Wow, January was so busy and rough you have no idea, it really is problematic if I can't find the time to sit down and write. But I hope February will treat me better. If you're still out there, I'll be relieved, so wave a hello if you enjoyed this, and I can GUARANTEE you don't have to wait three months for the next update. Shame on me!

Oh, a reminder - I don't want ANY kind of spoilers for season 6, 'key?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

Kurt is taking his Senior year over two years, so he'll graduate at the same time as his newly coined boyfriend Blaine. They met in a mental hospital more than a year ago, but Kurt didn't think he was good enough, while Blaine thought the other was too good for him. They've been boyfriends for more than a month now, after having hooked up now and then. Now that they're dating, they haven't had sex. Sebastian and Dave are having sex, though, but they are also boyfriends. They're quite the couple, who knew Smythes could be tamed? Dave is in college on a football scholarship, and he's out to some of his friends. He told his dad before Christmas, and got a hug. Sebastian took him out to play ice hockey, where he fell and gave himself a shiner. He told his mom after Christmas, and was kicked out of the house. He ran to Kurt, because at least he knew how to get there, and then rendered Santana speechless, hallelujah! Sebastian's taking him to stay with a grand-aunt for a while, and that's what happened.

"Have you had someone look at your eye?"

Dave rolls his eyes, and winces in pain.

"No, Aunt Christy, but I don't go running to the ER every time I take a hit in football either."

"Let me have a look at it, then," she decides.

"You're not even a real doctor," he says teasingly.

"Oh, I see, we're mocking the old aunt and her 'loony' job? For that I'm taking the bigger cinnamon roll."

Christy cups Dave's face to hold him still while examining his eye. She pulls at his eyelid and makes him follow her finger with only one eye.

"You'll survive," she concludes, and pats his head.

She was surprised when her nephew Paul called out of the blue, and asked if Dave could stay for a couple of days. She had assumed his darling little sister would be coming to, as the two had often come to visit her over the years. Michelle had even slipped and called her grandma when she was younger. Christy is a little bit in love with being their pseudo-grandmother. When it wasn't in her cards to have a family of her own, it meant a lot to her that Paul stayed close and involved his kids with her. But tonight, only Dave came. Paul didn't say much, just something about a family fight – but she didn't get the impression that Dave had done anything wrong.

Dave's mostly been a good boy. Sure, he's a boy with some temper, and being part of the popular footballers in high school had made him cocky. But Christy knew it was mostly fake confidence, and he had crumbled when he ended in the principal's office for bullying one of the other kids. From then on, he'd stayed away from the friends with worst influence, and focused on schoolwork. He'd grown quiet and serious, and Paul had been proud of his son for growing up. But Christy's always been wondering what he's hiding beneath.

He didn't come alone, some handsome boy Christy didn't recognize drove him to her place. As much as it felt impolite to send him away, she had thanked him for getting Dave to her safely. The boy was bright, and recognized a dismissal when he got one. So he'd hugged Dave, whispered something, and left with a polite nod. If there had been a family fight, Christy wanted to spend some time one to one with Dave to clear things up. She may consider herself some kind of alma mater for the Karofsky's.

So she got the boy inside, ordered him to take a shower while she threw together something hot for supper. Her first concern was his black eye, but he'd explained it as an ice hockey accident, and she believes him. Paul would never hit his kids. Dave still hasn't said anything about what happened, though, but in her line of work she's learned long time ago that patience is your most important tool. If he won't talk tonight, there's always tomorrow.

"No, you need to turn into the scene. Surprise the camera and keep the fans on their toes," Cooper instructs, and forcibly spins Blaine in the right direction.

"You're making me dizzy," Blaine groans, and stumbles after a particularly powerful shove so that he'd turn into the frame again.

"I can have that effect on people," Cooper grins toothily. "Eggnog break? I won't tell Mom I add rum in yours," he winks, and Blaine readily accepts.

They sit down on the rug in front of the electric fireplace, not really needing anything hotter during Christmas on the West Coast.

"How are you?"

"I'm good," Blaine shrugs.

"How are you really, then?" Cooper drills his blue eyes into Blaine, until his own eyes water.

"You know…"

"No, I don't know. You haven't been much of a talker lately," Cooper smiles sadly, and pats his arm. "So I worry about my baby brother. Aren't you having a nice Christmas?"

"I miss Kurt," he sighs.

"I bet you do," Cooper wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "But that's not all eating you, is it? Or not eating you, whatever you're into."

"Ass," Blaine says, to Cooper's instant delight, "you're such an ass."

"Aww, you're no fun. Now, tell Uncle Cooper what's wrong."

"I'm just tired. There's a lot of stress before graduation, you know."

"I remember. Are you doing okay, though?"

"My grades are pretty good, and I've improved in French after Kurt started tutoring me."

"Ah, oui oui, le garcon d'amour, trés bien," Cooper says with an awful accent, and Blaine simply shakes his head. "But how about outside classes? Are you… socializing?" he asks hesitantly.

"I'm still not crazy about crowds, if that's what you're asking." He tries not to think about the disastrous first date with Kurt right after he got the beautiful roses.

"But you're still singing with the Warblers?" Blaine nods, and Cooper bounces excitedly on his butt. "I'm so proud of you, Squirt. I know it's not easy for you to draw attention to yourself. I probably should have let you shine some more on your own when we were kids," he winks, even if they both know that Blaine's issues has nothing to do with his childhood, and everything to do with a certain Sadie Hawkins' dance.

"You know I'm proud of you, right?" he says more seriously, and wraps a loose arm around Blaine's shoulders. "You're the toughest guy I know. Just remember you're allowed to fight for your own good too. You don't always have to be an altruistic Nightbird," he winks, and Blaine blushes. He wishes his brother didn't know that he still sometimes surrounds himself with the childhood superhero-persona he developed.

"So, have Kurt and you made any plans for when you move to New York?" Cooper asks out of the blue, and Blaine's head automatically jerks around to see if their father is around. He doesn't want him to know he has applied to colleges and schools he wouldn't approve of, that doesn't fit with his plan for Blaine. But their father is nowhere to be seen.

"No, but I guess we should start talking about it, looking for an apartment and how we want to start our new life together," Blaine smiles dreamily. He can't wait to move in with his boyfriend. "You saw me mail the applications, so I'm just waiting, hoping one of them'll accept me."

"They'll all want you, or they're crazy. Where did Kurt apply?"

Blaine furrows his forehead. Where did Kurt apply? He knows they talked a lot about his college applications, Kurt even read one of his essays. And Kurt mentioned briefly how Rachel was studying at NYADA, a place he'd considered too.

"I… I'm not sure, to be honest. I'll have to ask him the next time I see him…" Blaine admits embarrassed. "I'm such an awful boyfriend."

"No, you're not, you have a lot on your mind, that's all. A teenage boy during his Senior year, how can we expect you to have the brain capacity to think about more than your own graduation and sex?" Cooper teases.

Blaine smiles hesitantly, and looks away.

"What?" Cooper laughs. "I'm allowed to tease my baby brother. I know what it's like, you don't have to be ashamed. When I was your age…"

"…you met the one every single month," Blaine continues for him, "I remember."

"I have a lot of love to give," Cooper shrugs amused. "But everything's fine with the two of you? You're happy with Kurt?"

"I love him," Blaine says easily.

"And he loves you?"

"Yeah," Blaine exhales, and the sigh should have sounded more happy than it does. For once, Cooper catches the subtle nuances.

"But?" he prods.

"Boob," Blaine replies childishly.

"Come on, Blainers. I give great relationship advice; I've been with hundreds of women!"

"Have you ever been with a man?" Blaine deadpans, one eyebrow raised teasingly.

"There was this drag queen I flirted with once, until I noticed the poor tucking under her miniskirt. Come on, tell me, or I'm forced to give you more spiked eggnog," Cooper smiles, and bumps his shoulder against Blaine's.

"He doesn't find me attractive anymore," Blaine finally admits, staring at his bent knees. "Lately, I haven't been boxing as much as I used to, and there's been a lot of movie nights with assorted snacks at Dalton. I know I've looked better," Blaine sighs, and pulls at his fitted polo, which suddenly feels too tight, clinging to his pouchy stomach.

"Kurt said he doesn't find you attractive?" Cooper exclaims, so honestly shocked he forgets to point.

Blaine shakes his head, and puts the mug away. Eggnog. Stupid calories.

"What did he do?" Cooper says, his voice deep and serious, almost warningly.

"He stopped having sex with me," Blaine whispers into his hands, more mortified than when he needed help from Cooper to use the toilet after the Sadie Hawkins-dance.

"That's… Poor Condo," he murmurs, looking between his own legs. "How long has it been?"

"I'm not discussing my sex life with you," Blaine whimpers.

"I thought you didn't have a sex life."

"Coop!" Blaine groans.

"17 days."

"What?"

"17 days since the Condo got some action."

"TMI, bro, TMI."

"I share, you share."

"Overshare."

"Timeshare."

"What the fuck, Cooper?"

"Look, you don't have to give me details, but if you're not happy in the relationship…"

"I love him," Blaine says. "I love him so much, and I wouldn't even miss sex at this stage, if we didn't… have a history…"

"For how long have you been dating?"

"Around six weeks."

"Wow, that's a lot!" Cooper whistles impressed. To him, six weeks covers at least two girlfriends, and Blaine reminds him about it. "And the last time you had sex…?"

"Then we weren't dating," Blaine finally admits, blinking back tears. He just doesn't understand what changed, why Kurt isn't attracted to him anymore, but still wanted to date him.

"I don't know how gay logic works… But have you tried talking with him?"

"Not directly?"

"You haven't sent him an owl, have you?" Cooper teases.

"No," Blaine groans. "No, I've… I've tried to seduce him?"

"And he didn't bite?"

"I suck at this. I'm getting chubby, and I'm unable to arouse my boyfriend."

"Blaine," Cooper says seriously. "If Kurt thinks you're fat and unsexy, then you really need to reconsider your taste in men. You deserve the best, nothing less."

"Thank you," Blaine says awkwardly. He still doesn't know what to do, but at least he realizes he needs to confront Kurt with this. He can't let it chew him like this. And he needs to talk with Kurt about college, and stop being such a selfish boyfriend. He rests his head on Cooper's shoulder.

"Do you think Mom would notice if we flipped the fire upside-down?"

Blaine laughs. "Probably."

"Good morning," Christy greets the yawning teenager stumbling into her kitchen. "Sleep well?"

"Yesss," Dave hisses as he stretches, working through the last kinks in his back and neck.

"And your eye?"

"It slept well too," Dave answers cheekily, and at least Christy is glad to see that he still has his humour, even if he could be more cooperative.

"Because of the short notice I haven't had time to buy your favourites yet, but help yourself to anything you can eat," she says, and waves a finger around in the kitchen.

"That's okay," Dave shrugs. "I'm trying to cut down on sugar anyway, so those cereals aren't my friends."

"Are you sick?" Christy wonders.

"No? Oh, it's not a health-diet," Dave adds, remembering when his dad got severe diabetes and everyone in the family had to learn how to cook and bake food he could eat. "Coach wants us to eat healthily, but he hasn't banned cereals or anything. I just thought I'd… You know, take better care of my body," he shrugs, but his blush reveals he's anything but nonchalant.

"What's their name?" Christy asks, hiding her amusement behind the morning paper and her cup of tea.

"You know very well the name of my favourite cereal," Dave deadpans. He always was a clever boy. Oh well, she'll get to the bottom of it, even if he knows very well what her profession is.

"No phones by the table," she sing-songs at the sound of music coming from Dave's kangaroo pocket on his hoodie. Dave grins, and hurries outside.

After five minutes, he's still standing on the porch in his socks.

"Teenagers in love," she mutters to herself, and empties her oversized tea mug. She grabs a blanket and a pair of loafers, and joins Dave.

"Hang on, Babe," he mutters at the sight of his grandaunt.

"Just lift your feet, idiot," she mutters back, kneeling to shove his feet in the loafers. He obliges.

"I'm being dressed," he says to the phone. "Not like that, you ass," he laughs. Christy wonders if you usually call your sweetheart an ass. When she was young…

No, she's not going down there, when she was young it was a different millennium. Dave can be who he is, say what he wants, and do as he pleases as long as he doesn't hurt anyone. And whoever is on the other end probably doesn't mind being called an ass, considering how their conversation continues. It's not as if she hasn't had worse yelled at her from frustrated and helpless patients.

She wraps the blanket around his shoulders, and he smiles lopsided and bashfully at her, mumbling a thank you. Dave's still too rough around the edges to be a proper gentleman, but he's come far, and he is entirely good.

Back inside, she wonders if cupcakes made with proper sugar would be a nice snack today, if Dave's caught in the middle of a family fight. She should probably call Paul too, for updates.

When Dave returns, he is glowing. She stops spooning chunks of dough on the baking plate to look at him properly.

"Cookies? You're making cookies? How long was I gone?"

"Oh, not for long, just fifty minutes or so," she teases.

"It explains my frozen fingers," Dave grins.

"It must be someone special."

Dave nods slowly.

"I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for me too."

Christy then makes a deal with Dave. If he'll shovel her driveway after the snowfall, she'll have cookies and hot chocolate ready for him when he's done. As soon as he's out of the door, she calls Paul.

"Are you still fighting with the wife?" she quickly asks after the initial pleasantries.

"That wouldn't be possible right now," Paul huffs. "She said she'd go to her sister to celebrate New Year's there, and took Michelle with her."

"Now that's interesting," Christy hums, "because we both know she's an only child."

"Exactly."

"Paul… Is she cheating on you?"

"If she were, I wouldn't even care about that right now."

"Oh Paul, what's going on?"

"I love Dave very, very much. He's my son, and I'd do anything for him. I have no wish to choose between my family members. But if she forces out an ultimatum… Then she's gone."

"I understand something upsetting must have happened," Christy says soothingly, her work training kicking in. "But people react differently to the same thing. Have you tried to see whatever this is from her point of view? Maybe you both need some time to calm down, separately."

"She's a mother. She shouldn't…"

"Paul, when it comes to basic emotions, there are no norms, just spontaneous reactions."

"She was awful," Paul huffs.

"People do mistakes all the time."

"But she's a mother, setting an example for Michelle. How is Dave?"

"He's shoveling snow in exchange of fresh cookies and hot chocolate."

"You spoil him," Paul admonishes. "Good," he then adds. "He deserves it. Has he told you anything?"

"Not yet."

"Just… Have patience with him?"

Christy gives him her reassurances, and decides not to take his comment as an insult to her professional skill, but rather the result of true concern from a distraught father.