The holiday season rolled into New York in a blur of tests, term papers and final exams. By early December, everybody was so consumed with end-of-semester work that they barely seemed to remember that Christmas was a mere two weeks away.

Even Kurt was too busy to get into the holiday spirit – despite Blaine’s best attempts to nudge him along by playing Christmas music on the rare occasions they were both in their room together. “I’ve never had so much work to do in my life,” Kurt had groaned one night as he crawled into bed. Since Thanksgiving break, he’d spent nearly every free moment holed up in the library or their room, cranking out paper after paper, stopping only for food or coffee.

Blaine, on the other hand, knew it was Christmastime. He’d been whipping up candy cane mochas and gingersnap lattes at work since mid-November. Plus, he’d been counting down to a very important date in December for nearly two months now.

Blaine had thought long and hard during endless shifts at Mo’ Joe about what he wanted to get Kurt for Christmas. It had to be something special, something he’d never forget; although Blaine recognized that no gift could properly thank him for how wonderful – how patient, understanding, selfless – he’d been all semester. Kurt had done everything in his power to take care of Blaine; now Blaine couldn’t wait for the opportunity to give back.

When the day finally arrived, Blaine was bouncing with barely concealed excitement all morning long. He put his plan into action around noon; grinning as he stepped into the back room of the coffee shop to shoot Kurt a quick, casual text.

“Wanna go see the Christmas tree w me tonight?”

Blaine prayed Kurt would take the bait. Kurt had loudly, and repeatedly, mourned the fact that they hadn’t visited Rockefeller Center since the famous Christmas tree was lit. They’d agreed they probably wouldn’t have a chance to go until finals ended next Thursday – Blaine knowing all the while what his plans were for tonight.

His phone buzzed with a response almost immediately. “Tonight? But you work on Wednesdays.”

“I had to switch w somebody.” Only the had to was a lie, really. “I get off at 4:30.”

Blaine nervously tapped his foot as he waited for a reply. He could picture Kurt at his desk, methodically running through his to-do list to make sure he could spare a few hours away from his homework.

Thankfully, Kurt’s excitement overruled his practicality. “ok. But I can’t do anything else for the rest of the weekend. So stressed.”

“Deal. Meet me outside the bldg at 5?” Just as Blaine hit send, another thought struck him. He quickly composed a second message. “Wear that jacket I like. The gray one w the big buttons.” He risked giving away the surprise, but Blaine knew Kurt would be pissed if he wasn’t dressed properly.

Blaine smirked when he read Kurt’s text back. “Why am I suddenly suspicious of your motives?”

“Don’t know what ur talking about. gtg. See u at 5  < 3 ”

***

At five o’clock on the nose, Kurt stepped out of their building into the cold New York dusk. Surprise registered on his face when he saw Blaine was already out on the sidewalk: casually leaning against the side of a cab, one ankle crossed over the other, staring at Kurt like he was the only thing in the world.

Blaine could see a smile tugging at the corner of Kurt’s mouth as he got close. “You look utterly dashing,” Kurt said, conspicuously eyeing Blaine up and down.

“You look beautiful as ever.” Blaine snaked an arm around Kurt’s waist, pulling him close for a brief, but passionate kiss.

When they parted, Kurt gestured to the cab, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “No subway?” They hadn’t been in a cab since their first week in New York: Blaine because he was still trying to save every penny, Kurt because he wanted to explore his new city inside and out – and the exercise didn’t hurt, either.

Blaine opened the back door of the cab and gestured for Kurt to get in. “Only the best for you.”

Kurt shot him another look as he sat down inside. “Cabs, special wardrobe requests? I’m on to you, Anderson.”

Blaine leaned into the car door, giving Kurt a sly, teasing smirk. “I guarantee that you’re not.”

Blaine circled around to the other side of the car and got in, sliding his hand across the bench seat to grab hold of Kurt’s as the cab took off. Kurt scooted himself over to the middle, curling into Blaine’s body and nuzzling the soft, red plaid scarf around his neck.

“You smell like coffee,” Kurt sighed on a deep exhale. “I always think of you when I smell coffee, no matter where I am.”

Blaine felt his heart swell with an emotion he couldn’t quite describe: something warm, happy and all consuming. “Maybe I should quit this whole college thing and just be a barista, then.”

“Don’t you dare rob the world of your talent.” Kurt laid his cheek on Blaine’s shoulder, watching bright streaks of light whiz by outside the window.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m excited to go back home for a while. I miss my family so much.” As soon as he said it, Kurt whipped his head up, his eyes huge and apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he rushed out, putting some space between them. “I didn’t mean to –”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Blaine cut him off, bringing his hand up to kiss Kurt’s knuckles. “Don’t you ever apologize for that.”

Kurt searched his face, looking for any signs of tension. “Are you going to be okay at home?” he asked tentatively. “I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t know,” Blaine sighed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen if I go back there.”

When his mother had contacted him again about booking him a flight home – this time for his and Kurt’s two-week winter break – Blaine had asked her pointedly whether he was welcome back. Her response struck the same motherly, optimistic tone he was used to hearing.

“Of course, sweetheart. This is your home.”

Her words did nothing to alleviate Blaine’s renewed anxiety. He did want to go home: he missed her, he missed Bridget, and – if he was being honest with himself – he even missed his father. But in the nearly four months since he left home, Blaine hadn’t heard a word from his father: not a phone call, not an email – nothing to indicate he was sorry or regretful about what happened.

When Blaine mentioned this to his mother, her reply – tacked on to the itinerary for the flight home she’d scheduled for him – was less than sympathetic.

“You haven’t tried to contact him either, Blaine. My two men – both so stubborn. I can’t wait for you to come home, sweetheart.”

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand, bringing him back to reality. “Why don’t you come home with me? Stay with my family.”

Blaine automatically opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt wouldn’t let him speak. “Blaine, come on. There’s no way I’m going to let you be miserable at Christmas. You don’t need to spend your holiday with someone who’s going to judge you and make you feel guilty. Or worse, get into another argument with you. You don’t have to accept it.”

Kurt was looking at him with a bright, fierce gaze, as if nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. They weren’t in the back of a cab, speeding and weaving along the streets of Manhattan; it was just the two of them, doing everything in their power to show the other his unconditional love and support.

Maybe that was the indescribable emotion Blaine felt before. All he knew is that he wanted to live in this feeling forever. More importantly, he sensed that he could, and he would. They would, together.

“You are so amazing,” was all Blaine could manage to say. He pulled on Kurt’s hand, bringing him in for a slow, stirring kiss. Their lips lingered together: warm, wet, with the unmistakable taste of passion burning around the edges.

“You’re pretty amazing, too,” Kurt murmured when they finally pulled apart. “That’s why I want you around.”

“You have no idea just how amazing I am,” Blaine said with a wink as the cab slowed to a stop at their destination. He was more excited than ever to give Kurt his surprise.

***

The sky was already inky black with night, but the scene at Rockefeller Center was bright as day. Dozens of people – mostly families with children – glided and tottered in an endless loop on the ice skating rink, flanked by hundreds of gold and silver flags rippling in the cold December wind. Warm light bounced off the buildings all around them, encasing them in a magical, urban Christmas fantasy. At the center of it all was the huge, grand Christmas tree, awash in color and sparkling light.

“Was this worth taking a few hours away from your philosophy paper?” Blaine asked, his smile smug and knowing.

Kurt hummed his approval; too taken by the sight in front of him to come up with a sarcastic remark about Hobbes and Locke. “Sometimes it hits me all over again that we’re actually here. It doesn’t feel real right now.”

“It’s real,” Blaine affirmed, wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind. They stood there together for several minutes, absorbing the action and beauty around them while they listened to each other breathe. Kurt made Blaine play a game he made up on the spot: guessing where the tourists hailed from based on their clothing and accents, audible as they shouted to each other in the crowd.

“Where do you think they’re from?” Kurt asked, pointing toward a family in big, puffy coats, smiling for a stranger they’d happily handed their camera off to for a group shot.

“Probably nowhere where I can do this…” Blaine started placing little kisses on a tiny spot of skin below Kurt’s ear, left uncovered by his scarf.

“Blaine!” Kurt laughed, lifting his shoulder to his ear to escape the ticklish, albeit lovely, sensation.

Suddenly, Blaine pulled away. Even though they were wearing layers of outerwear, Kurt still whined at the loss of contact, turning halfway to shoot Blaine a questioning look.

“So, there’s a reason I wanted to bring you here tonight,” Blaine said, trying to keep his grin under control. He took one of Kurt’s hands in his, turning him around completely so they were face to face. “I have your Christmas present.”

Kurt furrowed his brow. “You didn’t need to get me anything, Blaine. You’re working so hard.”

Blaine shrugged as he reached into his coat pocket with his free hand. “Well, I wanted to. You deserve it, and it’s something special for our first Christmas in New York.”

He pulled out a plain white envelope and handed it to Kurt. “I saved all semester for this, but it was so worth it, because I know you’re going to love it. I can’t wait to see your face when you open it.”

“Now I’m afraid I’m going to have to put on my show face, or else you’ll be disappointed,” Kurt quipped, gingerly accepting the gift. With one last wary glance, Kurt opened the envelope.

His eyes grew huge when he peeked at its contents. “The Rockettes Christmas show! Tonight!”

Blaine let his grin loose when Kurt jumped up and down three times, his wide blue eyes shining with delight. “That’s quite the show face,” he teased. “Remind me again why you’re not in theater with me?”

“Shut up!” Kurt threw his arms around Blaine, the force pushing him back a few steps. They clutched each other tightly; their bright, happy laughs skipping through the cold, glittering air. “I mean, thank you!” he exclaimed before kissing Blaine unabashedly on the lips.

Blaine had a fleeting thought that they were probably putting on quite the show, kissing in the middle of a crowd at Rockefeller Center, decorated in all its glory for Christmas. He felt like he was in a movie; certainly not his life. No, it doesn’t feel real sometimes, does it?

“No, Kurt. Thank you. For everything.” Blaine pulled himself from Kurt’s grasp, taking both of Kurt’s hands in his own and holding them as tightly as he could manage. “You’ve sacrificed so much for me this semester, and I know it.”

“It’s not a sacrifice, Blaine.” Kurt shook his head. “Never. I love you.”

“Still. You always looked out for me, made sure I was taken care of.” Blaine smiled in wonder as the list started to tick through his mind for the thousandth time. “Making dinner for me every Friday night. Spending Sundays with me at work. Staying here with me for Thanksgiving instead of going home to your family.” He paused, chuckling. “All those times we only had half an hour.”

“And we thought we were so grown up, pushing our beds together. Remember how nervous I was?” Kurt recalled, laughing at his naivety. He felt like he’d aged years since summer, rather than months.

“Well, maybe we don’t get to use it for…recreational purposes as much as we’d like. But I still love sleeping with you every night. I think about it all day long. It’s the best part of my day, every day.”

“I never want to sleep alone again,” Kurt said, shaking his head back and forth in a slow, exaggerated waggle. “Falling asleep with you every night means more to me than I ever dreamed it could.”

Blaine turned Kurt’s hands palm-side up and ran his fingers along Kurt’s fingertips, peeking out from woolen, fingerless gloves. The sigh that escaped Blaine’s lips was bittersweet. “It’s only going to get harder from here. For both of us.”

“I know.” Kurt curled his fingers into Blaine’s, seeking the warmth and connection there. “But we can make it. I want to be with you. No matter how tough it gets, you have me. You know that, right?”

Blaine smiled. He knew. “I know.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow; apparently musing on some unappealing fact. “Although your housekeeping does leave a bit to be desired.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, his voice remorseful.

“And that houseplant you wanted so badly surely would have died without my tender, devoted care.”

“Clearly, I haven’t proven myself as a caregiver,” Blaine said on a laugh. His gaze suddenly turned serious; his tone softening as he continued. “I can, you know. I can take care of the things I love. I want to.”

Blaine’s eyes dropped down to Kurt’s striped scarf, fiddling with it a bit as he thought again about how much he wanted to give this boy. “It’s my turn to take care of you tonight,” he said, looking back up to meet Kurt’s adoring gaze. “Just…relax and let me?”

Kurt batted his eyelashes a bit. “I suppose I could be okay with that.”

***

Despite the cold, they sat outside on a bench overlooking Rockefeller Center, sharing a halal platter from a nearby food truck for dinner, oblivious to the bustling world around them.

As they walked the short distance to Radio City Music Hall, Blaine put his arm around Kurt’s shoulders. “You’re not still thinking about me, are you?”

“I could never stop thinking about you.”

“You know what I mean. Taking care of me things.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said nonchalantly. He turned his face into Blaine’s ear, lowering his voice to a teasing, suggestive volume. “Unless you mean the ways I can take care of you during our half hours.”

“Now, Kurt,” Blaine said after a pause, his grip on Kurt’s shoulders tightening noticeably. “Don’t think I haven’t thought this entire night through.”

***

The show exceeded Kurt’s wildest dreams. He and Blaine were on a high all the way back to their dorm, laughing wildly as they harmonized to Christmas carols in the backseat of the cab – to the clear annoyance of their driver.

And when they finally returned home – exhausted, but euphoric from the evening’s activities – Blaine gathered Kurt in his arms, holding him tightly around the thick bulk of their winter coats.

“Let me take care of you,” Blaine breathed; the plea taking on a new meaning now that they were shrouded in darkness and privacy. “Please.”

Blaine quickly shed his own outerwear before starting on Kurt’s. His motions were slow, deliberate, methodical – unlike anything they’d had the chance to experience together in months.

Knit gloves were tugged away; the sensation of fingernails dragging along palms sending shivers up to Kurt’s cheeks and back down his spine. Next went his scarf: a soft, silky slide of fabric along the back of his neck, then a sudden rush of cool air on bare skin.

After that, his coat, and the jacket of Blaine’s choosing underneath. Blaine unfastened each button one by one, his movements lit only by the city lights from outside their window, glinting dimly against each circle of metal. Kurt was practically begging for more contact by the time Blaine slid the gray blazer off his shoulders. But under that was a turtleneck, and under that, a plain white t-shirt.

“So many layers,” Blaine murmured, humor dancing in his voice.

Kurt moaned softly when he finally, finally, felt the rough touch of Blaine’s hands on his bare skin. They slid down his chest and stomach to his belt buckle, tugging away the leather, then the denim below; jeans and briefs coming off in one fluid motion. Blaine was faster with his own clothes; sweater, shoes, socks, jeans were gone in a flash.

The barest of goosebumps had started forming on Kurt’s skin when Blaine reached for him again, edging them over to the bed. Both boys collapsed with a sigh into soft linens and fluffy pillows.

Blaine rolled himself on top of Kurt’s body, pressing warm, flat palms against his forearms. “Cold?” he asked, rubbing his hands up to Kurt’s shoulders, then back down; the friction smoothing away any trace of a chill. His voice was so low, like a rumble that Kurt could feel vibrating through his entire body.

“Not anymore.” Kurt’s eyes were wide open, but he could barely see; only feel. Skin, hair, lips, breath.

Blaine’s palms slid down again to tangle his fingers with Kurt’s. He lifted their joined hands up to either side of Kurt’s head, gently pinning him there as he alternated loving whispers and wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach: behind Kurt’s ears, down his neck, along the ridge of his collarbone.

“So beautiful.”

“I want you.”

“Let me. Kurt.”

Kurt was unable, unwilling to do anything but surrender to Blaine’s desperate pleas. Goosebumps prickled back to life along his arms and legs; the tiny shivers shooting all the way to the top of his head and down to his groin.

Blaine’s lips and tongue stroked over nipples and ribs, up to triceps and elbows, and down once more to give each spot another round of attention. Kurt writhed in pleasure under the hot, heavy weight pressing his hands and body deep into the mattress.

Tiny, gasping moans escaped from Kurt’s throat as Blaine’s kisses turned to gentle nips and swirling licks. The erotic sounds stoked the fire in Blaine’s belly, urging him to take more and more.

Blaine lifted himself up on quivering arms and leaned into their conjoined hands, binding Kurt even tighter to the bed. He rolled his hips once; then again; and again, Kurt meeting his thrusts this time. They moved together in the dark, blankets tangling around their bodies as damp skin slid over damp, velvety skin.

“Please,” Kurt heard himself gasp out. “Blaine.”

Blaine reached down for a kiss; their quivering lips gliding against each other in a slow, smooth dance before Blaine unraveled their fingers and moved away. Kurt’s hands lay motionless on either side of his head. He was too sated to move; still basking in the memory of Blaine’s strong grip holding him there.

Kurt heard the familiar sounds: Blaine rummaging through the drawer of their little plastic nightstand; a box opening; a bottle being uncapped. Then he felt: Blaine’s hand moving down, down; a wet, firm grasp briefly stroking his cock; a finger tracing a path back to his hole.

Blaine slowly circled around, over and over, with a feather light touch; torturously drawing out the sensation until Kurt was pleading for more. Gently, firmly, he pushed a single finger into the hot, silky tightness, holding it there for Kurt to get acclimated. Kurt’s breath hitched when Blaine slowly moved deeper, then back out, and in again. On the next draw out, Blaine added a second finger, working up to a steady pace. Tingling pleasure rolled through every part of Kurt’s body: fingers, toes, ears, throat, spine.

“I want to see you let go,” Blaine rasped into the dark. “I’m going to watch you.”

“Please.” It was all Kurt could say, all he could think. Blaine had unraveled him so completely and thoroughly. He was laid bare for the taking.

Blaine withdrew his fingers, leaving Kurt empty for too-long moments until he felt the tip of Blaine’s cock pushing against his entrance. They groaned together as Blaine slowly worked his way in; the dark room and city sounds absorbing the noises.

When he was completely buried, Blaine dropped his slick forehead down to Kurt’s, grabbing his face in both hands and panting hot breaths against his cheek. Kurt reached up to thread his hands into Blaine’s hair, keeping their bodies pressed as close together as possible.

The emotions washed over them slowly: heat, love, lust exploding like fireworks in their heads and hearts and bellies. Kurt felt like if Blaine let go enough, he could dissolve right into Kurt’s body and they could become a single soul.

“Just melt into me,” Kurt murmured, his voice slurred with arousal and fatigue.

“I would,” Blaine breathed, scattering kisses across Kurt’s sweaty face. “I wish.”

Blaine’s thrusts were achingly slow at first; the glorious drag of his cock against Kurt’s rim nearly making them both cross-eyed with pleasure. They quickly increased their speed, setting a frantic rhythm. Blaine licked and sucked the salty skin of Kurt’s neck and jawline, taking everything he could from the moment and giving back just as much.

Too soon, everything started to feel like too much. Blaine pressed his cheek into Kurt’s; together, they held on to every jolt of raw need, listened to every whimper and moan and slap of skin on skin.

“Kurt.” Blaine suddenly lifted his head, his eyes boring into Kurt’s through the darkness. He reached a hand between them to stroke Kurt’s cock in time with his thrusts. “Come for me. Let me see you.”

Kurt gulped warm, thick air that smelled like them: Kurt and Blaine, together. The scents and sounds and touches and words were overwhelming. All of a sudden, Kurt was coming; falling off the edge of a beautiful world into something even more exquisite. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he could still feel Blaine above him, watching the orgasm bloom across the shadowy planes of his face.

Then Blaine was right there with him, tumbling forever into the same wonderful abyss. Blaine buried his face in Kurt’s smooth, trembling neck to muffle the groan of pleasure that tore from his lips.

They remained that way, paralyzed in the afterglow, for countless minutes afterward. Blaine stayed heavy on top of Kurt; one hand still clasped against his face. Kurt was content to lie there, pinned under Blaine, reveling in the feeling of one body, together.

Their breathing slowed, grew deeper. Kurt may have dozed off; all of a sudden, he felt Blaine pull himself off and out of his body. Blaine shifted over to Kurt’s side, enveloping him and pressing a lazy kiss to his damp hairline.

“You take good care of me, too,” Kurt whispered before succumbing to the hazy pull of sleep.