A/N: Sebastian and Kurt take their son for a drive late at night to look at the decorations on the houses in the neighborhood. Written for the Hummel Holidays prompts 'lights' and 'decorations'.

"How about this one?"

Sebastian pulls the SUV to the curb. Before it stops rolling, his husband and son press their noses to the windows, ooh'ing and aah'ing at the exquisitely decorated house across the street.

"Oh…my…gosh!" Thomas says, tugging gently on Hepburn's collar so that the Labradoodle will look out the window with him at the three-floor house, lit from foundation to roof with strings of multi-color twinkle lights, the front yard festooned with animatronic elves, wire-frame reindeer poised as if they were leaping into flight, penguins ice skating, pandas in Santa hats throwing snow balls, and Thomas's favorite, candy cane lights – "Not because they do anything," he explained at the beginning of the night, "but because they just look so delicious!"

"Ooo, ooo, ooo! Papa! Daddy! This one! This one's my favorite!" he declares, bouncing on the back seat in his sugar free hot chocolate and candy cane fueled excitement.

"You've said that about the last seven houses!" Kurt chuckles.

"Well, that's because they're all my favorites!" Thomas says, struggling to hide a yawn, knowing what it'll mean if his dads see. But Kurt does see, and he taps Sebastian on the shoulder in wordless comment.

"Okay, little man," Sebastian says, "just a few more houses, then we're gonna pack it in."

"No!" Thomas whines, another yawn passing his lips along with his complaint. "But, there's a whole bunch more!"

"And we can see them tomorrow night, love," Kurt says. "It's after midnight."

"But…but I'm not sleepy," Thomas insists, looping his arms around his dog's neck and snuggling into his fur.

"Sure you're not," Sebastian says, smirking at Thomas through the rear view mirror. The little boy, partially lost behind the body of his companion animal, fights with all his might to keep one eye open, cocking his eyebrow high in the hopes that it will raise his eyelid with it. Sebastian turns down the next street, creeping behind other cars prowling the neighborhood, looking at the elaborately decorated houses. The houses get larger and brighter as they approach the end of the cul de sac, each owner trying to outdo their neighbor by covering every inch of their property until there isn't a speck of space left. One even has the walkway and driveway filled with the largest collection of Santas Kurt has ever seen, and Kurt wonders how they leave their house.

"Wow," Kurt says in lieu of his exhausted son. "That's just…amazing."

"Yeah," Sebastian agrees, "but you know which one I like the best?"

"Which one?" Kurt asks, turning to face him. His husband has been remarkably stoic for the majority of the drive. Kurt can't begin to guess.

"Why don't I show you?" Sebastian says.

Kurt curls up in the front seat, beneath the cover of Sebastian's cashmere coat, and Sebastian turns up the heater. He drives slowly, following the line of cars around, and before they make it out of the gated community, both Thomas and Kurt fall asleep, snoring softly. Kurt had started dreaming of last Christmas, when his father and Carole came to visit, bringing with him the loudest, most obnoxious present Thomas got that year, when a hand on his knee shakes him awake.

"We're here," Sebastian whispers.

Kurt sits up, his body heavy with sleep and the heat in the vehicle, his eyes sticky as he blinks them open. He pulls himself awake as quickly as he can, curious to see which of the twenty-two houses they saw on that night's tour was his husband's favorite. But when he sees the house they've pulled up to, Kurt's brow wrinkles.

"Bas" - Kurt eyes his husband - "that's our house."

"A-ha," Sebastian agrees, a smug-ish grin on his lips, his eyes practically glued to their little abode – a rather humble house considering Sebastian and Kurt's combined fiscal worth. But they had decided when they got married, knowing for certain that they'd want a child someday, to buy the nicest house in the nicest, non-gated, suburban neighborhood, and live as close to normal lives as they could.

"But" – Kurt looks from his husband's eyes to their home – "we haven't even decorated yet."

"I know," Sebastian says and shrugs. "Doesn't matter. This is the one I like the best."

"You know, I've seen pictures of you celebrating Christmas as a kid," Kurt teases. "Your parents went all out - lights on everything, garland on the walls, poinsettias, tinsel. You even had, what was it, seven Christmas trees?"

"Yeah, which I wasn't allowed to touch, or decorate, or…or anything," Sebastian says sadly. "But it doesn't matter now. I wouldn't care if we had ten lights on our house, or ten thousand. I'll always love this house best. And do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

Sebastian turns to Kurt and smiles.

"Because it has you in it." Sebastian says. "And Thomas."

Kurt watches his husband's expression change, a bit softer and a lot more sentimental than he's seen from Sebastian in a while. Kurt loves these moments, when his husband's less guarded, more vulnerable.

"You know," Kurt says, leaning to his left to get closer to his husband, "you're a big corny dork."

"Yeah, well," Sebastian says, grabbing Kurt's bicep with his right hand and pulling him in for a kiss, "I'm your big corny dork."