Snow was falling heavily, blanketing the front yard of the Hummel-Anderson household in a thick layer of white. Kurt and Blaine were seated on the couch, each with a back against an armrest, their legs tangled together in the middle. They had a blanket draped across their laps and each was cradling a cup of coffee close to his face.

“It’s so quiet,” Kurt mused, steam tickling his nose.

Blaine chuckled softly. “Don’t question it. It’s a rarity.”

They had become parents the year before, and it seemed like every waking second (and some non-waking ones) were spent watching over or tending to the kids.

The twins – adopted, now three years old – were down for their naps, leaving them temporarily off duty. They hardly ever fell asleep at the same time. Hence why the two men were content to share this comfortable silence with each other, time to get comfortable and relax from the stress of work and fathering.

Every now and then one of them would shift slightly, his foot brushing up against his husband’s, and they would look up at each other and smile before returning to watching the weather through the window.

Finally Blaine spoke up, breaking the quiet. “What’re the plans for Christmas this year?”

Kurt shrugged, taking a sip from his mug. “I figured we could spend Christmas Eve with Dad, Carole, Finn, and Rachel.”

“Not Christmas day?”

“I mean, we can go see them that evening if the kids really want to, but I kind of want to start a Christmas tradition as a family. The girls are old enough now that they’ll start remembering these kinds of things. I want us to have Christmas morning for us, you know?”

He took another drink of the coffee. “I want them to come in and wake us up super early. I want us to go down in pajamas and make pancakes while they beg to open their presents first, and we’ll try to hold out, but we both know we’ll cave and let them open one early. I want us to open gifts while carols play in the background and sing along obnoxiously before immediately running out into the snow, even though we’re still in pajamas.”

Blaine’s face was practically glowing with his smile. “Why didn’t you just say so? Kurt, that sounds perfect. You know they’ll love it, too.”

Kurt set his mug down. He tugged distractedly at a loose thread on the blanket, the thought briefly flashing through his mind that they should take it with them on Christmas Eve so Carole could mend it.

“I never thought I would have this, you know?” He looked up at Blaine and swallowed, a bit emotional. “For the longest time, I didn’t think I’d find anyone. And I certainly never imagined that I’d have a home with a husband and – and children. Now that I do, I just want to make the most of it.”

Blaine pushed himself up onto his knees, crawling forward a bit on the couch until he was face to face with Kurt. “Baby, listen to me. Whatever you want to do is fine. Believe me, I never imagined I’d have this life either, but it’s perfect. Everything about it is perfect. You’re perfect, this house is perfect, Maddie and Leah are perfect. Christmas will be perfect too. As long as we’re together, right?”

He brought his hand up to Kurt’s face, cupping his cheek tenderly and pulling him in for a kiss, as he had done for their first kiss all those years ago. Kurt inhaled sharply, tilting his head up to meet his lips eagerly. They remained completely wrapped in each other for a few minutes, only breaking apart at the sound of quiet giggling.

Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine’s, his eyes closed. “I think we have company,” he said breathlessly.

“I think you might be right.”

Giving his husband one last kiss, Kurt turned to look at the staircase just in time to see a flash of dark curls disappear behind the wall, followed by another round of tiny laughter.

“We can see you, you know,” he called, causing the giggles to immediately cease after a few slightly-louder shushes. “I know of two little girls in this house who are supposed to be in bed for another thirty minutes.”

Blaine was shaking with laughter above him, biting his lower lip to keep quiet. “Babe, let them come in,” he said. “Besides, we’ve got all night.”

“Is that a promise?” Kurt asked, one eyebrow arched highly.

“It is if you want it to be,” was the teasing reply that came.

“Oh, I want it to be, alright.”

Blaine grinned at that, leaning down to pull his husband in for another searing kiss. The giggles were even louder this time, causing them to break apart quickly and with a sigh.

“Maybe if we just ignore them, they’ll get bored and go back to bed,” Kurt whispered, face buried in Blaine’s neck.

“Doubtful.”

He turned back to their tiny spies. “You two aren’t sleepy anymore, hm?”

“Nooooo,” they chimed, still not-so-carefully hidden behind the stairwell wall.

Kurt looked up at Blaine for some help, but he just shrugged as if to say ‘might as well, they’re awake now.’ He then brought a hand up to Blaine’s chest, pushing back slightly until he fell off his knees and back onto the soft material of the couch.

“Okay, okay. Come here, you.”

With huge smiles and yet another fit of giggles, the two girls ran around the corner and flung themselves onto the couch, landing on top of their fathers with an ‘oof’.

“Ooh, babies, you’re getting too big to do that!” Blaine said, ruffling Leah’s hair. Maddie had snuggled up onto Kurt’s chest, wrapping her tiny arms around him.

“We’re not babies!” Maddie said, her tiny lip sticking out indignantly.

Blaine laughed. “My mistake. You’re our big, big girls. How old are you about to be soon? Six? Thirteen? In college?”

“Four, daddy!” Leah cried, holding up five fingers on her left hand.

“Close, sweetheart.” Blaine pulled her little thumb in, tucking it against her hand. “That’s four.”

“Yeah, that!” she said, nodding vehemently.

Kurt pressed a kiss to Maddie’s head, smiling into her sleep-mussed hair. “And what do our big girls want for Christmas?”

Both girls started babbling at the same time, talking loudly about some toy they’d seen on tv or at daycare or at Aunt Rachel’s, each trying to outdo each other to be heard.

Kurt smiled at Blaine over their tiny heads as they rambled on, listing dolls and bikes and special markers that changed color based on what kind of paper you drew on. “Catching any of this?” he asked.

Blaine just shook his head. “Nope. But I’m sure they’ll love whatever they get.”

“You think so?” he asked.

“I know so. They’re three – they’re pretty easy to please.”

“I just want this to be the perfect Christmas for them.”

Blaine leaned forward, a squirming Leah still describing some fancy new Barbie she just had to have in his arms, and pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “It will be, Kurt. Trust me, it will be.”