It should not be this hard. He knows Kurt, he does. He knows the movies he likes, the books he reads over and over, the cologne he wears (different on the weekends than during the week). Blaine knows how much Kurt likes scarves and boots and animal-head lapel pins.

(He knows other things too: what Kurt wants for the future; what he frets about from the past. But these things don’t equate to a Christmas gift, even if they are the more significant things to know about his boyfriend.)

This year a DVD or a book or a gift card is not going to cut it. Maybe it would have when they were still only friends and it was acceptable for Christmas gifts to be just shy of superficial. But not now, not after everything - not after prom and their first time in the warm light of Blaine’s room and I love you.

Kurt is worth so much more than a silly Christmas gift and Blaine is at a loss. Googling “inexpensive Christmas gifts for the fashionable gay teenager” hasn’t produced any results either. And Googling anything with the phrase “gay teenager” in it is risky at best.

When Cooper gets up that Saturday morning the week before Christmas, he finds Blaine already awake despite the early hour and at his computer, camped out at the kitchen island.

Blaine is sitting on one of the barstools, hunched over his laptop. He’s wearing a pair of Dalton pajama pants, one of Cooper’s old Columbia shirts, and his hair is a mess. His left knee is jittering up and down rapidly and he’s chewing on his thumbnail like he’s a starving man.

“Morning,” Cooper says, casting a vague glance at the laptop, and Blaine just grunts distractedly at him before typing something out with a bit too much force.

“I’m going to go for a run. You need anything before I go?”

Blaine just grunts again, switching from chewing on his thumbnail to his ring finger, and Cooper takes that as a no.

An hour later Cooper is sweating and panting from exertion. He leaves his shoes in the entryway because it’s been snowing and there’s no way he’s leaving puddles of slushy, disgusting water all over his hardwood floors. Last time he did that he’d slipped and bruised the hell of out of his hip. Not to mention the embarrassment of Blaine seeing him fall, arms cartwheeling like a cartoon character. It’s not something he’s keen to do again.

Cooper goes to the kitchen to get some water and is surprised to find Blaine still at the island, still staring intently at his laptop. The furrow between Blaine’s eyebrows is so deep Cooper’s briefly concerned it actually will stay that way.

“Do you need help with an essay or something?” He asks.

“Huh?” Blaine’s head jerks up. He hadn’t even heard Cooper come back. “What?”

Cooper gestures at the computer. “You’ve been frowning at that thing for hours now. And it’s only 9am.”

“It’s not an assignment. It’s,” Blaine taps his fingers against the keys. “I don’t know what to get Kurt for Christmas,” he says with a sigh that comes from the bottoms of his bare feet.

“Oh,” Cooper puts his water down and leans against the opposite side of the island, forearms resting on the countertop.

“So this is a boyfriend thing, not a school thing. Come on, tell your big brother what’s going on.”

“It’s just, he’s Kurt. I can’t just get him any old thing. This is our first Christmas together. Together together. His gift needs to be perfect. And last Christmas I was a complete asshole who somehow had no idea how Kurt felt about me. I’m sure I ruined one of the best Christmas songs for him forever. So this Christmas I have to make up for last Christmas.” Blaine runs his hand through his hair again and the curls stand up even more.

“You know that’s not how that works, right? Christmas isn’t about owing anything. It’s not really even about gifts. It shouldn’t be, anyway. It’s about family and friends and love.”

“I know that. It’s just, I want to try. I want to try and show him how I feel. About him. About us.”

“Through a present.”

Blaine shoots Cooper a peeved look that Cooper’s pretty sure he learned from their grandmother. “Through the thought and time and energy I put into finding it for him.”

Cooper doesn’t have anything snarky to say about that. Not when Blaine looks so worried and dejected over something that should be as simple as a gift for his boyfriend.

“All right,” Cooper comes around the counter and slides onto the barstool next to Blaine. “Show me what you’re looking at.”

Blaine angles the laptop towards Cooper, biting his lip and twisting his hands in his lap. He’s already blushing in embarrassment at what Cooper is about to see. His leg is jiggling so hard his whole body is shaking with it.

There are roughly twelve tabs open in his browser, each one a gift Blaine’s been looking at and agonizing over for weeks. The tab that’s currently open shows a watch - an 18k pink gold skeleton watch that looks to cost about $32,000. Before shipping.

Cooper looks back and forth between Blaine and watch. Incredulous doesn’t begin to describe how he feels. He’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open a little. “Blaine,”

“I know!” Blaine throws his hands in the air before tucking them around his chest. “I just, it looks like something Kurt would wear though, right?” The hopeful little smile on his face twists at Cooper’s heart.

Cooper can’t deny that the watch is exquisite and would in fact look lovely on Kurt’s wrist, the black leather and gleaming gold standing against his pale skin. But even when they lived at home, and their parents threw money at anything and everything they wanted, when tuition at Dalton was just another check to be signed, even then this would be a bit much for a gift. Not that Mr. Anderson had never put that much down for a watch of his own, or Mrs. Anderson for a new handbag.

“Yeah but,”

Blaine nods. He knew the watch was never something he could actually get for Kurt. But it was nice to imagine presenting it to him, how big his eyes would get, how his mouth would drop open. How he would wear it every day even when it didn’t quite match his outfit. And when they held hands the strap of it would rub against the delicate inside of Blaine’s own wrist.

Cooper reaches out and rubs comfortingly at Blaine’s tense back.

“Ok B, let’s see what other options you’re thinking about.”

The other tabs contain only marginally less extravagant, but equally impossible gifts. There’s a pair of 18k gold and white gold conical cufflinks set with little diamonds around the base. They are graceful and unique. They would look gorgeous shimmering on Kurt’s cuffs. They are $13,000.

“He could wear them to prom?” Blaine offers weakly at the raised eyebrow Cooper gives him. Or maybe our wedding he thinks but doesn’t say.

Another tab is black silk-cotton military coat made in Italy. It is gorgeous: collarless and double-breasted with smooth, gunmetal grey buttons and a felt trim. Kurt would look even taller than he already is in, and it would certainly accentuate the breadth of his shoulders. The coat is $2,500 at the current exchange rate.

For those cold winters in New York Blaine mummers to the countertop.

The next is a gorgeous black Italian calfskin messenger bag that is clearly handmade. The leather looks smooth and supple even on a computer screen. This gift is a bit more manageable - the bag only costs $1,750.

There’s a tie clip and a waistcoat and a severely overpriced umbrella. All them are gifts Cooper knows Kurt would love; none of them are things Blaine can afford.

(They’ve never discussed Blaine’s financial situation, and as far as Cooper’s concerned they’re not going to.)

By the last one Blaine has buried his head in his arms and his ears are flushed bright red where Cooper can see them. He looks so pathetic that Cooper wrinkles his nose at his back. This is not the Anderson way.

Clearly the situation is far more dire than Cooper had anticipated, but he is nothing if not a good brother and he is going to help Blaine find the perfect gift for Kurt, even if it kills them both.

“Come on, let’s go,” Cooper hops off the stool. He runs upstairs and throws on some clothes that aren’t sweaty running gear. He grabs his coat from the hook and his keys from the table. He jerks his head towards the front door, almost tapping his foot with impatience.

“Where are we going?” Blaine still has his head buried in his arms and even muffled the way it is, his voice is comes through annoyed and petulant.

“Columbus. We’re not going to find anything for Kurt in Lima.”

“Coop,”

“Why are you still sitting there in your pajamas? Get up. It’s a long drive.”

***

Two hours later finds Cooper pulling into the Easton Town Center in Columbus. It’s an enormous complex, and with its public green spaces and huge central fountain, it looks more like a small town than a simple shopping center. Cooper picks a parking lot at random - he has no idea where Blaine will want to go and he’s not going to waste time with parking.

Hour after hour, store after store, Cooper trails after Blaine as he ducks into every shop he thinks might possibly carry something that would be an acceptable gift for Kurt. Cooper is astounded, maybe slightly impressed, by his brother’s ability to blow through a store in fifteen minutes and then fervently announce that nothing in there will do and that they should move on to the next one.

Cooper’s fairly certain they both look like crazy people, darting around the Easton Town Center like they’re on a scavenger hunt. Which, he supposes with a bit of hysteria, they sort of are.

At one point he has to grab Blaine by the hood of his jacket and pull him back from darting across the street to get from the Restoration Hardware to the Crate & Barrel. He is not going to end this day with Blaine getting hit by a car because he was too eager to bother looking both ways before a crossing a busy street.

Blaine is standing outside the SunGlass Hut. His nose is almost pressed to the glass as he stares at a truly lovely pair of Bvlgari frames in the display that would certainly look great on Kurt, but probably cost more than anyone should have to spend on sunglasses.

Cooper suddenly flashes to his brother as a toddler, all tiny legs and grabby hands; pants never quite reaching his shoes, bowtie more often than not askew. Their parents had them well trained as children: to mind their manners; to say please and thank you; to not run off; to not touch what wasn’t theirs.

But children are children, and one afternoon out, when Blaine was three or four, they’d passed a Build-A-Bear workshop and Blaine couldn’t contain himself. He’d squealed in delight and pulled free from Cooper’s hand, running right up to one of the windows and pressing his face and hands to the glass. He’d stared wide-eyed and grinning at the toys and colors and the other little children running around inside until his mother had come and gently pulled him away.

Another time, dear. She’d said. They never did go back for a bear.

There’s a workshop here, and Cooper has half-a-mind to take Blaine in and make him a goddamn bear. If only to put a smile on Blaine’s increasingly downtrodden face. He thinks about saying something, but when he looks back Blaine is already walking off from the SunGlass hut, no bag in hand, and heading towards another store.

Even from behind Cooper can see the dejected slump of his shoulders, the way his steps have slowed and lost the excited spring they’d had earlier. He knows his brother is loosing all hope of finding the perfect gift.

Everything Blaine sees (the scarf that was almost the right shade to match Kurt’s eyes, the boots that would have gone perfectly with his favorite jeans) is either not exactly what he’s looking for, or too expensive.

It’s not like Blaine doesn’t have any of his own money - he does. When he still lived at home his parents gave him a truly ridiculous allowance. But that’s his savings - it’s what’s going to help get him through college. As much as he wants to, he’s too responsible to tap into that for a present.

And that means the search for the right gift is proving fruitless.

“Blaine, come on,” Cooper grabs his brother’s arm as they exit the Burberry. There had been an umbrella in there that had caught Blaine’s eye (black on the outside, patterned underneath), because it reminded him of the birdcage cover Kurt had gotten for Pavarotti. But something that reminds him of a dead bird didn’t seem like an ideal Christmas gift for his boyfriend. Even if the bird’s death was what ultimately got him to pull his head out of his ass and make a move.

“Let’s sit down a second.”

Cooper is a young man. He’s in shape. He works out regularly and he eats somewhat healthful meals. But four hours of following a seventeen-year-old on a mission have done him in. He is tired. His feet hurt. He’s getting a twinge in his lower back. He needs a break.

“We’ll grab something to eat or something,” he says, using the tone he perfected when Blaine was kid and didn’t want to be convinced that what Cooper was suggesting really was the right thing to do. “Reconnoiter the situation.”

Blaine’s shoulders slump even further and he rakes his free hand through his hair. The look he shoots Cooper is equal parts annoyed and relieved. “You just love to use that word, don’t you?”

“I’m incredibly intelligent. Did you know I’m a teacher?”

“Of kids. You teach kids.”

“Look, the Nordstrom is right over there. And the car is parked in that lot. We’ll go in, look around, and if don’t find anything in there we’ll call it a day. Go home and figure something else out. Sound like plan?”

Blaine nods, and then he straightens his back and squares his shoulders, ready for one last try.

The Nordstrom is full of moms with sullen teenagers in tow looking for gifts. Cooper feels an odd sort of kindred-spiritness with them.

He loses Blaine briefly somewhere around the men’s shoe department, but spots him standing in front of some sort of display.

Blaine is staring at a belt. It’s not just a belt, but a Herm�s interchangeable silk belt. One strap is a gorgeous sky blue, the color of Kurt’s eyes when they’re alone, tangled in Blaine’s bed, and Blaine says I love you. The other strap a plaid pattern, stripped with the red, green, gold, and the same blue as the other belt. It would go with any number of Kurt’s outfits.

Cooper has never seen a belt that just screams another person before, but these belts are Kurt, though and through.

They are also $800.

Blaine reaches out and touches the belts with a desperate longing he should not be feeling for an article of clothing that holds up your pants. He saw the price tag; he knows they’re out of his reach. He won’t ask Cooper for help. He can’t. Not when he already lives under his brother’s roof, eats his food, wears his clothes. He can’t ask for more. He won’t.

“We should go,” Blaine says softly, withdrawing his hand and tucking it deep into his pocket. He doesn’t wait for Cooper to answer before turning on his heel and heading for the exit.

Cooper looks back and forth between the belts and Blaine’s retreating back for a long moment.

***

Cooper doesn’t find out about the gum wrapper ring until Blaine comes home from school that afternoon and tells him, an embarrassed little smile on his face and a too-casual shrug to his shoulders. He gets the sentimentality behind the ring, he does, and he knows that Kurt will love and cherish anything that Blaine gives him. But the thought of his brother sitting on his bed, surrounded by unchewed sticks of gum, tongue poking out in concentration, fumbling with the delicate wrappers, is so perfectly Blaine that it hurts.

He resists the urge to cuff his brother upside the head for being such a boy and makes the decision he already knew he was going to.

The next afternoon when Blaine comes home from Glee he walks into the kitchen to find Cooper waiting for him. Cooper’s face lights up when he sees Blaine; his eyes are sparkling a little too mischievously for Blaine’s liking. He knows what kind of tomfoolery his brother is capable of.

Sitting on the kitchen island is a silver Nordtrom’s box, unwrapped but with a lovely red bow on top.

“What’s this?” Blaine asks, approaching it warily. He places his fingertips on the box.

Cooper gives him a go on gesture. “Open it.”

Blaine lifts the lid and when he sees what’s inside he nearly drops it from his suddenly nerveless fingers. His breath catches hard in his throat and he feels tears spring, fast and hot, to his eyes.

It’s the Hermes belt set, the one he’d stared at for fifteen minutes last Saturday afternoon in Columbus. The one that he could never afford.

“Coop,” Blaine looks up at his brother. Cooper is grinning at him and nearly bouncing on his toes. His eyes are the blue of their grandfather’s and his hair is falling across his forehead.

“You can’t do this,” he says desperately. He’s clutching at the sides of the box so hard they dent, too struck with emotion to do anything else.

“I already did it.” Cooper lifts a casual shoulder. “It’s done.”

Sometimes Blaine loves his brother; other times he loves him so much it hurts. This is one of those latter times.

“Coop,” he whispers again, past the lump in his throat. A tear escapes and slides down his cheek.

“Aww, Blainers.” Cooper comes around the island and wraps Blaine up in a fierce hug, nearly lifting him off his toes.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did. You’re my brother. He’s your boyfriend. He’s family too now.” Cooper takes a tiny step back and presses a quick kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “Like you said, this is your first Christmas together. Let me help you make it perfect.”

Blaine closes his eyes against it all. He will never be able to thank Cooper enough for this.

“Oh my god,” he says suddenly, eyes flying open with a realization. “I really am an asshole. This is our first Christmas together. As our own little family. And I’ve been so focused on this, on Kurt, that I haven’t bothered trying to make it special for us.”

Cooper reaches out and places his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, giving him an affectionate little shake.

“Hey. It’s ok. I know how much Kurt means to you. How important he is.”

“You’re important to me too.”

Cooper just rolls his eyes. “I know, B. I know. Look, I’ve got a turkey in the freezer that’s way too big for just the two of us. We’ll set the table. Use real napkins. I’ll even let you have a little wine. We’ll have our own homey little Christmas. Just you and me and 24 hours of A Christmas Story. How does that sound?”

Blaine’s smile is tremulous, lips quivering to hold back a few tears. “It sounds perfect.” And it really does.