During their second breakfast the chores had been divided; Finn and Sam were in charge of shoveling the snow on the stairs, entrance and sidewalk as well as salting it, Nick and Jeff had laundry duty for the boys ('We clean clothings at Dalton for dorm mates! Is no problem!), Mercedes and Quinn did the laundry for the girls ('Kurt would kill the person who try to touch his clothes if that person not me and Quinn can do what she is talked'), and Wes, David, Santana and Rachel had divided the house into four sections which they would clean. Which left Kurt and Blaine in charge of cooking duty.

“The other um, ragazzi, they no cook. Fire and breaked thingses happen.”

Blaine had looked so bashful, Kurt couldn't help but nod dumbly and accept his help in the kitchen. After all, even he couldn't cook for over a dozen people on a regular basis.

“You cook then?”

“Hm? Yes, yes, my um, zio -father brother?- he own caf�. I do jobs there, cook, sing, bring foods to persons... So, I am not terrible at cooking.”

“Good. I am happy for your helping.”

And so it was. Mr. Schuester made sure the pantries were always stocked, and that the kids were doing alright, but for the first time in his life Kurt got a taste of what life away from the strict supervision of a parent or even a parental figure, and he had to say he was pretty glad for it.

Another thing he was glad for of course was preparing two meals a day with the ever-dreamy Blaine Anderson.

He'd quickly learned that while Blaine didn't know many of the recipes Kurt did, he was eager and a fast-learner. Kurt tried desperately not to imagine if that attitude translated to things other than cooking, often failing and letting things almost burn as he was lost in his shamefully lascivious reveries. Only the embarrassment of having Blaine himself interrupt his fantasizing kept Kurt from completely ruining the friendship they were slowly building, and although Kurt still felt suffocated by the sexual frustration at times, after two weeks of living together, cooking together, and studying together, Kurt had managed to lose some of his nervousness around Blaine and the pair had actually fallen into a comfortable friendship.

One that was rife with sexual tension, according to most of his friends, but a friendship nonetheless.

The problem was that while Kurt could admit to feeling sexually charged moments between him and Blaine, Kurt couldn't be sure that Blaine felt the same way. Two weeks of getting to know each other, and making small talk and practicing their English together and the subject of Blaine's sexual orientation hadn't come up once, which had Kurt wondering if Blaine was being quiet about it on purpose.

Is it that he thinks it's obvious that he's straight and doesn't think it worthy to confirm? Or is it that he's gay but he doesn't want to say because he's just not into me? God, I just wish 'I like dick' or 'I like pussy' was just tattooed on his forehead or something.

In any case, Kurt decided to follow Blaine's intentional or unintentional lead and they steered clear of the subject of potential homosexuality.

Although they did talk a lot about Vogue, which Santana said was pretty much the same thing.

That morning Kurt was fully prepared to continue last night's hot debate over Gaga's prediction that mint would be very big next season, finally managing to remember what designer had also said as much, and finally proving Blaine wrong ('Mint, Kurt? Is a horrible colour on any peoples that is not Gaga') but when he got down to the kitchen, Blaine was nowhere to be found.

Blaine always showered at night so by the time Kurt exited the bathroom (showered, clothed and groomed to perfection) every morning and made his way to the kitchen, Blaine could always be trusted to be waiting on one of the stools at the island, coffee in hand for him and for Kurt.

Kurt's heart still fluttered at the memory of Blaine asking him how he took his coffee on their first day of kitchen duty and dutifully preparing it for him every day since. It never failed to put a blush and a stupid grin on his face, which Kurt felt was less and less stupid whenever Blaine smiled back at him just as big.

Just when Kurt was about to turn around and go up the stairs to look for him he heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs at break-neck speed.

Must have slept in late without me noticing it.

“Buon giorno, buon giorno! I'm here, sorry! Il mio allarme non ha funzionato! My alarm, not work!”

“Didn't work, right?”

“Si, si, didn't work,” Blaine said with a crooked smile that did things to Kurt. As usual.

“Do you want some coffee, Blaine?” Kurt asked, slowly and carefully forming the sentence.

“Yes, thank you, Kurt. I would like some coffee.”

“Tr�s bien,” Kurt answered, already preparing the coffee machine for their usual drip for Blaine and a caf� au lait for him as a stand in for his beloved non-fat mochas.

“Thank you! I knew it was good idea to practice until the late night.”

Kurt shot Blaine back a smile as he puttered around, making their coffees and preparing what would be their breakfast. It was Monday, so oatmeal it was.

“Alors, um, so--”

“Giusto.”

“-- you are prepared for the quiz today?”

“It is on conversational phrases only, yes?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“It is not on the travel yet?”

“No, we are learning that this week yet.”

“Is yet or still?”

“Hmm...aucune id�e.”

“Hmm.”

Kurt and Blaine stared at each other for a moment longer, Blaine's brow still slightly furrowed in thought and Kurt's shoulders still lightly raised from his shrug, but both with soft smiles on their faces. Kurt's stomach couldn't help but swoop as Blaine's eyes did that-that smoulder thing that Kurt didn't think Blaine was aware he did but never failed to set Kurt's heart racing.

“I really like practicing with you, Kurt.”

Blaine just kept smiling at Kurt, chin resting on his palm as he sat at the island facing Kurt, who was trying to remain standing as his legs turned to jelly. After a beat he managed to stammer out a response.

“I-I like practicing with you too, Blaine.”

Kurt couldn't help but imagine the conversation being slightly different, like Blaine telling him that he liked him and not just practicing with him. Or like Blaine confessing his love for him. Or Blaine asking Kurt to marry him.

Kurt sighed longingly.

Another beat of Blaine's smiling face messing with Kurt's heart rate passed before he was brought back to reality as the coffee machine beeped that it was done. Kurt startled out of his Blaine-trance and turned quickly to the coffee in a sorry attempt to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. He took the two mugs that had been designated as Blaine's and his (they were some cheap white dollar store ones that Schuester had gotten for every one and that Kurt had written everybody's name on with ceramic marker), and started pouring. He filled his only about two thirds of the way and filled the rest with milk, then filled Blaine's to the top, adding a heaping spoonful of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon to it. He turned back and set Blaine's cup in front of him before grabbing his own and settling down across from him, only to find Blaine staring at him with a wide-eyed and awed expression.

“This coffee is what I like it.”

“...yes?” Kurt tilted his head to the side, confused as to what Blane was getting at.

“But I never tell you how I like my coffee.”

“I see you make yours a few times,” Kurt answered, shaking his head slightly and looking down at his notes on the table, thinking he should probably take a page out of Blaine's book and squeeze in some study time before their big quiz that morning, therefore missing the rather obvious smitten look Blaine was sending him. When Kurt looked up again Blaine was holding the mug in both hands to his smiling lips and sipping from it as he stared off dreamily into the distance.

Kurt wondered what put Blaine in such a good mood before simply smiling in turn, happy that Blaine was happy at all.

After all he had caught Blaine a few times glancing at his cell phone when he thought his friends weren't looking, or looking slightly depressed as he played some simple chord progressions on his guitar on what had become their window sill, and there wasn't anything that Kurt despised more than seeing the usually joyous Blaine looking so down in the dumps. Every smile, no matter their reason, was cause for a small celebration deep inside Kurt's heart.

“So, would you like to practice more as we cook breakfast? I know the greetings but I forget some of the introductions questions.”

Blaine shot him a large smile before launching into their oft repeated, pre-written conversations.

“Hello, I'm Blaine.” Blaine stood from his spot and started washing his empty mug at the sink.

“Nice to meet you Blaine, my name is Kurt.” Kurt watched Blaine, finishing his own coffee.

“Pleasure to meet you, Kurt. This is my mother, Maria. This is my father, Antonio. And this is my friend, Thad.” Blaine rinsed the cup before grabbing the sponge by the faucet.

“Nice to meet you all. This is my father, Burt, my step-mother Carole and my step-brother, Finn.” Kurt swirled the final swallow of coffee, trying to dilute the remaining sugar at the bottom of the glass.

“It is good to meet you all. Where are you from, Kurt?” Blaine rinsed out the soap bubbles.

“I am French. I come from France.” Kurt swallowed the last gulp, wincing a little at the sweetness before making his way to the sink too.

“Really? What city are you from?” Blaine put the now clean mug in the drying rack and grabbed Kurt's right out of his hands, ignoring Kurt's protests.

“I come from Normandy. Where do you come from, Blaine?” Kurt stopped trying to wrestle his mug from Blaine for fear of breaking it and decided to let Blaine wash the damn thing if he wanted to so badly.

“I am Italian, I come from Italy.” Blaine smiled triumphantly at Kurt as he gently washed Kurt's coffee mug.

“What part of Italy do you come from, Blaine?” Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine and waited for Blaine to say his reply, although he already knew it from the past week and a half of studying with the boy.

“I come from Milan.” Blaine finished washing the mug and put it in the drying rack alongside his own.

“What brings you to Washington, Blaine?” Kurt handed Blaine a hand towel for him to dry his hands with, knowing that otherwise he would simply dry his hands on his shirt.

“I am studying abroad. Why are you at Washington?” Blaine dried his hands and shot Kurt a grateful smile.

“In Washington, Blaine.” Kurt corrected, turning on the stove for the oatmeal.

“Merda! Sempre lo stesso errore. Why are you in Washington, Kurt?” Blaine took out the large pot and filled it with water.

“I am also studying abroad.” Kurt added the salt to the water and then turned to Blaine as they waited for the water to boil.

“Fortunato di me.” Blaine smiled at Kurt, who didn't understand what Blaine had just said but smiled back benignly anyway.

One of their typical comfortable-although-rather-tense-too moments passed between them before Kurt pushed himself off of the counter he was leaning against and went to grab the bag of oats in the pantry.

“Well, Blaine, I think you are pass the quiz,” Kurt said with a tug of the lips.

“Thank you, I think the same is for you.”

The rest of breakfast was cooked in companionable silence.

XXXXXXX

“Oh dio, sono stato bocciato all'esame, sicuro!” Oh my God, I failed that test for sure!

“Dovresti avere studiato, David.” You should have studied, David.

“Si, beh, non possiamo tutti avere un compagno di studio con il quale siamo completamente innamorato, eh?” Yeah, well, we can't all have study buddies we're completely in love with, can we?

“Non mi degno di risponderti.” I'm not even dignifying that with a response.

“Blaine!”

Kurt's voice rang out in the hallway as we half-ran towards Blaine, who of course stopped and turned towards the French boy with a giant grin on his face.

“Kurt! You did good on the test?”

“Yes! All the practicing was good. You?”

“Mmhm, me too.”

“That is good then.”

“Yes, very good.”

David looked on as the two stared into each other's eyes and forgot the world around them.

“Oh Dio, voi ragazzi mi fanno venire voglia di vomitare. Dirgli che vuoi avere i suoi bambini gi� e mette fine alla nostra soffrenze.” Oh God, you guys make me wanna puke. Tell him you wanna have his babies and put us all out of our misery already.

“Vaffanculo, David.” Fuck off, David, Blaine replied, not taking his eyes off of Kurt or stopping his smile still.

“Vabba.” Whatever.

David walked on to lunch, jogging to catch up to Nick and Jeff to probably complain some more about him and Kurt, but Blaine couldn't care less.

“So, we did not talk much during breakfast and cooking. How are you Kurt?”

Blaine and Kurt walked alongside one another on their way to lunch as they usually did. They always ate with the rest of the group however, so Blaine wasn't convinced that their time together at lunch meant as much to Kurt as it did to him.

“I am good. Well, also a little sad I suppose. It is almost Christmas, is my first without my father.”

Blaine's heart almost broke at the downcast expression on Kurt's face. Although he couldn't say he lamented being away from his father for the holidays like Kurt obviously did, he understood the sentiment anyway.

“I am sorry Kurt. Must be hard, know you are close to the your father.”

Blaine shot him his most earnest look, knowing he had probably botched that sentence beyond all recognition but wanting to get the message across anyway he could. He was rewarded when Kurt short him a small smile and a beautifully bashful look from beneath his lashes.

“It's okay. At least I have you.”

XXXXXXX

Christmas Eve came with incredible speed, and although Blaine and his friends had all done wonders in keeping Kurt's mood up, he couldn't stop the sudden melancholy that came over him after they had Christmas supper, which Mercedes, Rachel and Quinn helped Kurt and Blaine cook. Although the preparations and the dinner itself had been a lively and multilingual affair, the aftermath was a quiet friendly lounging in the living room as some people did their holiday reading, some played video games and some sang Christmas songs, in French, Italian and English. Kurt chose to sit on his and Blaine's preferred window seat, English book in hand, although he hadn't turned the page in about half an hour, gazing instead towards the large Christmas tree they had all decorated the week before. Suddenly, a familiar figure stepped into view and Kurt lifted his gaze to Blaine's concerned looking face. Kurt offered him a small smile that was meant to reassure him, although his attempts at joviality must have been something dreadful because Blaine looked even more concerned than before.

“You are still feeling a little sad, Kurt?”

Kurt wore a genuine smile at the kicked puppy look Blaine had on his face at the thought of Kurt being sad. If nothing else, Blaine was a wonderfully empathic friend.

“Just a little blue. I'm sorry, I don't want to ruin your spirit.”

Blaine smiled a little back.

“You could never. Ah! I know what make you feel better! Wait here!”

Blaine stuck his hands out miming Kurt staying put (as though I'd move) before running towards the tree and rifling through the presents underneath it, grabbing a medium sized flat-ish package wrapped in a rather alarming shade of hot pink, then making his way back to Kurt.

“Christmas paper is too...clich�? Thought this is funner! Open it!”

Kurt reached out and grabbed the gift from Blaine with trembling hands. He couldn't quite believe that Blaine had gotten him a Christmas present.

Blaine looked on at him with all the excitement of a five year old at Christmas, eyes wide and bright as Kurt carefully unwrapped his present.

Once the wrapper came free from the tape Kurt lifted the lid of the box underneath it to find a selection of music books staring back at him.

“It's sheet music!” said Blaine redundantly. “Rachel told me you sing and play the piano and I thought it would be nice to hear you and to sing with you too. The first book is Christmas songs the second is Broadway songs, the third is duet songs and the last is pop songs. Is it ok?”

Blaine sounded slightly worried and Kurt was sure he'd have his adorable puppy dog look on his face if he lifted his gaze towards him, but at the moment Kurt was focusing all of his energy into not crying.

“Kurt? Is it okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mea--”

Blaine was cut off by Kurt's arms being thrown around his neck and grabbing on tightly. Blaine automatically wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and back, holding the boy who was kneeling on the window seat and holding Blaine together as he was ready to explode from the happiness of the moment. After a few seconds, Kurt pulled back and looked Blaine in the eyes, and Blaine could finally see the shining eyes, the radiant smile and the happiness pouring out from Kurt.

“Thank you Blaine. It is the best Christmas present ever. I would love nothing better than to sing with you”.

Blaine could do nothing but smile back and try to breathe.

“Now you wait here, I will get your gift.”

Kurt rose gracefully from the seat and made sure the books were carefully sitting atop his spot before fetching his gift to Blaine from under to tree and swiftly returning to him.

“Here.” Kurt handed Blaine the large-ish box and began rambling as Blaine furiously undid the complicated bow that held it shut. “It is probably not as good as your gift, but I think since you are always cold, you maybe like it--”

“Kurt.”

The awed tone with which Blaine spoke his name shut Kurt up, and he was left silently watching as Blaine pulled out a pair of fur-trimmed leather gloves just like Kurt's and the long burgundy scarf Kurt had been crocheting since the plane ride over to America.

“Like I say, I know your hands are always cold and I chrocheted the scarf for me at first but then I thought it would look a lot, much better on you and so--”

And then Kurt was cut off by Blaine's lips on his.