All of Kurt and Blaine’s children could sing. They’d made sure of that, as much as it can be affected by matters other than biology. Mozart at bedtime. Infant music and movement classes from six months of age. Constantly breaking out into pop songs at home, much to their children’s embarrassment as they grew older. Piano and voice lessons for all of them, and at least one other instrument each. They weren’t pushy stage parents, not at all, but music was important in their household.

So all of them could sing. But it was Asher who truly sounded like an angel.

Their hearts fluttered as his voice rang out on the opening notes at the Christmas concert. It was a secular children’s choir, but like any choir worth its salt, they sang religious carols at Christmas time and performed in churches. Kurt always cringed a little to hear his son singing about ‘Christ the Savior’ and ‘the Son of God,’ but the songs were so beautiful it hardly mattered what the lyrics were. Truthfully, he’d rather hear a thousand rehearsals of Silent Night than Jingle Bells.

The audience sat, transfixed, as Asher sang his solo before being joined by the rest of the choir. It was the most gorgeous sound Kurt had ever heard.

Blaine leaned toward him and said, just loud enough to be heard over the applause, “Do you think he’s old enough to record a solo album?”

Kurt nodded. “Let’s work on a Christmas album for next year.”