“That's it! I'm done! I can't do this anymore!” Kurt exclaimed, throwing down his scissors and his tape, growling in frustration at the stack of unwrapped toys that have defeated him. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing them hard to get them to focus normally again since they have been staring at Barbie- and Transformer- themed Christmas wrapping paper for the past six hours.

“But we only have about twenty-two presents left to go,” Blaine yawned, setting down his pair of scissors and tilting his head up to blink the pink Barbie haze from his own exhausted eyes.

“I don't care!” Kurt said, struggling to unwind from his cross-legged position on the floor and attempting to stand, one arm supporting his aching back while the other clawed at the sofa, searching out support for his locked knees. “We've already put together one doll house, three bicycles, and a basketball hoop! This is getting ridiculous! Every muscle in my body hurts and my eyes are doing a weird zigzaggy thing…” Kurt made a z-shaped motion with his index fingers to indicate the batty way his eyes had started to roll in his head on their own. “I mean, who bought the kids all these presents anyway?”

Blaine looked up at Kurt, raising an eyebrow in silent response to his dom's question.

Kurt caught Blaine's look and sighed.

“Okay, okay, I bought most of the presents,” Kurt admitted, bending backward to stretch his spine and rubbing frantically at his sore hips as his back cracked, “and maybe I got a little carried away. I didn't imagine it would take this long to wrap presents for four kids. It never has before.”

Kurt didn't want to mention that that was because they didn't have the money to buy the kids so many presents before. While he was in the throes of retail euphoria, Kurt had felt like he was making up for the years of poverty he had put the kids through. Now it just seemed a tiny bit gluttonous.

“Well, maybe you could put the rest of the toys away for birthdays? Or next Christmas?” Blaine suggested, rising to his feet slowly amidst a pile of unassembled doll furniture and partially wrapped Play-Doh containers.

Kurt looked at the toys strewn about the living room floor waiting to be wrapped, quietly assessing each one, and shook his head.

“No,” he concluded, “you know how quickly kids' tastes change. Best to give them to the kids nooooow…” Kurt yawned. He stretched his arms over his head, his limbs and his back extending as far as they could go, maybe an inch or two further. Blaine stole the opportunity to watch Kurt's shirt rise up his taut stomach, exposing the defined V-cut of his muscles as they dipped down into his loose pajama pants. Blaine licked his lips, an image of exactly what hid beneath those thin cotton pants leaping vividly to his mind.

Blaine didn't feel right getting a boner on Christmas Eve surrounded by children's toys, but his reaction to his dom's incredible body was pretty much ingrained in his every cell by now. He couldn't stop himself from getting hard at the sight of Kurt's flawless skin or his muscular, trim form if he tried.

Kurt squeezed his eyes tight and shook his head, staving off the onset of delirium. “Okay,” he said, blowing a breath past his lips, “I can do this. I can do this. We're at the home stretch. I just need some motivation.”

“Motivation, huh?” Blaine said. He bit his lip and walked toward the tree – a towering nine foot Douglas fir covered in mostly the kids' handmade ornaments – picking up a present near the front. Blaine held it in both hands - long and flat, wrapped in iridescent gold paper. “How about I give you a little motivation?”

Kurt looked at the gift, but in particular at the way Blaine turned it over in his hands by one end and seemed to strain slightly beneath its weight. Kurt's eyes lit up when it dawned on him what must be hiding beneath the sparkly, shimmery paper.

“Is that…did you buy me…a paddle?” Kurt reached out a hand for the gift, but Blaine pulled it a little out of his reach.

“Maybe I did,” Blaine said boldly, his sly smirk countering the commanding glimmer in Kurt's eyes. “And maybe I got it inscribed. The faster we get these last presents wrapped, the faster you find out.”

Kurt smiled, eyes bouncing from the present in Blaine's hands to Blaine's darkening eyes.

“Fine,” Kurt said, backing away toward his unfinished wrapping, “but I don't think you're going to be smiling after I get my hands on that paddle.”

“Something tells me I will,” Blaine said beneath his breath as he placed the present back under the tree and returned to his own stack of unwrapped toys.

Kurt rolled his wrapping paper out on the floor and started to cut, sliding the blades of his scissors swiftly through the paper and tragically, right through poor Barbie's face. Halfway through his sheet of wrapping paper, Kurt's scissors stopped cutting, and he turned to face Blaine, sticking tape onto a seam.

“Were you…going to let me open that in front of the kids?” Kurt asked.

Blaine didn't answer - the smile on his face and the growing red flush on his cheeks answering for him.

“Ooo, you are going to get it, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt said with a click of his tongue and sounding thoroughly amused. “You are going to get it good.”