The week chugged by fairly quickly. With classes winding down and (as Wes reluctantly told them) no more Warblers rehearsals, Kurt was extremely relaxed and looking forward to the holidays. He already had plans with Mercedes and Rachel over the festive period. However, when their teacher told them on Thursday morning to "remember to bring food tomorrow," Kurt was confused.
"It's the Christmas party," Blaine explained, in between Trent's squeals of excitement. "We don't have any lessons tomorrow; we all just stay in home room and hang out, pretty much. Then we have a final assembly, and then we all go out for lunch – but that part's optional, obviously."
Kurt's mind raced, thinking of all the cakes he could bake in one evening, and he nodded happily. "Excellent," he said. "So were you going to go out for lunch?"
Blaine shrugged. "I guess so, yeah. Want to come too?"
"Yes, please," Kurt replied immediately.
On Friday, Kurt walked into home room carrying no fewer than five different tins of cake.
"Gosh, Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, rushing to help him. "Did you explode your kitchen?"
"I don't know," Kurt answered breathlessly. "But I do know that you'll want to snap up a chocolate brownie before they're gone. They delicious, even if I do say so myself."
Blaine laughed good-naturedly and nodded. "Noted."
By this time, Trent had arrived and taken a tin from the four that Blaine had chivalrously relieved Kurt of. "Jeez, Kurt, what did you do?" he asked.
"Made cake," Kurt replied. "For the end of the semester."
Trent cracked open the lid of the tin he was carrying and peered inside. "It's this a Yule log?" he asked suspiciously.
"It's two," said Kurt. "I made one and thought that there wouldn't be enough."
"How long did you spend on this, Kurt?" Blaine wondered.
Kurt looked at the floor guiltily. "Too long, I suppose," he admitted. "But Carole was out and Dad was in the garage and I was hardly going to ask Finn to help me – "
"Well, I could've helped," Blaine suggested, and then immediately looked as though he wanted to take it back. He looked awkwardly at Kurt.
Was that what Kurt thought it was? Was he being asked out? In a very convoluted way, yes, but was he?
Kurt met Blaine's gaze. "I suppose I could've asked you," he said slowly, "but I didn't think of you as much of a baker, Blaine."
Blaine shrugged, looking more relaxed. "I'm a man of many talents," he said, smiling.
Kurt mentally agreed, before making a note to ask Mercedes of this was flirting or not. "So, you've baked before?"
Blaine glanced half-heartedly down at his shoes. "I didn't say that."
Kurt laughed and set the tin he was carrying down on the table. He, for the first time that day, really looked at the room. It had been done up overnight, to look painfully festive, with a Christmas tree in the corner wrapped tightly in tinsel, paper chains and strings of bells looped round the room, and even a small sprig of mistletoe dangling delicately from the doorframe. "Who did the room?" Kurt asked, awestruck.
Trent went very red at this, and Kurt and Blaine both turned to face him. "It was a few Warblers who had the idea..." He shrugged. "It seemed like a good one at the time."
"It was an excellent idea." Kurt could hear the admiration in his own voice and, for once, didn't mind it slipping out. "The room looks incredible."
Kurt was feeling more and more festive. Everyone tried his cakes – apart from a boy called Thom who was allergic to eggs, dairy, gluten, nuts, and a very specific ingredient in icing sugar – and raved about them, which improved his mood no end. Their teacher put on some Christmas albums and everyone cheered whenever it was a song that had been done at the Christmas fête (so every other song). Trent insisted that Kurt get up and dance, so Kurt insisted that Blaine get up and dance, and slowly the three of them walked through an adapted version of some Warbler choreography. Inevitably Blaine began singing under his breath, which then became louder, until Kurt joined in with an improvised harmony and Trent found a couple of chords to "ooh".
Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,
But the very next day, you gave it away.
This year, to save me from tears,
I'll give it to someone special.
Was it coincidence that, just as he sang that line, Blaine turned and caught Kurt's eye? Kurt tried not to overthink it as he took the lead.
Once bitten, twice shy,
I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye.
Tell me baby, do you recognise me?
Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise.
It became more of a sing-along at that point, with many of their classmates joining in and only some knowing the lyrics. Kurt laughed and made his way to his desk, perching on the table rather than the chair. He was feeling rebellious.
"I thought we were done singing Christmas duets," Kurt joked as Blaine leant on the table next to him.
"It'd appear not," Blaine laughed. A boy called Ethan had brought in rum cake and they were both feeling the mild effects of it now. "Maybe some things are too good to stop doing."
Kurt looked at Blaine. His tie was slightly askew and he was a little flushed from the sudden movement. Kurt absently wondered how he himself looked – whether his new exfoliating face scrub was making a difference – and checked his hair with one hand.
"God, Kurt, not your hair again," Blaine chuckled. "It always looks amazing: will you please stop worrying?"
The matter-of-fact compliment threw Kurt. Blaine didn't seem to realise he'd said anything out of place, as he waited for a reply.
"Okay," Kurt stammered, his mind racing. It always looks amazing? Amazing? Always? What did that mean?
"Assembly, people!" their teacher announced, turning off the music, to the groans of the boys in the room. "Come on – you can leave your stuff and pick it up afterwards. But I'll be locking up, so don't leave it too late."
Blaine grinned at Kurt and pulled him by the sleeve out of the room. "To assembly!" he said, with what Kurt hoped was fake enthusiasm. He smiled all the same.
The assembly was brief and nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, Kurt headed back to home room relaxed and ready for bed. Blaine had mellowed out somewhat and two of them took their time collecting up all Kurt's cake tins.
"I still can't believe you made all these in one evening," Blaine commented, reaching under a table for one of the lids.
"It's a skill," Kurt agreed, "I grant you that." He smiled sadly. "My mum used to do it amazingly. These are all her old recipes."
Blaine caught Kurt's eye and walked round the table, squeezing him in a one-armed hug. The few remaining boys in the room had gone. Kurt wasn't sure if it was the rum cake or the quiet or Christmas but he suddenly felt teary.
"Should we go?" Kurt suggested.
Blaine smiled. "Alright." He picked up another two tins and headed to the door.
Kurt nearly dropped his second tin and paused to change his tin positioning. He glanced up to see Blaine loitering in the doorway. "Sorry," he said quickly.
"No, don't worry," Blaine responded, withheld laughter changing his voice.
"Shut up, Blaine," Kurt muttered good-naturedly, finally successfully holding both tins at once and walking to Blaine.
Blaine grinned cheekily. "So, we're meeting Trent, Hugo, Stefan.. and a few other people, I think – we thought we'd go to Breadstix."
Kurt nodded, leaning on the doorframe. "Good," he said.
At this point, there was a small tapping noise and a cloud of green and white fell on Blaine's head. "Hey!" he exclaimed, putting his tins down on a nearby shelf and grabbing the offending object. He laughed out loud, investigating it. "Oh my god," he chuckled. "It's the mistletoe."
Kurt's heart thudded against his ribcage. "Are you telling me," he said slowly, "that we were standing under the mistletoe?"
Blaine looked up sharply. He then seemed to try to look more relaxed and glanced up at the doorway. "I guess so," he answered, his eyes falling to his hands, which were playing with the bundle of mistletoe. "Does this mean we have to kiss?" he asked, his laughter more forced now.
Kurt was a stickler for holiday traditions, and he told Blaine so. "One year we didn't take our tree down on January the seventh, so I forced my dad to leave it up all year so we didn't get bad luck," he said.
Blaine was looking at Kurt. "So, what you're saying," he said slowly, "is that we have to kiss or we'll get bad luck?"
Kurt tried to slow his breathing. "I guess so," he answered quietly.
He'd never noticed just how quiet the room was, with Dalton's long corridor absorbing extraneous sounds. Or maybe it was just his brain blocking them out so he could focus on Blaine's brown eyes.
Without breaking eye contact with Blaine, Kurt rested his tins, on the table behind him. Despite them already being fairly close, Blaine took another step. Kurt took a breath. Their faces were inches apart. Blaine was looking at Kurt's mouth as if trying to work out the best way to approach it.
"You're sure about this?" Blaine asked. "Cos I don't want any bad luck."
Kurt almost laughed, tilting his head a bit closer to Blaine's.
He felt Blaine's nose brush his.
And then he felt Blaine's lips on his.
Kurt felt like exploding. His chest was tight and he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. His senses were in overdrive: he could feel Blaine so close to him, smell him, practically taste him. Blaine shifted a little and Kurt responded, breaking off the kiss for a moment before locking lips again. Kurt unconsciously traced a hand over Blaine's shoulder and felt Blaine's arm wind round his waist, pulling him closer.
Time passed – Kurt wasn't sure how much or how quickly – and finally they broke apart. Blaine leant his forehead against Kurt's for a moment, before opening his eyes. Kurt was breathless and thought his knees might give way.
"So, no Nargles in the mistletoe," Blaine said, grinning.
Kurt almost sighed. "Not everything needs a Harry Potter quote, Blaine." It had really spoiled the moment.
Blaine shrugged guiltily, before glancing at his watch. "Oh, we've gotta go!" he said urgently. He grabbed his three tins from the shelf and motioned for Kurt to do likewise before heading out the room.
Kurt reluctantly picked up his two tins – to be fair, he thought, they are bigger than Blaine's three – and followed.