Chapter 21

Blaine wouldn’t have suspected going to the Warblers’ theoretical rivals’ sectionals could be quite as stressful. Kurt had told him what the New Directions’ setlist was and as soon as he heard the first of their songs performed by another show choir, his pulse started racing as fast as if he was the one whose Glee club was in deep, deep trouble.

Understandably, the atmosphere in the New Directions’ dressing room was much more heated, just as Finn appeared, practically saving them all. Kurt texted Blaine regular updates on the situation, as their entry on stage drew close.

And when the trophy was finally in Mr Schuester’s hands, Blaine was the one to cheer the loudest in the audience. Kurt might not have had a solo, but it didn’t matter; his face was still beaming more than ever as he caught a glimpse of his best friend standing up, clapping his hands and whistling.

Burt regretted he couldn’t see his son perform, but his convalescence still kept him at home, under the tender care of Carole Hudson.

The following weeks passed in a similar pattern. Both Kurt and Blaine attended their respective schools, practiced with their Glee clubs – the New Directions reinvigorated by their win at sectionals – and travelled between Lima and Westerville as often as was possible to spend an afternoon on chatting, giggling or watching a movie. They had prepared a vast list of movies to see (or see again), and crossed out as many as they added along the way.

It seemed with every passing day that if there were any reservedness left between them, it was dwindling into nothing. Kurt would allow Blaine to see him before his morning skin routine and with his hair ruffled, while Blaine wasn’t bother by Kurt witnessing his broccoli hair. When they were having sleepovers – ones that made Burt slightly uncomfortable, and of which the Andersons were barely aware – they didn’t even feel ashamed of their morning boners.

While at home, Kurt would let himself eat like a pig, matching his manners to Blaine’s. Sometimes they would cook together or bake chocolate chip cookies, which Blaine could never get enough of.

Soon enough Burt started treating Blaine as a sort of adopted son, seeing him much more often than his potential stepson. During his recovery, he was spending even more time than he already had after Kurt’s escape from home with Carole. The first couple of family dinners Carole was invited to were incredibly uncomfortable, even though Finn had excused himself, claiming Rachel was making him practice for Glee club – of which they all knew Rachel was quite capable. It seemed though with every next meeting, that Kurt’s initial resentment towards Carole was gradually ceasing. For the first time in years he saw his father laugh with every feature of his face, and it was while looking at Carole. That couldn’t be ignored. Burt deserved to be happy, even if that meant a little uneasiness on Kurt’s part. And he concluded he owed that to his father.

It also soon became clear that Carole was a gentle, sweet woman, and Kurt couldn’t deny his father’s recovery wouldn’t probably go so smoothly without her. She helped them out as much as she could, even when she had to endure Kurt’s annoyed looks or remarks. She would just smile sadly and go back to preparing dinner for them or tea for Burt. Getting Burt to drink green tea was a miracle that definitely served to her advantage in Kurt’s eyes.

December was flying by at a rapid pace, each of the dark, short, snow-covered days passing as if in a blur, long evenings spent on comfy couches in front of plasma TVs, hours of driving to and fro between Lima and Westerville accompanied by collections of Broadway classics or top forty hits sung along to at the top of Kurt’s or Blaine’s lungs.

A week before Christmas Kurt and Blaine settled cosily on the Andersons’ living room sofa, Love, Actually playing on the DVD, even though both boys could have recited the movie from memory. They decided it was the best choice when it came to getting into the holiday spirit, after discarding Home Alone, its sequel and Grinch. Apart from the movie on the large TV set, nothing in the Anderson household could let on that Christmas was just around the corner.

‘Blaine?,’ Kurt asked, breaking the silence between them halfway through the movie.

‘Hm?’ Blaine kept his eyes fixed on Hugh Grant.

‘Do you- Do you know what you’re doing for Christmas this year?’ Bringing up the Thanksgiving fiasco probably wasn’t the best idea, but the question of another attempt of familial holiday cheer at the Andersons’ had been so far left unanswered.

Truth be told, Blaine had asked his parents whether he could count on them being home, but when the answer was a hesitant embarrassed no, I’m afraid not, he wouldn’t press. Even waking a feeling of guilt in his mother didn’t help with their relationship in the long run. She would occasionally call his cell phone, asking where he was and when he was coming home, she would sometimes listen to him when he was telling her something about Dalton or the Warblers, but nothing of the underlying causes changed. Their contacts remained purely superficial, her efforts nothing more than an attempt at soothing her disturbed conscience.

But Blaine was growing indifferent about it. He was starting to feel like he really had a family. Not a real one, not a mother and a father, but a quasi-family, people that he cared about and who cared about him, and he was now sure this was how family should be defined. Blood ties were nothing to him.

‘Um-,’ Blaine started, but faltered; what he truly wanted to do is ask Kurt if he could come to the Hummels’ for Christmas dinner. The prospect of spending the holidays alone in the cold house, probably even without a tree or Christmas lights, was just as appealing as the prospect of hiking through the Antarctic in the middle of winter. ‘There’s definitely not going to be an Anderson Christmas dinner for me to attend. So I don’t really know.’ There could be no more boundaries left between them, but Blaine still would feel awkward, if he asked Kurt bluntly to invite him over. It wasn’t just any dinner – a couple of those he had already been to at his friend’s house – it was Christmas. And you just don’t crash somebody else’s family gatherings, no matter how close you might be.

‘So you’re coming over to mine,’ Kurt said, his gaze returning to the screen, just as Blaine’s turned to him.

‘You’re kidding, right? That’s not cool.’

Kurt faced Blaine one more time, carefully rolling his eyes, just to make sure his friend saw it.

‘You. Are. Coming. To. My. House. For. Christmas. Dinner. End. Of. Story.’ Every single of Kurt’s words was clearly and loudly pronounced. ‘Capiche?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’ Blaine frowned. ‘Are you sure your dad’s not going to be mad if I barge in in the middle of the holidays? He’s probably tired of my face already.’

‘Blaine, you have to stop thinking that you annoy people. Do you think my Dad would’ve let you stay the night last weekend, in my bedroom, with the door closed, if he didn’t like you?’ Kurt stopped, waiting for Blaine to respond, so he shook his head. ‘And actually, he was the one who suggested to invite you.’

This time, Blaine’s eyebrows shot up to the middle of his forehead. That wasn’t something he had expected. Not even something he would have considered.

‘Seriously?’

Kurt shrugged his shoulders. ‘I was telling him about your Thanksgiving,’ he winced apologetically at Blaine. ‘You know, about your parents being constantly at work, and all that. I didn’t even have to mention that I wanted to have to over. He was all like “So we have to get the kid to come to ours for Christmas dinner”.’

‘So you really want me to come?,’ Blaine asked again, just to be absolutely sure he wouldn’t be a bother.

‘Sure, dummy.’ Kurt shifted in his seat to grab a bowl of potato chips from the coffee table. ‘Now, movie. Shush already.’

Somehow, all of the sudden, all the Christmas cheesiness in the movie became much more appealing to Blaine and he smiled to himself. He couldn’t recall when was the last time he was this happy for Christmas. Must have been when he still believed in Santa.