heard Mr. Hummel sound so formal. The woman walking through the door had flaming red curls framing a face as porcelain as Kurt's, combined with the same piercingly blue eyes. Her outfit would have made Kurt proud too, had he not still been downstairs (supposedly 'perfecting his outfit,' realistically avoiding his cousins for as long as possible).

His outfit was just as impressive, if completely out of his normal style. Seeing the nerves behind the bravado and annoyance mask, Blaine had allowed Kurt to dress him. While it was simpler than Kurt's normal taste, the jeans and... well, everything else in the outfit, was much tighter than the Dalton boy was used to. His face and hands were also well moisturized, as Kurt had insisted, but he had escaped the normal frights of a Kurt Hummel Makeover by pleading at his best friend's feet for mercy and making the countertenor giggle uncontrollably.

"Formal as always, Burt. Now, where's my favorite nephew, and who is this?" Her soft, lilting voice had a slight New York accent to it.

"Blaine Anderson, it's lovely to meet you, I've heard highly of you," Blaine's Dalton-bred manners automatically took over his mouth. The red-haired woman, obviously Kurt's Aunt Abbie, held out a hand and Blaine kissed it quickly.

"Well, you must have been talking to Kurt, because I'm sure Burt secretly loathes me," Abbie offered him a warm smile and twinkling eyes that reminded him of a mischievous Kurt.

"Yes, because I'm the one that hates you," Burt added from behind them. "Kurt Hummel, get your butt out of that basement, your aunt's here!"

"Which one?" Kurt's disembodied voice floated up the stairs, and Abbie grinned.

"Aunt Abbie," Burt's expression soured as he heard his son squeak, and the basement door frame started shaking as Kurt pounded up the stairs.

"Aunt Abbie!" Kurt practically tackled Abbie in a hug, and the red-haired woman's face lit up in a genuine smile as she hugged the overexcited boy back. "I haven't seen you in months!"

"What an unfortunate way to be reunited," Abbie said, not quite as excited as Kurt and still in that smooth tone with which she had addressed Burt, but laughing nonetheless. Kurt laughed along with her, still holding her to him like little kids cling to their parents' legs, before releasing her and turning to Blaine.

"Oh, Aunt Abbie, this is my friend Blaine. He goes to my new school," Kurt and his aunt made what most people would call 'significant eye contact,' clearly having to do with Kurt's 'new school,' as he put it.

"We've met," Abbie said, eying Blaine with quite a bit more warmth than she had originally. He clearly needed to learn to speak the language of Kurt's eyes (not that he'd mind spending quite a bit of time staring at them).

The doorbell rang and Kurt and his aunt groaned. "Kill me now," Kurt declared dramatically, flopping down on the couch next to Blaine and leaning... a lot closer than he normally would. Huh. Aunt Abbie simply disappeared.

"Hey, Uncle Burty!" The girl that walked in was gorgeous, probably about Lila's age, all straight, long blonde hair, great legs, and another pair of Kurt's eyes. Apparently, they ran in the family. Burt seemed much happier to see this part of the family and hugged the blonde back.

"Hello, Charlotte. Hello, Chris," he directed to dark-haired, older boy with almost-black eyes who walked right past the hugging uncle and niece without a word. "Matt, it's lovely to see you," he added to a slightly-younger boy (probably around their age) with Kurt's eyes, who was clearly trying to imitate his older brother and didn't answer Burt but for a slight nod.

"Kurt," the older boy, Chris, nodded to his younger cousin respectfully, and Kurt nodded back, not moving an inch away from Blaine.

"Is there any reason you're trying to encourage their homophobic opinions?" Blaine was ninety percent sure he had figured Kurt out. Of course, he wouldn't have concrete proof until Kurt introduced him.

"I'm trying to prevent them from being invited back," Kurt stated easily. "If you don't mind."

"This is a bad idea," Blaine whispered back, but tried his hardest not to jump as Kurt placed a hand on his knee. This was a really bad idea.

"Kurtsie!" A young girl (three or four, Blaine would guess) jumped onto Kurt's lap, knowing his hand from Blaine's knee as she attacked him. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Luna-bear." Kurt hugged the young girl to him as a snotty-looking eleven-year-old girl, dressed to the nines in Tina's clothing and obviously trying to look cool, walked into the room, obviously-died black hair streaked with pink and green.

"Fag," was her way of greeting Kurt. "Luna, come here." The innocent little girl climbed off Kurt's lap and ran to her older sister (he assumed), making the countertenor frown at the older girl.

"Issy, what does that word mean? Fag?" The chilling slur sounded so wrong from the child's mouth.

"Luna, hun, never say that word, it's not nice." Kurt's voice was soft, and he was obviously affected by the slur from Luna's mouth as well. Blaine reached down to take his friend's hand, reveling in the disgusted look that garnered from Issy.

"Hello, Kurt, and... who is this?" The voice was very strained, and the tone was familiar. It was the same tone his mother used whenever he talked about boys, any boys, no matter how straight. The tone that was trying to fake civility. The voice came from a man who had entered the room unnoticed by the arguing children.

"This is my boyfriend, Blaine. Blaine, meet my Uncle Max and Aunt Mildred." The children clearly hadn't gotten their impeccable good looks from their mother. Their father, Max, was a strong, wide man, taller than ever Finn, with a tough jaw covered in stubble and a military looking face. Their mother was obviously older (suggesting that Luna, at the very least, was not biologically hers), lined face harsh and the smell of alcohol practically radiated from her skin.

"Nice to meet you," Max said in that same, strained tone, while Mildred offered nothing at all except a whispered slur under her breath.

"Alright, family, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Carole, and my new step-son, Finn." Burt broke the awkward tension between Kurt and... everyone, but Finn more than made up for it by the nerves on his face. "Carole, Finn, this is Uncle Max and Aunt Mildred, Charlotte, Chris, Issy, Luna, Matt, and Aunt Abbie."

Finn and Carole earned a respectful nod from Matt, an enthusiastic greeting from Issy and Charlotte (especially directed towards Finn), a once-over from Issy, who seemed to approve, and a handshake and small talk from the two adults. Chris had no reaction the two entering the room.

"Shall we sit down for dinner then?" Carole asked with the always-polite smile she used to diffuse tension.

"Carole's a wonderful cook," Kurt and Burt chorused, before looking at each other with identical mixes of amusement and embarrassment.

"Let's eat!" Uncle Max said with a grin, and it didn't sound nearly as forced as it had when he was talking to Blaine and Kurt.

"This is wonderful, Carole." Charlotte seemed like a generally happy, sunny person. Blaine had immediately liked her once she had hugged Kurt and then hugged him as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. Which, of course, there was, but they didn't know that.

Carole smiled at the sunny girl, leaning slightly over the table to meet her eyes past Kurt and Blaine. With Burt and Max at the heads of the table, Matt, Chris, Issy, and Aunt Mildred had taken over one side of the table, and Charlotte, Kurt, Blaine, Carole, Finn, and Aunt Abbie had taken over the other. Luna was originally sitting next to her mother, but was now happily resting on Charlotte's lap.

"Thank you, Charlotte." Finn, Burt, Max, and Matt had started up a football conversation, leaving Issy and her mother to glare unendingly at a seemingly unfazed Kurt, who was actually clutching Blaine's hand rather tightly under the table. Kurt, Blaine, Carole, and Charlotte had been having small talk until the food was served, and now the table had lapsed into awkward silence.

"So, Finn, do you play sports?" Aunt Mildred asked, mock-politely, still glaring at the countertenor who's knuckles were rapidly turning whiter.

"Uh, football, basketball, and baseball," Finn answered, awkwardly glancing at Kurt across the table. Blaine had to admire his poker face.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The question itself was innocent, coming from an angel-faced Charlotte, but the rest of Kurt's family practically leaned forward in anticipation like something out of a sitcom.

"Not at the moment. I just broke up with this girl I'd been dating for a while." Finn's answer seemed to appease the family, especially Charlotte, who was probably interested in him.

"Interesting," was Aunt Mildred's reaction. "How long have you two been dating?" the woman quickly changed subjects.

"A little over a month," Kurt lied smoothly.

"So I see you still haven't returned to the church." Blaine had to bite back a whimper of pain as Kurt squeezed his hand almost to the breaking point... literally.

"In case you forgot, Mrs. Amwhyne, I was asked to leave." Blaine didn't hold back his surprise, looking at Kurt for the first time, who still had on his perfect poker face.

"If you repented your sins, you would be allowed to return." Burt's face tightened at this point, but he didn't say anything. Carole looked concerned, Issy looked satisfied, and Charlotte and Finn both looked annoyed.

"Mom, knock it off." The quiet order came from Chris, who had been silent up to this point. Clearly, Chris was master of the house, because Mildred silenced.

"So, Kurt, how's your Glee club?" Matt asked, probably eager to pick up where his brother had left off.

"Fine. I transferred schools, unfortunately, but my new Glee club is just as... interesting as my old one, I suppose, and they are both going to Regionals this March." The hatred in this family seemed to be in the adults, and the Issy, who was clearly trying to break the 'middle child rut' and seem cool.

"Cool! I can sing," Matt exclaimed eagerly, and Chris gave him a sideways smile. Huh. Perhaps there was a little more friendship there than hero worship.

"If I ever hear you sing a show tune, I am disowning you," Mildred said coldly, and the rest of the table looked at her in shock.

"Uh, I sing show tunes all the time," Finn tried to add helpfully.

"Faggot," Issy interjected coldly, earning a proud smile from her mother.

"What's up your ass?" Chris exclaimed, standing up and slamming his hand on the table. "Iz, stop trying to be cool, you're just acting like a bitch. Mom, what the fuck is wrong with you? At least Dad tries to be nice. Fuck off Kurt, he's a pretty cool dude." The older boy stormed away from the table, quickly followed by his little brother. Mildred did nothing but stare after her sons in shock, and Abbie smirked.

"He taught you," Abbie added, running her hand through one of her ginger locks in a move too reminiscent of Santana for comfort. "Maybe you'll finally learn. Burt, hun, I have places to be, and hot chicks to party with," Abbie smirked at Mildred as she said this. "Goodbye Charlotte, Carole, Finn, sweetheart," she hugged Kurt from behind, her hair falling around his face as she kissed him on the forehead, "Blaine... good luck. Tell Chris I'm glad he taught his mum a lesson, but try not to use that kind of language around Luna-bear." Abbie left, probably just for dramatic effect.

"I'm going to go find Matt and Chris," Burt offered, quickly departing, and leaving his half-eaten dinner to get cold.

"Told you this wasn't going to go well," Charlotte said to her father, rolling her eyes. "This never goes well. I don't even see why we bring her out in public," she pointed to her mother in disgust. Mildred was still shell-shocked, mouth gaping open to reveal yellowed teeth.

"Charlotte, be respectful to your mother." Max seemed disappointed too, though he would never show it. "Carole, Finn, Blaine, Kurt, I am terribly sorry. I believe we have overstayed our welcome."

"You think?" Charlotte said with another roll of her eyes, clearly speaking Kurt's mind. "Can we go gather my brothers now?"

"Issy, Luna, Mildred, we're leaving. Issy, bring your mother back to her senses. Charlotte, grab Luna. I'll go find my sons." Max left the room as Charlotte grabbed Luna.

"I'm terribly sorry about this, Kurt, but we all knew it was coming." Flipping her gorgeous blonde hair over her shoulder, Charlotte leaned down to hug her cousin, little sister still in her arms. "Blaine, it was really nice to meet you. I hope you don't think we're all crazy and horrible now."

"You seem lovely, your brothers, your father, this little darling right here," Blaine leaned over to tickle Luna's stomach, leaning over his 'boyfriend' in the process.

"You two make a really cute couple by the way." The two Dalton boys looked at each other awkwardly as Charlotte pulled impatiently at her mother's arm, leading her out of the room and being followed by her severely-subdued little sister.

"I'm also really sorry about that, but you all know I was baiting it," Kurt half-apologized, and while Carole and Blaine nodded, Finn looked confused.

"What?" Kurt rolled his eyes at his brother's obliviousness.

"Blaine and I were faking dating to make her snap. We... well, I was trying to get rid of her," Kurt explained, his voice patient.

"Really? I thought both of you had just gotten your heads out of your asses," Finn looked even more confused, and Kurt rolled his eyes this time.

"Blaine and I are not dating. I, for one, think it is time for Christmas movies."

In the end, they ended up watching The Grinch Stole Christmas and Room 33 once Burt and Carole had gone to bed. Finn was passed out in his bed almost minutes after they went downstairs, and Kurt and Blaine were getting ready side-by-side. There was silence, but it was perfectly comfortable, occasionally broken by Kurt asking for a product on the opposite side of the bathroom counter.

"Honestly, everyone makes fun of me for having an obsession with my hair," Blaine finally started a conversation, staring at the ridiculous amount of hair product bottles.

"You do have a ridiculous obsession with your hair. As do I, but mine doesn't look like it's glued to my head," Kurt replied without blinking, applying some sort of nasty-smelling liquid to his face.

"Cold." Kurt offered no counter. "So, about church-"

"Blaine. I don't believe in God. Conversation over." Kurt had a remarkable ability to cut the air with a statement.

"You used to go to Church, but you got kicked out?" Blaine asked, completely ignoring his best friend's statement, regarding it as more of a suggestion. Judging by the look Kurt was giving him in the mirror, this view was not appreciated.

"My mother was religious, and, as a child who aspired to have her completely wrapped around my finger, I attended church every Sunday that she was alive. After she died, our priest pulled us aside to express his sympathies for my mother's death. A week later, we received a letter from the church asking us to withdraw from their services because they couldn't condone the sins I was committing. I didn't see my father for twelve hours after. When I next did, he was watching the letter burn. Aunt Mildred finds this story particularly satisfying to bring up." Kurt spoke in a cold, matter-of-fact tone, but Blaine could feel the sadness and anger brewing behind his calm mask.

"I can't imagine... being that cold-hearted to a six-year-old." Kurt smiled at that, for some odd reason.

"That's because you're one of the nicest people I have ever met, no matter how annoying I find you ninety percent of the time." Blaine pressed a quick kiss to his friend's cheek on impulse, noting how Kurt flushed.

"Goodnight, Kurt."

"'Night, babe," Kurt mocked their earlier trick, giving Blaine a saucy wink and purposely strutting out of the bathroom, making his friend double over with laughter at the sink and try really hard not to think too hard about what had just happened.

It wasn't until he got out of the bathroom that he realized Kurt had planned this to steal the air mattress.

A/N: Every single person reading this story hates me, and I understand that. However, chapters should be coming a lot faster, now that I've settled into school, my internet is back up (at the moment), my roommate's back from the hospital, and the insanely difficult program I've been toying with for months is completed and submitted. So, I apologize about the updates.

Flangst. Yep. I writes it. I couldn't just give you guys mindless fluff, that's not how I roll, and you all know that. Kurt's family was fun to make up, and I love the idea of all of them having those amazing eyes. I don't know why. I just do. So now they all have those eyes.

Friendship bracelets: http:/ img0. etsystatic .com /il_fullxfull .69805912. jpg
Blaine's shirt is based on these: http:/ skreened .com/ schlongbottom /i-need-harry-potter & http:/ www. hottopic .com /hottopic/ PopCulture/ EverythingElse /Movies/ Harry-Potter-And-The-Deathly-Hallows-Muggle-TShirt-124512. jsp
The perfume Blaine gives Kurt: http:/ www. sephora .com /browse /product. jhtml?id= P226914
The Buckeyes stuff is off the Ohio State website. Y'all can find that on your own.

Reviews are Love :)