ELLIOTT

Elliott had never been happier for his yoga and meditation experiences than over Christmas dinner. After his mother had talked at length about the price of the meat she was serving (and how there's no pricetag on quality), the new mint green paint on the walls of their living room (and how much difference it made to the beige), his stepfather had started a series of long, politically incorrect monologues, only interrupted occasionally by encouraging and admiring words from Elliott's mother. Elliott focused his eyes on the mint green behind his stepfather's head and went through several cycles of Three Breaths, ignoring the speech about how 'millennials were all single and miserable because they were incapable of partnerships and compromise'.

Then, his stillness was chased away by an unexpected direct question.

"How about you? Have you managed to tie a girl down yet?"

His stepfather was looking at him.

"Uh," Elliott started, "Actually, Ted, I'm-" A sharp pain shot through his shin. His mother was glaring at him, and Elliott quickly gathered her intentions. No coming outs over Christmas roast. "Very busy with my education right now," he finished, picking his battles.

"See? That's what I mean!" Ted said, pointing his fork at Elliott while looking at his wife. "Too self-involved to think about starting a family!" He scoffed. "Then again, it's not like you could afford one, anyway. Studying arts. There's no work in that."

Elliott bit down on several possible replies, knowing they'd only make the discussion last longer. Maybe he could shut it down. "I have a job, actually," he said calmly.

"You do?" His mother asked, astounded. "You didn't tell me about that."

Instinctively, her hurt tone made Elliott feel guilty. Then, he remembered the long talks he'd had about her with Kurt, who'd told him over and over again that he owed her nothing just for being her son. Respect and loyalty had to be earned, and she hadn't done anything lately that warranted being informed about his life. Elliott doubted she even really wanted to. It was like she had given up trying when his father died, like she had only ever loved him for her husband's sake.

"Well, I am a copywriter now. Part-time of course. Still studying useless art, too."

"So what is that?" Ted asked, a little crossly for having his assumptions proven wrong. "Something with books?"

"No, I write advertisements for websites, like when you google-"

"Oh my god, I really hate those!" Ted interrupted. "I don't understand why they still have ads. No one ever clicks them-"

"I definitely never click them," Elliott's mother agreed eagerly.

"And they're so annoying, always blocking your screen and flashing and starting music-" Ted continued, waving his hands frantically to mimic a blinking screen.

"So inappropriate," Elliott's mother added.

"Actually, I don't make any pop-ups or overlays-" Elliott started, "just non-intrusive, text-based ads that show up on the side of your screen, triggered by your search-" He wasn't allowed to finish.

"Non-intrusive!" Ted repeated. "They intrude upon my privacy! I can't even use the internet without advertisers spying on me, bugging me, pushing their products in my face-"

"Isn't that even illegal?" Elliott's mother chimed in.

Elliott gave up. "Maybe I'll take some wine after all, mom," he mumbled, nodding at his empty glass.

"Kurt? Hey. I know it's Christmas Eve and you're with your dad, and….that's great, you know, I wish my dad was here too, I'd totally hang out with him if he wasn't dead. Um. That's not what I wanted to say. You know what? Blaine is an asshole. What he did, that was...not cool. It was like, the shittiest thing anyone ever, I mean- you are just perfect and he's so - He didn't deserve you. But you know that I guess. I mean, you broke up with him, right? Yeah. I'm sorry, I'm not making sense. I'm a little...But...man, I miss you. A lot. Not just now, but, like, all the time when you're not there. That's what I meant the other day. You should come stay at my place. With me. For real. Because… we make sense. You and I. Together. And I promise to treat you with respect and never cheat on you or break your stuff or ruin your clothes on purpose and I will cook for you if you want- I… I love you, Kurt. So….ok. I gotta pee."

"BEEP."

KURT

It took Kurt a moment to realize what the buzzing noise was that woke him up. When he finally understood, it had already stopped. Kurt blinked in the dark, trying to focus his bleary eyes, and checked the clock. It was very early on Christmas morning. It was still dark outside. He reached for his phone and saw that Elliott had left a message while he was asleep, and that he had already tried calling twice that morning- once just now. Wondering what was so important, Kurt sat up in his bed and called Elliott back.

"Hey. Merry Christmas. What's going on?" he asked as Elliott picked up.

"Kurt. Have you checked your messages yet?" Elliott asked urgently.

"Uh, no, I just woke up and saw that you called, figured I'd better call right away..."

"Can you please delete it?"

Kurt frowned, shaking his head a little in the dark. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm not really awake yet. What do you mean?"

"My voice mail from last night. Just delete it, please. Please, Kurt, trust me on this."

"Okay," Kurt replied, still confused. "Hold on." He tapped out of the call to erase his mailbox, then put the phone back to his ear. "Done. Now what was that all about?"

"Did you delete it?"

"Yes. I just said so- Elliott, what is going on? What happened? Did you butt-dial me while you were doing something embarrassing?" A series of scenarios presented themselves in Kurt's head, and some of them were quite sexy- he kind of regretted deleting the message now.

Elliott's side of the line was quiet for a moment. The longer it took, the more worried Kurt got. If it was just something like Elliott accidentally recording himself masturbating, he would have told him by now.

"I was so drunk last night," Elliott admitted in a small, pained voice.

"You? But I thought you didn't-"

"I don't. I mean, I try not to, but- they were driving me crazy, Kurt. Mom and Ted. I couldn't help it. I know alcohol is never the answer, but-"

"Hey. It's okay. It's okay, honey," Kurt calmed him. "Are you very sick?"

"A little. I didn't have that much, but it got to my head fast."

"Mmmm. I guess that happens when you're not in training. So ...you guys had a fight?"

"Sort of. They were really going for me, like, nothing I ever do is going to be good enough."

Kurt cringed at Elliott's tone, which was unusually hurt. He was always so self-confident. Nothing fazed him, ever. Even when he had talked about his family situation in the past, he had always made it sound like he was irritated, more than afflicted by it. Had that been self-preservation? Maybe he and Elliott had even more in common than Kurt already knew.

"I'm sorry. You know they're full of shit, right?" Kurt paused, but Elliott didn't reply. "And then you had too much to drink and… made a few embarrassing calls?" he prompted.

"Just one, to you. I… don't even remember exactly what I said, but I know I said some rude stuff about Blaine, and...some other...stuff. Kurt, I feel awful about it."

"Don't. I don't mind. Whatever you said, it doesn't matter. I erased it, right?"

"Yeah." The line went quiet again.

"Come on, I puked on your shoes. Fair is fair. I'm actually glad you're not perfect."

"I'm far from perfect."

"Not that far." Kurt listened to the silence on the other side and realized Elliott was probably thinking about the fight with his mom and stepdad.

"Do you want to go over what they said so I can debunk it?" he offered

"No, thanks. I'd rather not think about it, right now." Elliott sighed. "How was your Christmas eve?"

Kurt sighed. "Hard. But I guess that's what we all expected. Our first Christmas without Finn was always going to be tough. We did as well as we could."

He lay back into his pillows again and looked up at the ceiling. "It's funny. At the funeral, all I could think about were the big things. You know, all the milestones in life, in our lives and his own, that he was gonna miss. Finishing college. Getting a full-time job. Starting a family. Being thanked in my first Tony speech."

Kurt heard Elliott chuckle a little, and the sound made him smile as well. It helped. It was too hard to talk about this and not try to keep the pain at distance with humor..

"But I never considered all the small things," Kurt continued. "My dad, stoically sitting through the 'sportsperson of the year special' all by himself. Carole, making way too much food. And me, well…" Kurt bit his lip, and his voice wavered as his throat started closing up. "Me short of someone to blame for losing Christmas Eve charades." He let out a small sob. "It's stupid. It's stupid."

"No, it's not," Elliott said. "You're allowed to miss the little things too."

"I miss everything," Kurt whispered.

"I wish I could have met him," Elliott said.

Kurt cleared his throat and forced it to cooperate. "Me too," he said, then laughed a little. "He'd probably say something like 'finally someone I can see eye to eye with'. You know. Because he was a giant like you."

Elliott laughed. Then he grew quiet again. Kurt wondered who he was thinking of. His dad, probably.

"Hey, do you want to spend New Year's Eve with me?" Kurt suddenly asked. "Isabelle invited me to a private party, I wasn't gonna go, but I was thinking of coming back to New York early-"

"I thought you were going to stay in Lima?" Elliott asked.

Kurt shrugged. "After last night, I don't think my dad will mind. It's like us being together as a family only reminds everyone of how incomplete we are."

"Well, that won't go away until you practise being a family with those who are left," Elliott said gently.

"I know," Kurt replied with a sigh, "I've been through it before. But I don't want to force it."

Elliott was quiet for a bit. Then, he said: "It takes time."

"It does. Two days is enough for now. I don't want to put Carole in a position where she has to look at me and my dad ring in the new year while she stands there by herself. She needs my dad more than I do right now."

"I understand. Of course, if you're sure about coming home, that'd be awesome," Elliott said.

"I am." Kurt smiled at the way Elliott had referred to New York as 'home' even though neither of them were born there. He was right, though- it had felt like home ever since the first time he set foot there. Even more so now that he had a real best friend to come back to.

Then, he remembered something. Before they planned the end of the year, they still had something else to do. It was Christmas Morning!

"Wanna open each other's presents now?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea," Elliott replied. "Hold on."

Kurt used the moment to pull a small, soft, giftwrapped square from his bedside drawer. Elliott had given it to him before he left, making him promise he'd wait until December 25th to open it. In return, Kurt had given him his present to take along to his family as well.

"Okay, are you ready?" Kurt asked, putting his phone on speaker.

"Yep," came from the other side. "Three, two, one, go!"

Kurt eagerly peeled at the tape that held his present together- then got impatient and tore the paper open. He gasped. "Elliott, you didn't," he mumbled, and gingerly lifted the silk scarf from its wrapping.

"Oh my god, Kurt, this is awesome!" Elliott said happily, clearly having opened his present. Kurt had made a self-digitalized cd of his fleamarket glamrock vinyls. It was a mix of the songs Elliott played the most when they hung out at the loft. Kurt was quite happy with how it turned out, but it felt very inadequate next to the present he had just received.

"Elliott, this is way too expensive. I can't let you do that. I know you need the money," he said sternly, taking a longing look at the scarf before putting it back in the paper.

"Do you like it?"

"Of course I do, I've been eying it for months at the auctions but I never got lucky."

"Well, I did."

"Still," Kurt argued, "You really shouldn't have. This would easily pay for your yoga classes for a month or more."

"Don't worry about it. I'm serious. You know that box of Western novels you helped me put on ebay? Turned out they were collector's items."

Kurt bit his lip. He wasn't sure if it made it better or worse knowing that the money for his present had come from Elliott selling his dad's books.

"Come on," Elliott said. "It's Christmas, and you deserve it."

"Thanks," Kurt replied, touching the soft fabric tenderly. "So, what are your plans for today?" he asked.

"Brunch with my mom's extended family. I guess it'll be okay. I doubt Ted will make a scene in front of his inlaws, and some of my cousins are all right. After that, home. I don't want to spend another night here."

Kurt winced a little at Elliott's miserable tone, and looked for something to try and cheer him up. "Brunch is not too bad. It means you can get back to bed for a little bit and sleep off last night first."

"Nah. I'm awake now. I might as well get dressed."

From Elliott's side of the line, Kurt could hear he had put on his new cd. He smiled, then yawned. "Well, I still need to finish my beauty sleep." He hung his shawl out where he could see it, burrowed himself back into the blankets and put his phone on his pillow next to him.

"Don't hang up," he mumbled. "I wanna listen to the music."

"Okay. Sleep well, Kurt. And merry Christmas."

Kurt smiled and closed his eyes, letting himself drift back into sleep.