We All Need a Little Christmas (Klaine)
Title: We Need a Little Christmas
Author: heroes_and_cons
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (Glee)
Rating: PG
A/N: Not my best because I'm fried from finals but I really wanted to get some Klaine fic down. Also, I'm completely pulling all of Blaine's backstory stuff out of my ass.
“Favorite thing about Christmas.”
Blaine sighs and stretches out on the sofa, locking his hands behind his head and gazing towards the ceiling. He doesn’t have very many things he likes about Christmas, but he doesn’t want to be that guy. “My mom’s food.” He glances up at Kurt. “How about you?”
Kurt shrugs, gingerly brushing a few stray hairs away from his eyes. “All of the spirit, I guess,” he says. “All of the decorations and the music and the cheesy movies they play on a loop all Christmas day.”
“I think I can quote Home Alone verbatim, just from having seen it a million times on Christmas,” Blaine laughs.
Kurt sighs and leans his head back on the couch. “Okay, don’t make fun of me,” he says. “But for that one day of the year, I kind of like to believe in Santa.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow. “Really.”
“It’s dumb, I know,” Kurt smiles. “But I realized Santa wasn’t real when I was still pretty young, and I thought that it was kind of nice to think about this fat, jolly guy with reindeer leaving presents for everyone.”
“No, that’s completely rational,” Blaine smirks, sitting up.
“Shut up,” Kurt says, leaning against Blaine’s shoulder.
Despite the fact that they have been official - Blaine still occasionally stumbles over that word - for a few months now, neither of them are that comfortable with overt PDA. But the common room is deserted, so Blaine leans over and gently kisses Kurt’s temple.
Kurt smiles and intertwines his fingers with Blaine’s. “When did you find out that Santa Claus isn’t real?”
“I was eight years old,” Blaine says, a little surprised with himself that he can remember all of the details so well. “It was Christmas Eve, and we had a tradition where we’d bake cookies to leave out for Santa. But my brother was thirteen and just wanted to watch TV. I kept bugging him about it - ‘Alex, come on, we have to make cookies for Santa!’ - and he became more and more irritated until he said something like, ‘Blaine, stop being dumb, Santa isn’t real.’”
“You never told me you had a brother.”
Blaine shrugs and untangles his hand from Kurt’s. “Now you know,” he murmurs. He can feel the heat of Kurt’s gaze on him, and despite himself, he blushes fervently. “What?” He says, glancing up.
“You want to tell me about him?”
“There’s not much to tell,” Blaine says.
“Blaine,” Kurt says in a voice - that voice, the one that makes it sound as though Blaine is guilty of something. “Tell me about him. How old is he? What does he do?”
Blaine sighs, trying to sound as exasperated as possible, even though it’s hard for Kurt to thoroughly annoy him. “He’s twenty-two. He graduated from Johns Hopkins and he’s studying at Harvard Law now.”
Kurt nods. “Wow. He sounds like a very-”
“He got a full ride to Johns Hopkins,” Blaine continues. “Not that he really needed it. He graduated with honors and got money to Harvard, too. And he’s been dating this girl, Katie, for almost three years - she used to be a model when she was a teenager, one of those beautiful girls who also happens to be smart and funny and talented.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, half-smiling. “You don’t want to date Katie, do you?”
Blaine shakes his head, ignoring the attempted joke. “That’s not the point, Kurt,” he mutters. “Alex got a perfect score on his SATs without trying. He played varsity football as a high school freshman. He could play five different instruments and speak three languages fluently. He was the one that my mom would always point out to the other parents, the one she would brag about. Alex has everything - no, not even that, he has everything handed to him. On a jewel-encrusted silver platter.”
Blaine stands up and walks across the room, leaning against the frame of a floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, it’s started to snow, fat flakes flitting down from the gray sky and sticking to the ground.
“You know what? Despite all of that - despite my parents constantly holding me up to his standards and comparing us, despite all of his luck - I’d still love him. He’s my brother.” Blaine presses his forehead against the windowpane and watches his breath fog up the glass. “But once, I went to one of his football games. I saw the things he’d do when no one was really paying attention, or maybe they just chose not to see it - the way he’d push around one of the band kids, call him a faggot with a tiny dick. Or the way he ruined my Christmas as an eight-year-old. He was a bully, just like the ones I never stood up to.”
Kurt gingerly touches Blaine’s arm, and he jumps, not having heard Kurt stand up. Kurt smiles and locks his arms behind Blaine’s neck. “You’re really dense sometimes, but it’s kind of endearing.”
“What?”
“You’re so focused on your brother that you can’t see how…what a great, wonderful person you are!” Kurt says. “Blaine, you’re like every guy’s dream. Gay or straight,” he smirks. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and you have more talent in one fingernail than most guys have in their entire bodies.”
Blaine furrows his brow stubbornly. “Did you not hear that entire spiel? About the way he would-”
“I know,” Kurt says softly. “But instead of focusing on the things he did or the things you could have done, you could be thinking about how awesome you are.”
Blaine rests his hands on Kurt’s hips and grins. “I might need you to remind me about that every now and then.”
Kurt tangles his fingers in the back of Blaine’s hair and kisses him, long and soft. He pulls back and presses his cheek against Blaine’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of fabric softener and cinnamon.
“I guess it is kind of nice to think about a jolly old fat guy with reindeer who leaves presents for everyone,” Blaine says after a moment.
“I told you so,” Kurt laughs.
Author: heroes_and_cons
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (Glee)
Rating: PG
A/N: Not my best because I'm fried from finals but I really wanted to get some Klaine fic down. Also, I'm completely pulling all of Blaine's backstory stuff out of my ass.
“Favorite thing about Christmas.”
Blaine sighs and stretches out on the sofa, locking his hands behind his head and gazing towards the ceiling. He doesn’t have very many things he likes about Christmas, but he doesn’t want to be that guy. “My mom’s food.” He glances up at Kurt. “How about you?”
Kurt shrugs, gingerly brushing a few stray hairs away from his eyes. “All of the spirit, I guess,” he says. “All of the decorations and the music and the cheesy movies they play on a loop all Christmas day.”
“I think I can quote Home Alone verbatim, just from having seen it a million times on Christmas,” Blaine laughs.
Kurt sighs and leans his head back on the couch. “Okay, don’t make fun of me,” he says. “But for that one day of the year, I kind of like to believe in Santa.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow. “Really.”
“It’s dumb, I know,” Kurt smiles. “But I realized Santa wasn’t real when I was still pretty young, and I thought that it was kind of nice to think about this fat, jolly guy with reindeer leaving presents for everyone.”
“No, that’s completely rational,” Blaine smirks, sitting up.
“Shut up,” Kurt says, leaning against Blaine’s shoulder.
Despite the fact that they have been official - Blaine still occasionally stumbles over that word - for a few months now, neither of them are that comfortable with overt PDA. But the common room is deserted, so Blaine leans over and gently kisses Kurt’s temple.
Kurt smiles and intertwines his fingers with Blaine’s. “When did you find out that Santa Claus isn’t real?”
“I was eight years old,” Blaine says, a little surprised with himself that he can remember all of the details so well. “It was Christmas Eve, and we had a tradition where we’d bake cookies to leave out for Santa. But my brother was thirteen and just wanted to watch TV. I kept bugging him about it - ‘Alex, come on, we have to make cookies for Santa!’ - and he became more and more irritated until he said something like, ‘Blaine, stop being dumb, Santa isn’t real.’”
“You never told me you had a brother.”
Blaine shrugs and untangles his hand from Kurt’s. “Now you know,” he murmurs. He can feel the heat of Kurt’s gaze on him, and despite himself, he blushes fervently. “What?” He says, glancing up.
“You want to tell me about him?”
“There’s not much to tell,” Blaine says.
“Blaine,” Kurt says in a voice - that voice, the one that makes it sound as though Blaine is guilty of something. “Tell me about him. How old is he? What does he do?”
Blaine sighs, trying to sound as exasperated as possible, even though it’s hard for Kurt to thoroughly annoy him. “He’s twenty-two. He graduated from Johns Hopkins and he’s studying at Harvard Law now.”
Kurt nods. “Wow. He sounds like a very-”
“He got a full ride to Johns Hopkins,” Blaine continues. “Not that he really needed it. He graduated with honors and got money to Harvard, too. And he’s been dating this girl, Katie, for almost three years - she used to be a model when she was a teenager, one of those beautiful girls who also happens to be smart and funny and talented.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, half-smiling. “You don’t want to date Katie, do you?”
Blaine shakes his head, ignoring the attempted joke. “That’s not the point, Kurt,” he mutters. “Alex got a perfect score on his SATs without trying. He played varsity football as a high school freshman. He could play five different instruments and speak three languages fluently. He was the one that my mom would always point out to the other parents, the one she would brag about. Alex has everything - no, not even that, he has everything handed to him. On a jewel-encrusted silver platter.”
Blaine stands up and walks across the room, leaning against the frame of a floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, it’s started to snow, fat flakes flitting down from the gray sky and sticking to the ground.
“You know what? Despite all of that - despite my parents constantly holding me up to his standards and comparing us, despite all of his luck - I’d still love him. He’s my brother.” Blaine presses his forehead against the windowpane and watches his breath fog up the glass. “But once, I went to one of his football games. I saw the things he’d do when no one was really paying attention, or maybe they just chose not to see it - the way he’d push around one of the band kids, call him a faggot with a tiny dick. Or the way he ruined my Christmas as an eight-year-old. He was a bully, just like the ones I never stood up to.”
Kurt gingerly touches Blaine’s arm, and he jumps, not having heard Kurt stand up. Kurt smiles and locks his arms behind Blaine’s neck. “You’re really dense sometimes, but it’s kind of endearing.”
“What?”
“You’re so focused on your brother that you can’t see how…what a great, wonderful person you are!” Kurt says. “Blaine, you’re like every guy’s dream. Gay or straight,” he smirks. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and you have more talent in one fingernail than most guys have in their entire bodies.”
Blaine furrows his brow stubbornly. “Did you not hear that entire spiel? About the way he would-”
“I know,” Kurt says softly. “But instead of focusing on the things he did or the things you could have done, you could be thinking about how awesome you are.”
Blaine rests his hands on Kurt’s hips and grins. “I might need you to remind me about that every now and then.”
Kurt tangles his fingers in the back of Blaine’s hair and kisses him, long and soft. He pulls back and presses his cheek against Blaine’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of fabric softener and cinnamon.
“I guess it is kind of nice to think about a jolly old fat guy with reindeer who leaves presents for everyone,” Blaine says after a moment.
“I told you so,” Kurt laughs.