“You’re doing it wrong.” Rachel said pointedly as she glanced at the box Blaine was wrapping.

“Am not!” Blaine retorted as he struggled with the pieces of scotch tape attached to his fingertips.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to help me with my Christmas wrapping if I knew you were so incompetent.” Rachel sniped as she curled a strand of ribbon with the scissors.

“You know that you’re supposed to be grateful when someone offers selflessly to do you a favour right? I feel like you missed that day of kindergarten,” said Blaine.

Blaine was sprawled across Kurt’s living room floor with Rachel and the three of them were hiding away from the snow storm going on outside. He pushed his thick framed glasses further up his nose and stuck his tongue out as he fiddled with the corners of the wrapping paper. Why did this have to be difficult?

“Come on, children, play nice.” Kurt called from the kitchen where he was immersed in a storm of Christmas baking.

Rachel sniffed and resumed her watch on Blaine.

Noticing her critical eyes, Blaine said “Aren’t you Jewish anyway? Why all the Christmas presents?”

“I can be Jewish and still want to give gifts to my friends and family.” She replied before continuing, “No, you’re crushing the ribbon. I thought you would be good at this, considering how Kurt keeps raving about how good you are with your hands.” She grinned at Blaine through her fringe of hair and winked.

“Oh god! Rachel!” Kurt yelled from the kitchen. “Do I have to stitch your lips closed to get you to keep anything to yourself?”

Blaine burst out laughing. “Well. This wouldn’t be so difficult if I could wrap the presents with my tongue. Did Kurt say anything about that?” he managed to choke out through his laughter.

Rachel started laughing hysterically.

Kurt emerged from the kitchen, trying to look stern in his apron and oven mitts, glaring at Blaine and Rachel while they rolled around on the floor, laughing and clutching their sides.

“Seriously, I’m going to ban both of you from my apartment if you don’t cut that out” he said.

“You’re just the Grinch this year because Julius has you working right till Christmas Eve.” Rachel said when she finally composed herself.

“I think that makes him the Grinch, not me. But yes, I’m miffed that I can’t go home until Christmas Eve. You’ll be in Lima with everyone while I’m still slaving away here, all by my lonesome.” Kurt sighed as he headed back into the kitchen.

“Hey what about me?” Blaine called after him scrambling up from his spot on the floor and following Kurt. “I’ll be here.”

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist as he stood over the oven, placing a soft kiss on Kurt’s neck.

Kurt purred quietly. “Mmmm, yes, that’s one good thing.”

“Quit.” Blaine suggested simply.

“What?” Kurt asked, looking up from the bread dough he was kneading.

“If working for Julius makes you so miserable, then quit.” Blaine said quietly as he slipped his fingers through the loops of Kurt’s knit sweater.

Blaine rested his chin on Kurt’s shoulder as he formulated an answer. Blaine adored the way Kurt’s cheeks were flushed just slightly red from the heat of the kitchen.

“In a perfect world...” Kurt began, “I would quit working for Julius, I’d open my own gallery uptown and have all the best painters in New York show their work there. I’d paint too. I’d be my own boss, I would work whatever hours I wanted, but most importantly, I would be doing something I loved. I’d be free.”

Blaine was surprised. He hadn’t expected that honest an answer from Kurt. But he was touched too, that Kurt would share that with him when we was usually so reserved; so practical when it came to work.

“That’s a beautiful dream.” Blaine breathed.

“And a dream it will remain.” Kurt said as flipped the dough into the pan. “I need the money I earn from Julius. I’m good at it too.”

Blaine recognized the note of finality in Kurt’s voice, so he didn’t push further.

Instead, he nuzzled into Kurt’s neck, taking in the smell of ginger and brown sugar that filled the kitchen and had settled on Kurt’s skin. He wanted to take in as much of him as he could before he left for Lima for a week to be with his family for the holidays.

“So you think I’m good with my hands eh?”

Kurt turned around so he could kiss Blaine on the mouth. “You’re okay.”

“Okay?” Blaine smirked. “Just okay?” he asked as he slipped his hands underneath Kurt’s shirt and ran them across the bare skin just above his belt. He dipped his hand lower, skimming across the already visible bulge in Kurt’s pants, causing him to buck forward a little into Blaine’s hands.

“I don’t know, why don’t you keep going and- ”

Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful!

Kurt groaned as he was interrupted by Rachel belting out the opening lines of “Let it Snow” while she accompanied herself on the piano.

Blaine laughed, “Let’s join her.” He was never one to turn down a song, so he grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him from the kitchen.

“Funny how every time I let her into my apartment I end up regretting it.” Kurt said as he let himself be dragged away from his baking.

You’re as cuddly as a cactus; you’re as charming as an eel Mr. Grinch

Blaine sang, teasing Kurt.

He sat down at the piano bench beside Rachel and joined her impromptu carolling, letting himself feel that maybe, just maybe this Christmas would be a good one.

~*~

“Owww.” Kurt moaned as Blaine pulled him up off the ice once again.

“My ass is so sore.” He complained as he tried to steady himself on the skates.

Blaine wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You are a child.” Kurt said as he wobbled forward.

Blaine took his mitten covered hand and led him around the rink in Rockefeller center. The rink was crowded on December 23rd and they had to navigate themselves carefully around the swarms of skaters swaddled in layers of scarves and coats.

“I need to move somewhere with less winter. Winter always ends up injuring me.” Kurt mused as they passed a group of giggling preteens.

Blaine gave him a look that suggested he wanted more information. So Kurt began,

“Well, when I was twelve, I was tobogganing with some of the neighbours and I crashed right into a huge rock. I guess I came home with a bunch of blood on my face because my dad screamed like Wendy in the Shining. I then proceeded to puke on his shoes because I had a concussion.”

Blaine laughed. Kurt’s storytelling had gotten quite animated.

“I think I remember it so well because of the way my dad reacted. He didn’t even flinch when I puked on him. He just hugged me and reassured me that I would feel better soon.”

Kurt sighed. It had always felt that when he was a kid, his dad could sense when he missed his mother the most and made up for it with a little extra love.

“You miss him.” Blaine said.

“Yeah. I mean, I belong here in New York, he knows that, but sometimes I wish it wasn’t quite so far away.”

Kurt noticed that Blaine was staring down at his skates fixedly and he brought one mitten covered hand up to his face to smack his forehead.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel...” Kurt began.

“No, no. It’s nice to hear stories about your dad. He sounds like an amazing guy. And anyway, I have good memories with my dad from when I was young too. Just not any recent ones.”

Kurt watched Blaine as he started contemplatively at the giant Rockefeller Christmas tree that was casting multi-coloured light across the rink. Blaine then seemed to remember something funny, because he let out a sudden bright laugh.

“Like when I was eight, I decided that it would be a really great idea to lick this giant icicle outside the house.”

“Oh no I know where this is going” Kurt giggled.

“Yeah, and well it was super cold out and I got my tongue stuck to it really good.”

“Blaine Anderson- putting really big things in his mouth since 199-”

“Oh shut up, or you’re going down on the ice again.” Blaine interrupted before he could finish the joke.

Kurt was having a hard time staying upright on his skates while he cackled at the thought of pint-sized Blaine with his tongue stuck to a giant icicle and he had to grab onto to Blaine to keep from falling over.

“You just love laughing at my expense don’t you? Anyway, I couldn’t yell for help, because my tongue, so I ended up just kind of making this kind of sheep like baa-ing noise and eventually my dad came outside and found me. You know what he did when he saw me? He turned right around and went back in the house. I was so confused, but he came back out a minute later with my mom and the camera. The camera for god’s sake. And the two of them stood there taking pictures and laughing before they detached me.”

Kurt laughed. “Parents are like that. I was the ring bearer at one of my parents friend’s wedding when I was little and I fell in the hotel pool like 5 minutes before the ceremony. They took so many pictures. I thought it was highly unamusing that my outfit had been ruined of course.”

“Yeah, I thought the whole thing was pretty hilarious after my tongue was returned to my control.”

“You have a snowflake on your nose.” Kurt pointed to Blaine’s nose before leaning in and kissing it softly, causing the snowflake to melt into his mouth. He was about to pull away when Blaine yanked him in closer, aligning his lips with Kurt’s.

Kurt couldn’t believe how pleasant it was, kissing when it was so cold. The warmth of their mouths contrasted sharply with the bitterly cold air and his cold cheeks were instantly warmed by the close proximity. Blaine’s mouth tasted like mint and he could feel the tiny snowflakes falling onto their shoulders.

“Merry Christmas.” He breathed as Blaine pulled away, clasping their mittened hands together over his heart.

Hours later, they found themselves in a nearly empty subway car headed uptown to Kurt’s apartment.

Blaine was stretched out over several seats with his head in Kurt’s lap. His eyes were closed.

Kurt was perfectly content to watch the steady movement of his chest and twist his curls with his fingers. He would uncurl a strand, and then let it spring back into place, intermittently rubbing his fingers lightly over Blaine’s scalp and making him hum with pleasure.

Content to listen to Blaine’s purrs, Kurt leaned his head back and closed his eyes too. The sway of the subway always rocked him to sleep; the city’s heart beating. One hand tangled in Blaine’s hair and one hand around Blaine’s wrist, he felt his pulse against his fingers and everything felt right.

~*~

“Open it.”

“But it’s only the 23rd” Blaine said.

Kurt frowned at him. “You know I’m leaving for Ohio tomorrow morning. Now open it silly.” Kurt shoved the delicately wrapped box towards Blaine as they sat in the dim light of his apartment.

“Dick in a box?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You’ve been watching too much YouTube.”

Blaine tore the wrapping off the box in a few quick strokes, leaving Kurt’s neat wrapping job in ruins. He opened the lid of the box and excitedly took out the contents.

He pulled out a dark blue sweater and a button down in an olive green.

“Wow Kurt these are really beautiful.”

“Yes well, I thought maybe you were getting a little tired of the Roger Davis look.” Kurt says pointedly looking at Blaine’s faded shirt.

Blaine laughed, “Yes, okay I see your point. The only cues I should take from the characters of Rent are musical ones not fashion related?”

“Yes exactly. For future reference also, those two things are not meant to be worn together. They would clash horribly. But I thought the colours separately would be wonderful with your skin tone.”

“Thank you baby.” Blaine said as wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist and kissing him.

“Wait, wait,” Kurt said pulling away. “There’s one more thing in there.”

Blaine fished his hand into the box and retrieved the last item. It was a thick scarf, cream coloured and knit with wide braids.

Blaine sucked in his breath a little as he ran his fingers over it. It was incredibly soft. He threw it around his neck, relishing the warmth and the smell of Kurt on it.

“How do I look?” he asked, giving Kurt a twirl and a fake model pout.

“Fabulous dah-ling” Kurt drawled.

“Okay, now I have something for you.” Blaine walked over to the small fake tree where Kurt had all his presents for his family ready to go for tomorrow. Blaine produced a small package and handed it to Kurt.

“Hey, how did that get there?” Kurt looked puzzled as he examined the package.

“I wrapped it and put it there when I was helping Rachel with her gifts the other day.”

Blaine felt a nervous lump growing in his throat as Kurt daintily opened the package. He wasn’t sure what he was going to think of Blaine’s Christmas gift to him.

In the box were three different shaped and sized paint brushes, each wrapped in a bit of ribbon that Blaine had tied on himself.

Kurt just stared at them until Blaine spoke, “I um...saw that you had those beautiful paints and that big canvas but no brushes. I thought maybe you would start painting again if you had some. I understand if you don’t want--”

But his nervous explanation was cut off by Kurt jumping into his arms and kissing him.

He broke away moments later, breathless. “You like them?”

“They are beautiful. You are beautiful.” Kurt mumbled into the crook of Blaine’s neck and Blaine felt it send a shiver up his spine.

“I love that...” Kurt paused to catch his breath. “That you care so much about my painting. I told you maybe on our first or second date that it made me happier than anything else, and you’ve never forgotten it. No one has ever given me such a thoughtful gift before.”

“So you’ll use them?” Blaine was grinning now.

“Maybe...” Kurt began as he started to unwrap the scarf from Blaine’s neck. “If we start taking clothes off you instead of putting them on, I might let you pose for me.”

~*~

What seemed like only seconds later, it was morning and Blaine was lying in bed pretending to be asleep. He was watching Kurt, who was sitting across the room on the floor with his new paintbrushes.

Blaine watched with his eyes half open as Kurt held each brush in his hand, running his fingers over the tips and up the handle, turning them in his hands, inspecting each of them. He brought the clean brush to the blank canvas that was sitting propped up against the wall, moving it in long strokes over the surface, twisting his wrists as if he was remembering the movements.

After watching him for a few more minutes, Blaine crawled out of bed and joined him.

“Don’t you have to get going?” he asked Kurt.

“Yeah.” Kurt sighed. “I’m sorry I won’t be here to spend Christmas with you. And that you’re not going home for Christmas.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll have a much better Christmas here than I would with my family. I’m seeing some friends, don’t worry.”

“Okay. Well I better get going. I’ll miss you.” Kurt said, kissing his lips and then the palm of his hand.

Blaine smiled, “You’ll only be gone a week.” However, what he was really thinking was that it would feel like forever.

Blaine walked Kurt downstairs, carrying his bag despite Kurt’s protests that he could do it himself.

The bitter wind stung their faces as Kurt hailed a taxi and Blaine was grateful for the soft scarf wrapped snugly around his neck; the scarf that smelled like Kurt.

After embracing for several long moments, Blaine watched as the taxi drove off. Unsure of exactly what to do on Christmas Eve by himself, he wandered down to the park where he knew he would find Ray with his harmonica.

Sure enough, Ray was bundled in a sleeping bag on one of the park benches, and Blaine sat down beside him heavily.

“Where’s your Christmas spirit youngin’?” Ray asked.

“I think it left with Kurt for Ohio.”

“You’re just sad you can’t sleep in his big comfy bed for a week.”

Blaine knew that Ray was joking, but he couldn’t help snapping at him. “That’s not why I’m with him. This isn’t like it was with Nathan. I’m not staying with him so I can have somewhere to live.”

“Hey easy there. I didn’t mean that and you know it.”

Blaine slumped down into the back of the bench. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “I know you didn’t. I just...I’m afraid that’s what he’ll think if...when...he find outs. About this. I mean, I can’t keep up this charade forever. It’s exhausting. Now, I’ve gone and fucking fallen in love with him. Fuck.”

Ray nodded understandingly as he extricated himself from his sleeping bag. “Come on. Good Shepherd’s having a Christmas Eve dinner tonight. Let’s go get some food, see some good people, you’ll feel better.”

Blaine sighed. He really didn’t feel like eating, but he joined Ray anyway, considering he had nowhere else to go.

Blaine managed to enjoy the evening, despite everything. He and Ray sat at a table in the Good Shepherd Center with Crazy Legs McGee, an old man with frizzy hair and wild eyes who made inappropriate jokes throughout the entire meal. Blaine laughed at his insanity but was happy when they were joined by a skinny girl with long straight black hair.

“Cecily! Merry Christmas.”

She half smiled at Blaine through her long fringe of hair and dug into her plate of food.

Blaine had met Cecily last year, right after he had moved out from Nathan’s place. She had been only 17 then, but already experienced at living on the streets. She had shown Blaine the ropes; told him the best places to sleep when it was cold, showed him the places where people were most generous with their pocket change and probably, she had saved his life. Blaine had remembered being wary of her, this young girl who wore too much black eyeliner and had a drug habit. But she had turned out to be reliable, and resourceful; quick and witty. She sort of felt like the little sister Blaine had never had.

“Guess what Cec,” Ray said. Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “Youngin’ here got himself a boyfriend.”

Blaine blushed and poked the food around his plate with his fork.

“Is that so?” Cecily said, suddenly looking interested.

“Um yeah...his name’s Kurt.” Blaine answered, avoiding her gaze.

She had been by far the most outspoken on his relationship with Nathan, telling him that if he wanted to survive on the streets he needed to learn to stand alone, depend on no one.

“You say Kurt and all I see is lederhosen and the lonely goatherd.” Cecily said with a smirk before returning to her grey meatloaf and starchy instant potatoes.

Blaine exhaled. He didn’t want to have to answer questions about Kurt tonight. He didn’t have the answers.

“You letting him push you around B?” Cecily asked.

All eyes at the table went to Blaine.

“No, Cec, he’s not like that. He would never hurt me. He’s amazing and kind and--”

She cut him off. “Yeah well. So was Nathan in the beginning wasn’t he. They’re all the same until they figure out the truth. That you’ve got nothing. Then they realize that they hold all the cards and it’ll go one of two ways, he’ll start to lord his power over you like Nathan-motherfucking-Hill, or he’ll kick you out on your ass like a piece of trash.”

She flipped her hair angrily, stabbing at the meatloaf on her plate with fervour.

Blaine shivered involuntarily. Was she right? Could Kurt turn into another Nathan? He didn’t think so, but then again, Cecily had seen more than he had.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, other than the occasional giggle from Crazy Legs and the sounds of Cecily attacking her food as if it had personally wronged her.

Cecily dumped her plate in the garbage first and then got up to leave. Blaine jumped up and caught up to her at the shelter entrance.

“Cec, wait. It’s Christmas, I don’t want you to leave angry.”

She sighed and turned to Blaine, rubbing at the dark makeup on her sunken eyes.

“I’m sorry okay B? I’m sure your guy is a real prince but...I don’t want to see you get hurt again. And the longer you wait to tell him, who you are...” she struggled with her words. “The harder it’s going to be for him to deal with.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” Blaine whispered to her.

“Yes you can. You’re strong B. Stronger than you were a year ago. By a lot.”

Blaine smiled weakly at her, wanting to believe it was true.

“Besides, if he takes it poorly, just give me his address and I’ll kick his sweet little ass all the way back to Austria 1945, where he belongs. Let Captain Von Trapp deal with him.”

Blaine snorted. “I love you.” He said pulling her into a tight hug.

“Alright, alright, I gotta get out here before it starts snowing too hard. It was nice spending Christmas Eve with you B.”

Blaine watched her walk out the door, feeling just a little bit more in control of his situation with Kurt.

Those feelings vanished when the next person walked through the door.

Nathan.

Blaine instinctively took a step back, feeling trapped. Nathan was, after all, standing in front of the only exit. He tried to speak, but his voice seemed to have disappeared entirely.

“Blaine-” Nathan said carefully, holding up his hands in surrender. “Listen, I just want to talk to you.”

Blaine could feel himself shaking his head no. He thought about calling out for help, but once again his vocal chords failed him.

“I knew you’d be here and I just wanted to say some things to you, that’s all.”

Blaine’s brain went instantly to the fact that Nathan knew where he stayed. He had to get out, he had to run, and never come back.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Blaine finally choked out, trying to find the strength that Cecily believed he had.

He was sweating now, despite the low temperature and he could feel the spot on his hip aching where Nathan had shattered his pelvis.

“I know, just listen to me, I want to apologize.” Nathan took a few steps forward, arms outstretched towards Blaine.

It was the wrong thing to do.

Blaine’s flight instinct took over and he summoned all the willpower he had to force his body to move towards Nathan in order to get by him and out the doors.

“Wait! Please! Come back. Blaine goddammit!”

He could hear Nathan yelling as he sprinted out into the snow, following the only coherent thought in his head:

Get away, never come back

He ran until he was in the heart of downtown, attracting some strange looks from passerbys on his way. He rented a small storage locker, no bigger than a closet under the stairs downtown where he kept the few things he owned. It was all he could afford, but his few possessions were worth protecting.

His guitar, a small backpack and a ratty old sleeping bag.
The contents of his entire life. He spun the combination with shaky hands, emptying the locker. With his guitar on his back and bag in hand, he headed to the park.

Once there, his head was still spinning from the close encounter. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. All he knew was that he could never go back there, where Nathan could find him. He needed to stay out here.

So he unfurled his sleeping back and curled himself up in a dark corner. He was cold. Incredibly cold. His set his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering and pulled his scarf closer around his neck. Inhaling, he smelled Kurt and that morning suddenly felt a thousand years away.

He laughed harshly into the quiet night air. It all seemed so silly now. Trying to make Kurt happy, trying to live a normal life. He couldn’t be a part of Kurt’s life, it was impossible. Kurt was perfect and he was a mess. A street rat, a dog, garbage. He shouldn’t have ever tried to escape that. This was his life. One old sleeping bag, a backpack, a guitar.

He knew that this was his life. He only wished that he could feel his fingers, and that maybe he could stop shaking long enough to sleep.

What he didn’t know was that New York was about to experience it’s coldest week in 50 years.