Day 6: Type
A/N: This story takes place the evening following Kurt and Blaine's canon duet of "Baby, It's Cold Outside," and assumes that Kurt and Blaine both board at Dalton.
Kurt tossed and turned in bed, trying in vain to get comfortable. The events of the day replayed in his mind over and over. First there was the unexpected duet of "Baby, It's Cold Outside," during which he could swear Blaine was flirting with him, but maybe he was just acting out the meaning of the song. Blaine was a very emotional performer, after all. Then, when Mr. Schue came to visit immediately after, Kurt had blurted out something he'd barely admitted to himself – he was in love with Blaine.
He wasn't sure what had made him say it, but the words came out so easily. Kurt had tried to play it off as a casual comment while he helped his former teacher with gift ideas for Sue (and while he wondered why the man had taken the time to drive all the way to Dalton when a phone call would have sufficed), but once Schue left, Kurt practically collapsed in one of Dalton's many wingback chairs in shock. He was in love. With Blaine.
Turning again from one side to the other in bed, he eyed the alarm clock. It was nearing midnight, and he was no closer to sleep than he'd been an hour ago. Throwing off the covers and rising with a sigh, he pulled on a bathrobe over his pajamas, donned his slippers, and headed down to the student kitchen for a snack.
One of the many amenities at Dalton, the student kitchen very much resembled the kitchen of a (very nice) home, with standard appliances and a large island with high stools around it. The school kept a variety of staple foods in stock, but students were also permitted to keep food from home in the refrigerator, freezer, and cupboards. It never ceased to amaze Kurt that the Dalton boys were disciplined enough to refrain from eating someone else's food. He was sure Finn would have cleaned the place out in a matter of hours.
Tonight, Kurt was simply going to get some warm milk, a tactic that had helped him face many a sleepless night at home. He expected to find the kitchen dark and empty, considering the lateness of the hour, but as he approached, he saw a soft light emanating from the doorway. He peered in and found the overhead lights turned on, but at a low setting, augmented by the glow from the open refrigerator door. A figure stooped in front of the fridge, reaching inside and moving a few things around until he apparently found what he wanted.
"A-ha!" the boy muttered to himself (or so he thought), standing upright and removing a carton of milk before closing the door. He turned around and immediately spotted Kurt standing in the doorway.
"Kurt, what are you doing up?"
Kurt's heart fluttered, and his hand involuntarily raked through his hair once in hopes of taming any bedhead he'd acquired. "I could ask you the same thing, Blaine," he replied lightly, crossing the room and stopping beside him at the island counter.
Blaine shrugged, the movement drawing Kurt's attention to the Dalton crest on his robe. He smiled to himself – a Dalton man, through and through, even down to his PJs. "Couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd try a midnight snack. Care to join me?" he offered, placing the milk carton on the counter.
"You must have read my mind. I came to get some milk myself, though I want mine warm, not cold," Kurt explained.
Blaine raised a brow in interest. "Warm, you say? Intriguing."
Kurt flushed. "I know it's silly, but I used to drink it when I was little. It always seemed to help."
Blaine put a gentle hand on his arm. "It's not silly. It sounds nice. Maybe I'll warm mine up, too."
Kurt couldn't speak, so he only nodded and proceeded to get a saucepan to heat the milk. While he was busy handling the beverages, Blaine reached across the counter and grabbed a round tin with a snowman on the lid and little snowflakes decorating the side. He lifted the lid to reveal an assortment of Christmas cookies.
"I've got some cookies to go with our milk." Blaine settled on one of the high stools and pulled out the one right next to him in an invitation for Kurt to sit beside him.
Kurt, finding the milk to be at the proper temperature, removed it from the heat and poured it into two ceramic mugs he'd taken from the cupboard. He sat beside Blaine and slid his mug over to him. Perusing the various cookies in the tin, he found it difficult to choose one. "They all look delicious. Which would you suggest I try?"
"That depends," Blaine answered with an impish grin.
"Depends on what?"
"On the type of dream you want to have," Blaine said matter-of-factly.
"So, different kinds of cookies produce different kinds of dreams?" Kurt asked, scrunching his nose in confusion.
"Of course. Take this reindeer, for example." Blaine picked up a reindeer cutout cookie with colored icing. "If I have a reindeer cookie, I'll dream about traveling around the world, just like the reindeer that pull Santa's sleigh. If I have one of those star cookies," he continued, pointing to a star-shaped spritz cookie with sprinkles, "I'll dream about singing on a stage in front of a huge crowd of cheering fans."
Kurt laughed and looked at the assortment again. Biting his lip, he reached into the tin and made his selection. "And what about this gingerbread man?"
Their eyes met, and Kurt could swear his heart was beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. "Well," Blaine said, his voice suddenly soft and no longer teasing, "I think a gingerbread man cookie will bring you dreams of a sweet boy who will make you very happy."
When Kurt returned to his room a little while later, his stomach satisfied and his heart full, he fell asleep almost instantly. He did, in fact, dream of a sweet boy who made him very happy, but he knew it had nothing to do with a cookie.
A/N: I got the idea for this from the liverwurst and buttermilk scene in the classic movie "White Christmas."