Only Kurt fucking Hummel, Dave thought as he read over the email again. And again. And again. This was the only form of contact they'd had since the break-up, and fuck, he couldn't... Kurt had never figured it out. Kurt was smarter than that, so if he didn't know it was because he'd chosen not to see it. He bit his lip as he wondered if he should answer. No, he wasn't going to do that. Kurt had said probably a million times that he'd done this so he could have some form of closure. It was Dave's fault for opening it up, for listening to the stupid playlist. He should have known better. But seeing Kurt's name in his email had been so damn intriguing. He had meant to ignore it, but he couldn't take it anymore.

He pushed back from his desk. There was no way he was going to sit in here and let himself reread the stupid email again. He headed downstairs, where his father was sitting in the living room, watching some stupid Christmas movie.

I'll have a blue Christmas without you

Oh, wait. He knew that movie. They watched it every Christmas. A tradition of sorts. It's A Wonderful Life. He wondered for a moment why the hell his dad was watching it, and then he noticed the bottle of whiskey. Oh. He sat down next to his dad on the couch, staring at the bottle. It was about two-thirds full, which meant that his dad hadn't had much to drink at all so far.

"Oh, hey Dave." His dad said, looking over at him.

"Hey dad."

"Christmas'll be a bitch this year, huh?"

"Yeah," Dave said with a laugh. His dad was pretty straightforward with him a lot of the time now, and a lot freer with his tongue since his mother had moved out. She'd never approved of cursing, which he knew his dad had hated. He always forgot when he was about with Dave, muttering a string of obscenities until Dave had reminded him that he wasn't allowed to say those things. Then his father would buy him an ice cream cone if he promised not to tell his mother. Oh, what a wonderful childhood he'd had. So much ice cream.

"You having anyone over this year?" His dad asked. Dave picked at the hem of his shirt, biting his lip.

"Nah. You?" Dave asked.

"Nope. You goin' to your mom's?"

"No way."

"Have to talk to her at some point, David."

"Like hell I do."

"She's still your mother."

"I don't give a damn."

"Alright, Dave." His father sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Dave wondered what his life would have been like if it had been his father who'd hated that he was gay instead of his mother. He wondered if he would have gotten along as well with his mother. If he would have moved in with her after the divorce. Probably. He couldn't even stand to be around his mother. Not since she'd tried to force him into that special therapy that was supposed to make him "straight." He didn't understand why she couldn't just accept that he was gay. Why she couldn't just accept and love him like she was supposed to.

"Got an email from Kurt today." Dave said. He hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but it was out now, and he hated the pitiful look he was getting from his father right now.

"Good or bad?" His dad asked.

"Um. Good for him. He said he's moving on, which will be good for him."

"I still don't understand why you two broke up in the first place."

"Long story." Dave sighed.

"Here," His dad said, passing the bottle of whiskey over to him. "Feel better."

Dave stared at the bottle now in his hands. Alcohol never got him anything good. He'd also been watching his father trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol for months now, and he could see that it honestly wasn't the best coping mechanism.

I'll be so blue just thinking about you

But if it meant forgetting about Kurt for a night, he'd do it. He set the bottle between them on the couch before moving into the dining room to his dad's bar. He opened up the cabinet, which he knew hadn't been locked since his mother had moved out. Reaching in, he pulled out his favorite shot glass and went back into the living room. Passing by their poor excuse for a Christmas tree. A tiny little tree sitting on an end table.

Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree

Dave wondered if the Hummel-Hudsons had their tree up yet. He remembered spending the day after Thanksgiving last year, helping them put their tree up and then decorating it. Kurt was kind of a freak when it came to decorating Christmas trees, he'd discovered. Then again, that was Kurt's area of expertise, wasn't it? He couldn't even remember the theme from last year, but he remembered it had something to do with red and gold. Gryffindor? No. That couldn't be right. Kurt was a Slytherin.

Won't be the same if you're not here with me

Dave sighed and took a seat next to his dad, pouring himself a shot. He filled his father's shot glass as well. They both held up their glasses, toasting to a shitty Christmas season and then downing their shots quickly. It'd been a while since Dave had any whiskey, so he choked a bit as his throat burned. His father grinned and clapped him on the back, and the two of them spent the night getting wasted.

Dave didn't remember dragging himself up the stairs. Well, it had been more like crawling, as he kept falling when he tried to walk. His dad was laughing at him, his face so red that Dave thought his head was going to explode. Dave rolled his eyes, muttering something unintelligible as he crawled into his room and up onto his bed. He could see his laptop out of the corner of his eye, and the email was still up. He stumbled his way over to the chair, stubbing his toe on the corner of his desk with a loud, "Fuck!" He plopped down in the chair, leaning slightly as he typed.

Hfasdve ad nide fickaseig whasditse casdhirmas Kurt.

He pulled up a song and attached it to the message before hitting the send button without a single care. Take that, Kurt fucking Hummel. He shut the lid of his laptop and crawled back over to his bed. He pulled the covers up over his head and fell into an alcohol-induced sleep.

He woke the next morning, squinting at the bright light coming in through the window. Fuck, that hurt. He looked around his room, shielding his eyes against the light. There was a glass of water and some aspirin on his nightstand. He made a note to thank his dad later and took the aspirin, downing the glass of water. He slid out of bed, rubbing his eyes and moved towards the window. Why was it so fucking bright? One glance out his window told him everything.

And when those blue snowflakes start falling
That's when those blue memories start calling

Dave shook his head and closed the curtains, stepping away from the window. The first snow. He remembered the first snow last year. He'd been so excited about it, because even as a teenager, snow made him all giddy. There were a million different things you could do. Last year, he'd raced over to Kurt's house, dragging him out of bed. He'd made Kurt wear that silly looking snowsuit, and Kurt was content because he got to wear one of his precious scarves. They'd gone sledding and had a blast. They'd done a million other snow-related things last year as well, from Dave teaching Kurt to ice-skate to building a snowman to even having a snowball fight with Finn, Burt, and Carole. He was sure Kurt was probably going to do those things with Blaine this year.

You'll be doing alright with your Christmas of white
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue Christmas

Dave slowly made his way downstairs. His dad was on the couch, staring at the television, which wasn't on. He shook his head and went into the kitchen. He'd stopped trying to make sense of his father ages ago. He made himself some breakfast, bacon and eggs, before heading back into the living room. He passed the Christmas tree on his way in, glaring at it for reminding him of Kurt. Was every fucking thing going to make him of Kurt?

Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won't mean a thing if you're not here with me

"I'm gonna redecorate the tree." Dave told his dad.

"Why?" His dad asked, looking over at him.

"I don't know," Dave shrugged. "I think some other colors would look better."

Dave was sure his dad could probably see through it, but his dad wouldn't say anything. That was the nice thing about his dad. He didn't press for information like his mother always had. His dad just shrugged and tugged out a book. Ah, so he'd been reading. Well, that made Dave feel less worried about his dad watching tv without it being on.

He went up to the attic, looking for the box of decorations they'd always used for the little tree. The little tree was usually put in Dave's room, and then they'd all gone out to get a real tree for the living room. A family thing. Back when they used to function like a real family. Before Dave had come out. Neither Dave or his dad had wanted to go out and get a real tree this year, so they'd just put up the little one in the living room. He finally found the box, opening it up to look through the different colors. Red ones were on the tree. He wasn't doing gold. Blue reminded him of Kurt. How about silver? Yeah, silver wouldn't make him think of Kurt. He put the lid back on the box and made his way downstairs. He hummed as he took the decorations off the tree.

I'll have a blue Christmas, that's certain
And when the blue heartache starts hurtin'

He hardly realized his dad was singing along until he stopped humming. He turned to look at his father, who just grinned at him.

You'll be doin' alright with your Christmas of white
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas

"Definitely going to be a blue one, Dave." His dad told him, smiling sadly.

"Amen to that."