The anxiety was back. It settled in Blaine’s heart, unmoving – like an empty weight that made it hard to breathe or feel anything else – as soon as he saw the checkerboard Ohio landscape through the tiny airplane window.

They were home again.

Blaine blew out a deep breath, as if he could expel the heaviness from his chest through his lips. The sudden sound had Kurt looking over at him, brow furrowed with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Blaine swallowed hard. “Nervous.”

Kurt put his hand over Blaine’s on the armrest and squeezed gently. “I’m here.”

It will be fine, Blaine thought as he gave Kurt a small smile of gratitude. He was staying with Kurt’s family. He had a new place to call home: somewhere with lots of love and happiness; where he was accepted and included, no questions asked.

But he wanted his home again: his own family, his childhood bedroom, the beautiful smells and music that always wafted through the air at Christmas.

What would happen if he went back? Would he get an apology, or more cutting words? Should he just show up? Or call to ask first? No. He wasn’t going to beg to come back. Not after the way his father treated him.

“Don’t think you can come crawling back here.” Would those words ever stop echoing in his head?

If his father wanted to see him, he would let Blaine know. In the meantime, Blaine tried to focus on the warm weight of Kurt’s hand on his, reminding him where home really was.

***

An hour later, Kurt, Blaine and Finn were squashed together in the front seat of Finn’s truck: Blaine in the middle, and Kurt in the passenger seat, staring out at the absolute nothing of western Ohio as Finn drove them home to Lima.

Culture shock had smacked Kurt in the face as soon as they’d set foot in the Columbus airport. After four months in the gritty, glitzy city, they were back in bland Middle America. Ohio had never felt more suffocatingly small, even as they rolled past wide expanses of farmland, tilled and dead in winter.

All Kurt wanted to do was go home: home to his family and his bedroom and Christmas, where there was no schoolwork, no obligations, and a bathroom he didn’t have to share with thirty other guys.

Having Blaine there with his family was like a cherry on top of the already perfect thought of spending two weeks insulated in the warm, comfortable glow of home. He just hated the circumstances that led to it.

 “So…where’s Rachel?” Finn’s voice interrupted Kurt’s thoughts. Only then did Kurt realize they’d all been dead quiet, lost in their own private musings.

“She flew in yesterday,” Blaine replied. “Her…classes ended before ours.” It was the truth; although Rachel certainly would have preferred to fly back home with them, had Finn not been the one picking them up from the airport.

“Oh.” They lapsed into silence again for a few seconds. “I’m kinda seeing this new girl. Anna.”

“Already?” Kurt turned away from the window to shoot Finn a critical glance.

Finn looked nervous. “She’s – she’s nice. She lives on my floor. She’s from Ashtabula. I think I might go visit her for new years.”

Kurt’s thoughts shifted from judgmental to joyful in an instant. He immediately started thinking of ways he could convince his parents to go out for New Years Eve so he and Blaine could have the house to themselves.

Kurt shifted his gaze to Blaine, trying to give him a smile and a wink about their potentially private New Years Eve celebration. But Blaine was staring straight ahead, watching the yellow lines disappear under the hood of the truck as it cruised along the highway.

Kurt’s face set in a frown. He knew what to do Blaine got sad, or angry. He could make him smile, or take his mind off things for a while with a kiss or a song. But when Blaine was distant like this, Kurt felt like there was no way he could offer any comfort. It made Kurt want to drive straight over to the Andersons’ house and scream at Blaine’s father: “Don’t you realize what you have? What you’ve done to him?”

It reminded Kurt of his conversation with his dad the previous weekend, when he’d called to ask if Blaine could spend winter break with them.

“Dad? Can Blaine stay with us over Christmas?”

“His dad, still?”

“Yeah.”

 “Man, would I like to give that guy a piece of my mind.”

“You’ll have to get in line behind me, Dad.”

***

“Hey! There they are!”

Burt launched up from his chair and hurried over to the door when Kurt, Blaine and Finn trudged through, suitcases and duffel bags in tow. Burt grabbed Kurt, pulling him in for a tight hug before he could even put his shoulder bag down. “Welcome home, kiddo!”

“Dad!” Kurt laughed, squeezing his father tightly. “Wait, wait! Let me put my stuff down!” But Burt didn’t let go. Blaine couldn’t stop staring at them: their happy laughs, their ear-to-ear smiles, the tears that were welling up in Burt’s eyes. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like forever.

“Hi, Blaine.” Blaine tore his eyes from Kurt and Burt’s reunion to face Carole, who’d come over to greet him with a warm smile and an embrace. “We’re happy to have you here, honey,” she said, pulling away and laying a hand on his cheek.

Blaine smiled weakly at her in return. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He liked Carole. She was motherly in a completely different way than his own mother: caring, rather than doting.

They all helped bring the boys’ luggage into the house, asking the obligatory questions about flights home and final exams. “Now listen,” Burt started as Finn dragged the last of his four laundry bags through the door. He pointed a finger between Kurt and Blaine. “You two may live together at school, but you’re under my roof now, and so you’ll live by my rules.”

“Oh, Burt,” Carole chided, smacking Burt lightly on the arm. “Let them be. They live together. They’re not going to try any funny business while they’re here. Right, boys?”

Blaine shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing. His eyes darted over at Kurt, who looked similarly pink-cheeked, but hopeful. “Right,” they both answered quietly.

“Come on, Blaine.” Kurt turned to him suddenly, rushing out the words. “Let’s bring our stuff upstairs. Now.”

“Hey,” Burt called after them as they quickly retreated up the stairs. “We’re starting dinner in half an hour! And keep the damn door open!”

***

That evening, they shared one of the most spirited, joyous Friday night dinners in Hummel-Hudson family history. Burt and Carole’s boys were back, and they were celebrating – properly, and loudly.

While Finn and Blaine conspired together on a music playlist, Kurt and Carole prepared dinner, whispering and laughing over something secret between them. Burt played grillmaster, singing along to Elvis and Springsteen as he flitted back and forth between the kitchen and the back deck.

“It’s snowing!” he announced as he returned from one trip outside, his cap and shoulders covered with a dusting of white.

“I can see that, Dad,” Kurt said sarcastically, reaching over to brush the snow off one shoulder. “Put a coat on.”

“I’m only gonna be out there for a sec.” Burt grabbed a plate of meat off the counter. “Hey, Blaine? How do you like your steak?”

Blaine could have cried with joy at the mention of red meat. “Rare. Please.”

Kurt peered over his father’s shoulder. “Are those the grass-fed ones? From the farm?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Burt waved him off.

“Because I’m going to be able to tell if they’re not.”

“They’re from the farm, Kurt!” Burt called over his shoulder as he slipped back outside.

When they all sat down to eat, Kurt told his parents about the dinners they’d had every Friday night at school to keep the Hummel family tradition going in New York City.

“That’s why Blaine’s so excited tonight,” Kurt explained, attempting to bring Blaine into the fold of their conversation. “All of our dinners have been vegan, with Rachel around.”

Burt raised an eyebrow at him from across the table. “That’s inhumane treatment, Kurt. No wonder he looks so damn skinny.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because he subsists on coffee and Clif bars the rest of the week,” Kurt retorted, sending Blaine a knowing smirk. He was always keeping tabs on Blaine’s eating habits – which they both knew full well was the only way Blaine would remember to eat a proper meal on his busiest days.

“Or maybe because I have seven and a half hours of dance and movement class every week,” Blaine shot back, forking a huge chunk of steak into his mouth. At the rate he was going, he’d gain the weight back by the time they had to return to New York. “But we’d never do anything to exclude Rachel from our dinners. She’s like our family, too.”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds as Blaine happened to look over at Finn, violently spearing at his dinner with his fork. Thankfully, Carole noticed, and filled the lull. “It’s so nice that you’re all still friends.”

Kurt nodded happily. “We couldn’t ever not be friends with Rachel.”

“Even if we wanted to,” Blaine added. They both looked at each other, sharing a little laugh.

They sat around for a while after they were done with dinner, chatting aimlessly while the playlist shuffled through hits by the Police and the Rolling Stones. It all felt so homey, so normal. Blaine started to let himself sink into it; to feel like he was really a part of this family.

He nearly jumped when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Bridget. “When r u coming over herrrrrreeee?????”

Blaine slipped his arms under the table to discreetly tap out a reply. “idk if I am. Haven’t heard from dad.”

A few minutes later, Blaine got her response. “I just told him to call u. he went in his study and shut the door. Maybe hes calling now.”

Blaine waited, and checked, and double checked his phone for the next hour. But his father never called.

***

They all lingered in the living room late into the evening, watching the snow fall outside the picture window while they caught up on everything that had happened in Lima and New York since Kurt left in August. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation droned in the background; Finn’s occasional laughs layering over the conversation and white noise.

The New York updates took up most of their time: Kurt and Blaine’s Thanksgiving together, Blaine’s Sunday afternoon coffee shop gigs, Finn’s fall break visit, the new friends they’d made, and the strangest things they’d seen while walking the streets of Manhattan.

“I mean, he had a cat on his head. What would you do if you were suddenly approached by a guy with a cat on his head?” Kurt laughed at the memory. “Remember that, Blaine?”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed, his voice listless in spite of the humorous tale. Kurt watched him pull his phone out of his pocket for the hundredth time that night and check it for new notifications, sighing when he found none.

Kurt let out a big, loud yawn. He hoped it didn’t sound too fake. “Boy, am I exhausted. Let’s go to bed, Blaine. We had a long day.” Before Blaine could react, Kurt grabbed his hand, pulling him up off the couch. “Goodnight, everybody!”

A chorus of goodnights rang out in reply as they hurried up the stairs, hand in hand. Burt’s usual refrain of “Keep your door open!” was conspicuously absent – the result of Carole softly elbowing him just as he opened his mouth to say it.

Upstairs, Kurt closed his bedroom door soundly behind them. “What’s wrong?” he asked, turning around to face Blaine. He looked like he was about to burst into tears.

“Blaine, please talk to me.” Kurt stepped closer, placing his hands on Blaine’s arms to comfort him. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what you’re thinking.”

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself with a deep breath. “Bridget said my dad might call me tonight. But he hasn’t.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, trying to follow Blaine’s line of thought. “Maybe he’ll still call? You only just got back today. He might be…working up to it or something.”

“He’s not going to call!” Blaine burst out, making Kurt blink with surprise. “He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want me around.” Blaine laughed bitterly. “Mom said he’d come around. Well, it’s been four months and he hasn’t, has he?”

 “Do you want to go over there? We can. I’ll go with you.” Kurt squeezed Blaine’s shoulders. “You know you have me. I’m here for you.”

“Yeah, but you have all of this, too!” Blaine snapped, gesturing bitterly toward the living room below them, where Kurt’s family still sat together, talking and laughing happily.

Kurt gaped at him. Immediately, Blaine looked apologetic. “Kurt. I…I’m sorry. I just mean –”

He was cut off by Kurt’s frustrated sigh. “Don’t you understand, Blaine? They…” Kurt waved a hand downward, the same way Blaine had. “We want you here. You have them, too.” They were both quiet for a moment, letting the words rest in the air between them.

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” Blaine said again, dropping his head down to avoid Kurt’s gaze. “I just…I miss my own family. I miss Bridget, my mother. That’s my history, my whole life up to this point. And I’m the one responsible for messing it up.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow sharply. In all of their talks, Blaine had never said anything like this. He remained silent, letting Blaine talk out the terrible thoughts Kurt now realized he’d been keeping inside for the past four months.

“It’s my fault for pulling my family apart. There’s always going to be a rift now because of me. My mother and my sister having to choose sides, all because of the choice I made to go to New York.”

Kurt shook his head. “No. No. You –” Kurt punctuated the word by stabbing a finger into Blaine’s chest “– have nothing to be sorry about. This situation is not your fault. If you want to be sad about it, or angry at him, I understand that. But don’t you dare blame yourself.”

Kurt was furious now. For months, he’d been Blaine’s rock: soothing, comforting, understanding. It was past time he snapped.

“He made this mess. You gave him more time and made more excuses than he deserved. Do not let the fact that he hasn’t spoken to you since allow you to second guess yourself. He’s nothing but a judgmental jerk who cares more about himself than his own children’s happiness.”

Kurt’s breaths were coming out in heavy pants. He paused, closing his eyes briefly, to let his anger subside. When he opened them again, Blaine’s head was still hanging down, focused on an invisible spot on the floor; or, more likely, what was just below the floor.

“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice softened. He reached for Blaine’s jaw, forcing him to look up. Kurt gave him a small, encouraging smile. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. He’s the coward. He’s the one who deserves to feel bad. Not you. Not ever.”

Kurt leaned forward to kiss him, right over the scratchy stubble growing near the corner of his mouth. He kissed him again, and again; willing Blaine’s troubles away with the sweet presses of lips to skin. After another kiss, then another, Kurt rested his face against Blaine’s cheek, holding him close and breathing him in.

“I want to help you settle things, once and for all,” he whispered. “This needs to end. I can’t bear to see you like this anymore.”

“I’m afraid.” Blaine’s voice sounded so small, so drained. “It’s like, I know what’s going to happen if I go there, and it’s even worse than living in this limbo.”

“You don’t know what’s going to happen, Blaine. He could be just as scared as you.” Although Kurt highly doubted that one. “Why don’t you give him until Christmas? If you don’t hear from him by then, I think you have the right to storm over there and tell him off.” He let out a low hum. “Then we’ll kidnap Bridget and bring her to New York with us. I’ll teach her how to manage comments on my blog, and she can deliver you meals between your classes.”

Blaine chuckled. Kurt thought the happy little sound was more beautiful than music. “I don’t know why, but I always picture her in New York with us someday,” he said quietly.

“It would be wonderful to have family there, wouldn’t it?” The words escaped out of Kurt’s mouth before he really thought them through. He pulled back a bit to look at Blaine sheepishly. “I guess I kind of think of her as my little sister sometimes, too.”

 “She would love to hear you say that,” Blaine said, his whole face lighting up. “She adores you.”

Kurt preened a little. “Well, I am an excellent shopping guide. I’m like a girl’s dream gay big brother.”

Blaine scoffed. “I think I’m offended.”

“The only thing that’s offensive is that lavender sweater you told her to buy last winter.”

“Are you really not going to let that go?”

“Girls with her olive complexion cannot wear pastels, Blaine. It’s simple fact.”

Blaine gazed at him adoringly. “Once again, you’re wonderful.”

Kurt wasn’t going to let their conversation slip toward melancholy again tonight. “How wonderful?”

“So wonderful that I’d like to try a little funny business with you behind your closed door.”

Kurt made a little noise of approval. “Why don’t we get ready for bed and then you can show me?”

But Blaine wrapped him in a tight hug instead. “Give him till Christmas,” he echoed Kurt’s words.

Kurt nodded against Blaine’s hair. “Until then, you’re going to let yourself enjoy some time with my family. They love you, and they want you here. I want you here. Forever.”

When they got in bed, they didn’t try any funny business after all; settling instead for sweet kisses and soothing words whispered well into the night, finally falling asleep wrapped up in each other while snow blanketed the world outside.

***

“Boys!” Burt bellowed up the stairs, rousing Kurt and Blaine from the depths of sleep. “Get down here and help me shovel the driveway. I need to go to work.”

Kurt moaned into his pillow. He dug his head deeper into Blaine’s shoulder, trying to block out his father’s voice and the annoying rays of early morning sunlight peeking through his blinds. “What time is it?”

Blaine peeled open a bleary eye, his neck creaking as he turned to read the clock on the night stand. “7:03.”

Kurt groaned again. “Oh, god.”

“How did we ever wake up so early in high school?” Blaine wondered aloud, dropping his head back down to the pillow with a muffled thud. “This time last year, we’d have already been at the Lima Bean by now.”

“Kurt.” His father’s yell was louder, more insistent.

Kurt let out a strangled sigh. “Okay!” he shouted. He sat up quickly, jamming the heels of his hands into his eyes to rub them awake.

Blaine rose beside him, idly smoothing a hand over his back. “Come on. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can jump in the shower together to warm up.”

Burt was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs when they shuffled down together. “Weather lady said we got eleven inches,” he said in lieu of a good morning.

“Can’t we have coffee first?” Kurt whined.

“No,” Burt said sternly. “You know where the shovels are.”

Kurt sighed, stomping over to the hall closet and yanking out an old, black peacoat. He tugged a gray knit hat over his head and shoved his hands into thick gloves before they trudged outside, grabbing show shovels from the garage on the way.

They shoveled behind Burt’s car first, making a clear path for his car out of the driveway. Finn was already hard at work, quickly clearing the sidewalk in front of the house while Burt gave Kurt and Blaine more orders.

“I want you boys to finish the rest of the driveway and the walkway, or else it’s all gonna freeze over tonight. Then when you’re done, I need you to go to the store and pick up the rest of the stuff on Carole’s list for Christmas dinner. It’s on the fridge.”

Burt waved and shot them a big grin as he backed his car out of the now-cleared driveway and onto the snowy street.

“Well, if this doesn’t convince you that you’re part of the family, I’m not sure what will,” Kurt said to Blaine as they watched Burt slowly drive away.

“He’s really enjoying the fact that he has all of us here to do his housework for the next two weeks, isn’t he?”

“I suppose I’d be resentful if it wasn’t for his health.” Kurt looked around suddenly. “Where did Finn go?”

As if on cue, Finn reappeared from inside the house, wearing clothes that were clearly not intended for yardwork. His keys jingled in his hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kurt demanded.

“I gotta go see Puck and Sam,” Finn responded as he opened the door to his truck. “I already finished my part. You city folk can handle the rest.”

Kurt scowled at Finn’s truck as it followed the same path out of the driveway and away. Kurt and Blaine worked slowly to clear the rest of the wet, heavy snow: both tired and unaccustomed to heavy physical labor. The only sound between them was the continuous scrape of metal on pavement.

“What are you thinking about?” Blaine asked offhandedly, trying to fill the quiet.

“How we went from kissing in the middle of Rockefeller Center to shoveling a driveway in Ohio in the span of ten days.”

Blaine laughed. “Don’t tell the neighbors about our secret glamorous fantasy life.”

Kurt snorted at the joke. “You really are a nerd.”

Blaine paused for a moment to catch his breath, groaning as he flexed his increasingly sore arms. He found himself watching Kurt move: shoveling small scoops of snow off the ground, then awkwardly plopping them off to the side. He sniffled twice, stopping to press the back of his hand to his red nose. His hat was the kind with a fluffy pom pom on top and knit strings hanging from his ears. Blaine usually thought those hats were ridiculous; but on Kurt, it looked utterly adorable.

“Hey.”

Kurt stabbed his shovel into the walkway with a heavy clink and leaned into the handle, jutting out a hip and blowing out a heavy breath. “What?”

Blaine dropped his shovel onto the ground and started walking toward him. Now that Kurt was facing forward, Blaine could see how his silly hat was slightly askew on his head, and how his bangs were poking out from underneath to rest on his forehead. His cheeks were impossibly pink, and his nose was still running – just a little.

Blaine smiled, slow and warm. It started in his eyes and spread to one corner of his mouth, then the other. “Do me a favor?”

“What?” Kurt sounded suspicious.

“Let me take a picture of you.”

“Oh, no.” Kurt shook his head back and forth, his eyebrow cocked in a warning. “Nooooo…”

“Come on. I want to give you a Christmas present.”

“You already gave me one. A huge one.”

“Well, this one is kind of for both of us. You’ll see.” Blaine reached over and teasingly tugged at one of the knit strings on Kurt’s hat, flashing him the most dazzling smile he could manage. “Just let me.”

Kurt sighed and stared at him. When he didn’t move for a few seconds, Blaine took it as silent approval. He quickly pulled off a glove and fished his phone out of his pocket.

Blaine grinned from ear to ear when the picture appeared on his screen. Kurt had rolled his eyes when the shutter snapped, adding even more personality to the portrait. “I’m making this your picture in my contacts, and I’m never changing it.”

“Do you want me to throw your phone out our window when we get back to New York?”

“You wouldn’t dare cause such injury to your poor boyfriend’s bank account.” Blaine nudged Kurt’s arm with his elbow. “Now hurry up and finish. It’s almost shower time.”

***

The water was hot, unbearably hot; burning Kurt’s pale skin red and melting the cold from his frozen limbs. But nothing could compare to the furnace that was Blaine’s mouth, tight around his cock.

They’d been doing this for twenty minutes now: alternating pressing the other boy’s body up against the shower wall, deliciously cool on their backs. Kurt’s hands scrabbled and scratched at the slick, wet tiles, desperate to grasp on to something as the tingling in his belly grew.

Scalding water mixed with slick saliva as Blaine sucked and licked a relentless rhythm up and down and around Kurt’s length. Kurt’s moans echoed through the heat and steam that cocooned them in a thick, drowsy fog of pleasure.

There are some perks to being home, I guess, was Kurt’s last, hazy thought before he finally slipped off the edge.

***

“Okay. Done!”

Blaine’s proclamation roused Kurt from his fuzzy, semi-conscious state. Kurt yawned and lifted his arms above his head, arching his back as he stretched his entire body out. His muscles still felt like jelly after shoveling snow and their hot shower. He’d never have been able to doze off otherwise – not with Blaine sitting beside him in bed, typing up a post for his blog.

“I can’t believe I let you do this,” Kurt muttered sleepily, still wary of whatever Blaine had just written.

“Trust me,” Blaine assured as he handed over the computer. “Your readers are going to love it.”

The first thing Kurt saw was the front page of his blog. His eyes immediately focused on the photo Blaine had taken that morning, embedded into a new post called “A Christmas morning with Kurt.”

“What…” Kurt trailed off as he skimmed the two comments that had already popped up at the end.

“AWWWWWW!!!! This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my LIFE! Merry Christmas, Kurt and Blaine!”

“OMG, I want an invitation to you guys’ wedding someday, seriously. Best post ever. And Kurt, you always look fabulous, no matter what!”

“Just read it.” Blaine leaned back against the headboard, smiling as he watched Kurt scroll through his text.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

(This is a guest post by Blaine Anderson, boyfriend and love of Kurt Hummel’s life.)

I know Kurt always says “every moment of your life is a fashion opportunity” and all that. But today he missed an opportunity – opting instead for a look that may not be fashion forward, but stole my heart anyway.

I’ve been lucky enough to live with Kurt for the past several months, and so I’ve seen him…shall we say, unfiltered, on several occasions. This morning, for some reason, was really special. Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas, or because we’re home again after several months away, or I’m just stupidly, hopelessly in love with him. (…well, I know that’s definitely the case.)

I don’t think I’ll forget this moment for the rest of my life. And no, it’s not because you “looked a fright”(his words), Kurt. It’s because you were you: simple, real and unadorned. Red cheeks, runny nose, rumpled old winter coat – and rolling your eyes at me for wanting to freeze this image in time forever.

Later on tonight, we’ll have dinner with his family and he’ll be dressed to the nines, gorgeous as usual. I adore that Kurt. But I want everybody else to see him the way I do, too. Because these are the times when I fall in love with him all over again.

So Merry Christmas, Kurt. Thank you for being my biggest supporter and my best friend. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a partner, and I love you with all of my heart – no matter what you’re wearing.

Never closing the Kurtain on you,

<3 Blaine