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“Why, good morning, boys! How are you on this lovely day of December?”
Rachel, hands neatly folded behind her back, strode up to Kurt and Blaine who were situated at their lockers, seemingly puzzled by the girl’s cheerful demeanor.
Kurt, a mid-spray of hairspray hissing from the aerosol can, kept his hand poised above his head and arched a quizzical eyebrow. “My, aren’t we perky for an...eight a.m. on a Wednesday,” he accused, surreptitiously turning his wrist to confirm the hour.
Blaine shoved a few textbooks into his locker before retrieving a drawstring bag containing his gym clothes. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Rachel flashed the boys an earnest, toothy smile before thrusting her hands from behind her back and waving two envelopes excitedly in front of her body. “Take one, each of you,” she instructed.
Kurt and Blaine looked at each other before grabbing an envelope, their names scrawled across the fuschia paper in thick, black cursive with a gold star sticker accompanying. Carefully, the two opened the cards, Kurt scoffing when golden glitter fell from inside.
“You, Mr. Blaine Anderson, have been cordially invited to one, Rachel Berry’s, holiday extravaganza. The affair will take place at the Berry household this Saturday, December 22, 2012 at seven o’clock, sharp.”. Blaine stopped reading and looked up at Rachel, warmly. “Aw, thanks for the invite, Rachel. We’ll be sure to attend.” Blaine threaded his arm around Kurt’s waist, drawing him closer against his side. “Do we need to bring anything?”
“Keep reading,” Rachel trilled, her eyes wide and glinting.
“The theme for the evening is ugly Christmas sweaters. Ugly Christmas Sweaters? Rachel,” Kurt huffed, looking down at the girl from over the card, “this is your theme? I’m sorry, but why would you willingly choose to throw a party under such tacky circumstances? This this just an excuse to have everyone dress like you, isn’t it? No offense, but that look isn’t couture on you, let alone a hundred of your guests.”
Rachel’s lips dipped, her brows furrowing into a scowl. “I wanted an excuse to have a fun, little get together, Kurt. I’ve participated in all the Christmas festivities imaginable before except an ugly sweater party, and since everyone is so stressed from Sectionals and the Christmas special and applying for college and university, I thought this would be a great opportunity for us glee clubbers to get together and just let loose. But,” she snapped, straightening her posture, “if that is too difficult for you, then I would like my invitation back, please.” She snapped her fingers in front, gesturing towards the envelope.
“Guys,” Blaine held up his hand definitively between the two, “you’re both being ridiculous. This is the holiday season. You know, the time of year where we’re supposed to put away our petty differences and just embrace one another? I, for one, would love to attend.” Blaine handed his card to Rachel. “Consider this a formal R.S.V.P. from yours truly.”
Tentatively, Rachel took the envelope from Blaine’s hands and smiled. “Well, thank you. The both of you were the last on my list for doling out my invitations. Everyone can attend, except Brittany because her family seems to be leaving for vacation this Friday. So, I will see you this Saturday, Blaine.”
Kurt rolled his eyes, sighing in resignation before sending Rachel a small smile. “I’m sorry for my behaviour. It’s not the theme that I would choose for a holiday party, but every moment is an opportunity for fashion, so I will do my best. But, don’t be surprised if my sweater turns out to be more chic than cheap.”
Rachel squealed and pulled Blaine and Kurt into a fierce hug. “Thank you so much! This is going to be so much fun, I promise. Nothing like my house party from last year. There will be non-alcoholic eggnog, pinky swear.” She eyed over the two boys before spinning on her heel and striding down the corridor. “Seven P.M. sharp!” Rachel called before turning a corner.
Once out of sight, Blaine huffed out a laugh, leaning back against his locker. “Well, she’s certainly something.”
“Yes, a real delight,” Kurt mused, looking over his appearance once, twice, and a final third time in his locker mirror. He slammed shut the door and turned to Blaine, suggestively. “Are you actually going to go along with the atrocious sweater theme? I mean, it won’t be hard for her to find something to wear, but I doubt I own anything that could be considered Christmas tacky.”
Blaine’s mouth fell open in thought, but he swiftly clamped his lips shut. “I’ll have to go to a thrift shop, I suppose. Do you think I own anything that I could alter? You know, add a neckline of tinsel or something to that effect?”
Kurt’s eyes searched Blaine’s face before he smiled, placatingly. “Oh, sweetie,” Kurt cooed, fixing and adjusting the bow tie around Blaine’s neck, “you do probably own a grandfather sweater that needs no alteration.” He smirked at Blaine’s affronted face before smoothing his tweed blazer lapels so they perfectly framed the bow tie. “We can drive to the thrift store after school today. I promise I will only utter a handful of disgusted gasps.”
Darting his eyes back and forth and smiling at the near empty hallway, Blaine lurched forever onto the balls of his feet and pressed a chaste kiss against the seam of Kurt’s lips, catching him off guard. “That’s all I ever ask,” he grinned, taking notice of Kurt’s quick blush. “Now, move it, mister, because you’re going to be late for class that starts in ten minutes on the north side of the school.” He lightly pushed Kurt’s back in the direction of his classroom, waving fondly before heading towards the locker room for first period gym.
---
Kurt leaned against the door of his Nav, twirling his key ring around his index finger. He let a slow stream of breath pass through his lips, watching the air twirl in front of his face. Kurt heard the wet sound of slush and snow crunching, his lips quirking into a smile as Blaine approached, nodding his head at his boyfriend.
“Why, hello, there,” Kurt crooned, unlocking his car and bundling into the driver’s seat.
Blaine threw his messenger bag into the back seat and joined Kurt in the front, breathing out sharply when he sat down. “I’m actually really excited for this, you know how much I love thrift stores. What if I find an EP of Siren there? Or,” Blaine gasped, bringing his hands to his mouth, “what if we unearth a collection of thistle bow ties? Most of mine are bat winged, and I don’t possess nearly enough thistles. Oh, god, Kurt, what if they’re adjustable?”
Kurt rolled his eyes as he drove out of his parking spot, a quip ready on his tongue before he realized Blaine was so desperately serious about this, and decided it would be best if he kept his comments to himself. Besides, his boyfriend’s enthusiasm for those strips of silk was impossibly endearing and he had no right to deny Blaine such pleasure.
They traveled to the shop, making small chit chat about their upcoming holiday traditions and forced family get-togethers, until they reached the plaza and Blaine bounded out the car door before it had barely stopped, ignition not even shut off.
Kurt followed Blaine inside, mostly standing stationary in front of one rack, flitting through hangers and trying to mask the end of his nose turning up at a majority of these ensembles. Frankly, Kurt already had his “tacky” Christmas sweater picked out: an oversized red cowl neck that would be adorned with a simple brooch. So, essentially, he was mostly here for Blaine, attempting to help him find something grotesque before Saturday.
“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine called from across the shop, his head buried deep in a bucket of dress shoes. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? My brother is back from LA for the holidays, and he’s dying to meet you.”
“Ooh, I finally get to meet the elusive Cooper Anderson. Of course, I’ll be there with bells on.” Kurt continued to rummage through the clothing rack, until he reached a robin egg blue pullover sweater, a glittered snowman plastered on the front. “Blaine, I do believe we have a winner here?” Kurt lifted the hanger by his index finger, balancing it in front of him, one hip cocked.
Blaine looked up and bounced to his feet, enveloping Kurt in a hug.
“This is so ugly, I’m going to cry. I cannot wait to wear it,” Blaine chuckled, squeezing tight.
Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine’s shoulders, resting his cheek atop his hair. “You’re so very welcome. Just as long as I’m not wearing it, I’m good.”
Blaine bought the sweater using crisp dollar bills, winking at the store clerk who shot him confused glances regarding his purchase. After buying the garment, they headed over towards Westerville for dinner with the Andersons.
A black car was parked in the street in front of the house, marked with foreign plates.
“Must be Cooper’s rental car,” Blaine suggested upon noticing Kurt’s demeanor. Blaine unlocked the front door, huffing out a breath as he unwound his scarf from around his neck
“Blainey!” a voice boomed from down the hall. A very tall and ridiculously good looking man ran up to Blaine, scooping him into a hug and ruffling his fingers through his hair. “Squirt, you’ve gotten so tall, my god. I haven’t seen you since you were this height” The man cheekily held his hand to his waist, laughing when he was met with a scowl from Blaine.
“Cooper, you saw me, like, six months ago,” Blaine deadpanned, hands slotting over his hips.
With a wink, Cooper replied, “I know.” He turned to Kurt, giving him a once over, before flashing an oh so dazzling smile and extending his hand. “Now, I think I know who you are, but why don’t you formally introduce yourself, handsome?”
Kurt tittered, fingers flying to his face as he vigorously shook Cooper’s hand. “Kurt Hummel, I’m Kurt Hummel. You’re from TV! Blaine, your brother’s from television.”
Rolling his eyes, Blaine gripped Cooper’s arm and pulled him away from Kurt. “Yeah, Cooper’s fully aware of his fame.” He led his brother and boyfriend towards the kitchen, where Mrs. Anderson was dishing out a saucepan of stir fried vegetables into a casserole dish as Mr. Anderson sat at the table, leg crossed and browsing the evening paper.
“Hello, boys,” Blaine’s father greeted, giving a curt nod above the paper. “How was school?”
“Fine,” Blaine answered, taking a seat at the table and motioning for Kurt to join. “Kurt and I needed to go to the thrift store to look for something.”
Blaine’s mother frowned as she sat down at the dining set, scooping a spoonful of rice onto her dinner plate. “Honey, don’t you think you own enough clothes? You didn’t go looking for more high waters, did you? I just found a bunch in your room when I was collecting your clothes for laundry.”
Kurt laughed, smiling politely as Blaine’s father poured him a glass of water. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Anderson, I wouldn’t let him purchase another pair. No, actually, Rachel is hosting a Christmas party with the theme of ugly holiday sweaters, so we were browsing around in the hopes of finding something of that nature.” He lifted his plate, accepting the piece of chicken Cooper dropped onto his plate with a disgustingly sappy smile. Upon Blaine’s disdainful look, Kurt cleared his throat before continuing. “We managed to find a wretched little number that Blaine will look positively dashing in.”
Absolutely preening, Blaine threaded his fingers with Kurt’s across the dinner table, grinning. “Truly, it is a masterpiece.”
Mr. Anderson hummed, looking at Blaine, carefully. “I trust that none of your funny business from the last party Rachel hosted will occur this year? Don’t think you can get out of trouble this year, Blaine. Frankly, your mother and I were a bit too lenient with your punishment, you’re lucky Kurt’s father was a gracious host.”
Blaine’s face blanched as Cooper snorted from across the table, setting his fork down with a clang.
“Dad,” Blaine whined, “it won’t happen again, I swear. Rachel isn’t even serving alcohol this year. Right, Kurt?”
Kurt waved his hand in front of his face, shoveling a forkful of snow peas and red peppers into his mouth.
“Wait, are you trying to tell me little Blainey over there got smashed at a chick’s house and ended up puking all over at his boyfriend’s house?” Cooper grinned that stupid shit-eating grin Blaine loathed and leaned back in his chair. “Wow, you’ve certainly changed, buddy. You’re a man, now.”
Blaine let out a groan of frustration, pursing his lips before taking a sip of water. “Can we not, seriously? It was one time, it’s not the end of the world. Dad, I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Alright sweetie,” Mrs. Anderson smiled saccharinely. “We trust you. But, you know you can always call us if you need a ride home. Or Cooper, I’m sure he’d be pleased to drive you home from your little party if you’re feeling too sick.”
“I would be delighted, mother,” Cooper answered. “Anything for my baby brother. And, of course, baby brother’s boyfriend.”
Kurt flushed as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Well, I’m done with dinner,” Blaine announced quickly, standing up and picking up his plate. “You wanna come up to my room, Kurt? Dinner was delicious, mom.” Blaine set his dishes into the dishwasher and shoved in his chair at the table.
Taking a final sip of his water, Kurt collected his dishes and headed towards the sink. “Thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson for having me over.”
Mr. Anderson smiled before wiping his lips with his napkin. “No trouble whatsoever, Kurt. You boys have fun upstairs. And, Blaine? Door open.”
“Dad,” Blaine groaned before storming out of the kitchen in an exit fitting of Miss. Berry herself.
Cooper’s harsh laughter drifted up the stairs as Kurt and Blaine headed towards Blaine’s bedroom. Defying all of the ground rules given to him, Blaine shut his door, flopping onto his bed. He made actual grabby hands at Kurt, pouting in an exaggerated manner before Kurt conceded, laughing as he joined Blaine’s side.
“You’re testing your limits, Mr. Anderson,” Kurt whispered, bumping his nose against Blaine’s. “If your father catches us in here, there will surely be hell to pay.”
Blaine wrapped his leg around Kurt’s hip and drew their bodies together, a surprised “oomph” falling from Kurt’s lips.
“I’m a rebel, baby,” Blaine crooned, pressing his lips against Kurt’s and pulling his arms around his boyfriend’s back so their bodies were perfectly slotted against one another.
Kurt sighed into the kiss, lacing his fingers through Blaine’s hair, slotting their mouths together perfectly. He tentatively ran his tongue along the seam of Blaine’s mouth, humming when the other boy allowed Kurt to enter.
Testing the waters, Blaine ever so gently shifted up his hips, rutting against the crotch of Kurt’s pants. Blaine was half hard already, and upon the realization that Kurt, too, was sporting the beginnings of an erection, Blaine moved a bit more fervently.
Kurt broke away from Blaine’s lips, moaning softly and tucking his face in the crook of Blaine’s neck, moving to suck the sensitive skin beneath his jaw.
“Kurt,” Blaine breathed, his grasp becoming firmer around the other boy’s body. He pinned Kurt against the mattress, stuttering his hips forward against Kurt, who responded by spreading his legs further apart and hooking his ankles together.
Quickly, Kurt began to whine against Blaine’s mouth, moving his own hips to meet the friction of Blaine’s. “Please,” Kurt whispered, sucking Blaine’s bottom lip into his mouth.
Blaine dragged his hand to Kurt’s waist, his fingers dusting along the edges of his jeans. He moved to thumb the button open between his fingers, when a slam from behind roused the boys away from each other.
“Squirt, Dad asked that your door remain open and here I was going to leave it closed, assuming the two of you would be up to wholesome, family activities. But, that was before I heard those porno moans from the room next door. Might wanna take it down a notch if you don’t want Mom and Dad finding you defiling your boyfriend in here.” Cooper leaned against the doorframe, smug grin firmly set across his lips.
Kurt and Blaine were flustered, adjusting their pants and moving pillows to the their crotches in the futile attempts of covering up their erections.
“You could have knocked as a warning,” Blaine spat out, his breaths coming out ragged.
Cooper cocked his head, a mocking tone in his voice. “Where would the fun be in that? Before I forget, little bro, I found this in my closet and you can totally wear it to your party if you want, as back up.” He leaned into the hall, pulling a sweater from the floor. He tossed it across the room to Blaine, who caught it gingerly between his fingers.
Kurt uttered a sound of surprise as Blaine unfolded the sweater, which, at first, seemed to be normal ski style with reindeers adorning the front, until he noticed the intricate details of the pattern.
“Are those reindeer...mounting each other?” Blaine asked, slowly? He turned up his nose, glaring up at his brother. “Why the hell do you own this?”
Cooper laughed, coming closer to Blaine’s bed. “I got it as a gag gift a couple years ago. Pretty neat, huh? I figured you might wanna wear it, given your fondness for such activities. Your actions in your bed are only proving my point, porn star. You can thank me later when you’re the talk of the party.”
“You’re disgusting,” Blaine scoffed, throwing the sweater at Cooper’s head. “I’m sticking with the snowman.”
Cooper shook his head, walking towards the hallway. “Your loss, Blaine. I’m keeping the door open, though. I’m in my 20s and I still can’t shut my bedroom door, no way a baby like you should get such privilege in the Anderson household.” He left the room, heading back towards his own bedroom.
Blaine slumped against the pillows, sighing exasperatingly. “This is my family. Welcome to my childhood, Kurt.”
Kurt clicked his tongue, running his fingers through the hair at Blaine’s temple. “I wish my brother was as gorgeous as yours,” he sighed, almost in lament.
“You’re sick,” Blaine said as he grabbed Kurt’s thigh and sliding it against his ribs.
---
Saturday evening at exactly seven o’clock on the dot, Kurt and Blaine arrived at the Berry household, a tray of sugar cookies in one hand and box of candy canes in the other.
Rachel answered the door promptly, shrieking as the boys walked into the foyer.
“You two look so good. Blaine, your sweater is utterly tacky and I have no remorse for telling you that sky blue is definitely not your colour.”
“Duly noted,” Blaine laughed, hanging up his coat on a hook and handing off the cookie tin to Rachel.
She turned to Kurt and looked puzzled, frowning a teensy bit. “Kurt, you look rather...elegant, for an ugly sweater party.” She eyed his off the shoulder, oversized, cowl necked red cable knit sweater with a crystal snowflake pinned to the front.
“Ugly sweaters are two words that do not mix in my vocabulary, Rachel. Who else is here?” Kurt asked opening the box of candy canes and helping himself to a stick.
Rachel led the boys down towards the basement, flourishing her arm. “As you can see, my loving Finn is here, along with Artie, Mercedes, Mike, and Tina. Join in, don’t be shy.”
Kurt and Blaine surveyed their friends, smiles creeping as they began to inspect the garish sweaters their friends were wearing. Tina and Mike had matching couples sweaters, with large, Santa Clauses stuck on the front. Mercedes’ sweater was kelly green and threaded with thick, gold glitter knitted in a snowflake pattern. Artie was wearing one of his normal holiday sweaters but had glued colourful sequins to emulate snowflakes. And Finn...was in a normal, plain t-shirt. Bless his heart for trying.
“Rachel, your sweater isn’t as ugly as I hoped,” Blaine commented, taking note of her white polar fleece sweater with a large, glittery Christmas tree displayed.
Giving a coy look, Rachel headed towards the base of the stairs and flicked off the light switch. She pulled a cord and button from up her sleeve and pressed, squealing as the lights on her Christmas tree actually lit up.
“Oh good lord,” Kurt gasped as Rachel twirled, LED light radiating from her body.
“I know, isn’t it delightful? I saw this sweater and just knew it would be my best suit. Now, let’s stop admiring me and start eating. Can I pour you boys some eggnog?” She moved to a card table set up with various refreshments, a gold brocade table cloth fancying up the display.
Blaine and Kurt moved to join Rachel, when she stopped the boys in their places. “Ah, ah, ah, you can’t go anywhere, you’re under the mistletoe,” she sang, clasping her hands in front of her body. The two looked up and yes, sure enough, there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.
“It is tradition,” Blaine shrugged, moving closer to Kurt. He smiled warmly, and when he caught Kurt’s approving eye, he gently placed a kiss upon Kurt’s lips, his eyelids fluttering shut. Kurt pushed back, accentuating the end with an audible muah.
“Merry Christmas, Kurt,” Blaine beamed, moving to intertwine his fingers with Kurt’s.
Kurt squeezed back, knocking his shoulder against Blaine’s. “Merry Christmas to you too.”