#constantcompanion

“No, not too long. Audrey was starfishing across the bed so it wouldn’t have been long before she pushed me out.”

“She still asleep?”

“Mmm hmm. Not too surprising. It was a late night for her.”

“And her body is probably still on L.A. time.” Blaine muses. 

“Never thought about kids getting jet-lag but you’re probably right.” Kurt nods in agreement. “Coffee? I’ve got a new blend that I brewed this morning.” 

“Gods yes. I take it the power came on again?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago, surprisingly. Which is a good thing as it was starting to get chilly in here. I had to break out my sweaters this morning.” He gestures to himself.

Blaine lets his gaze linger over Kurt, taking in the way the sweater stretched across his chest. “That is ... unfortunate.”

Kurt blushes and doesn’t look away for a long pregnant moment until Blaine ruins it when his stomach growls. “I’ve got batter for pancakes in the fridge. I was just waiting for you and Audrey to get up. Although,” he stammers, blushing even brighter, “I didn’t know if you were going to stay for breakfast or what your plans were.”

Oh right. His car. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Kurt chews his bottom lip. “Have you looked outside yet?”

“No,” Blaine replies. “Why?”

“It, um, snowed. A lot.” 

Blaine peeks out the window. A lot is an understatement. He can barely make out the dome of his buried car. Snow covers the streets and sidewalks and drapes heavily on sagging tree branches. 

Kurt rambles on. “The weather channel says that we got at least a foot of snow. And the plow usually doesn’t come until later in the day here, because we’re so far off the main roads, and it may not even come at all, given that it’s Christmas. Do you have to work today? I didn’t even think to ask. I’ve got a couple of shovels and I can call a tow truck.”

“Kurt.” He interrupts, “it’s fine. I have the next couple of days off, so if it takes a little while to get out of here, it’s not a big deal.”

“But what about your Christmas plans? I hate to see them get ruined.”

“I have no plans,” Blaine reassures him with a shrug. 

“You have no plans for Christmas? You were going to spend it alone?”

“Yeah,” Blaine shrugs again. “My parents are out of town and I usually work most Christmases. It’s not a big deal.”

Kurt seems to be considering something and stands up straighter. “Then, Blaine- oh gosh, I don’t even know your last name-”

“It’s Anderson. Blaine Anderson.”

“Blaine Anderson, would you like to stay and spend your Christmas with me? And Audrey?”

Blaine grins back. “I’d be honored to.” 

“Unca Kurt?” A little voice interrupts, as Audrey sleepily wraps her arms around her uncle’s legs.

Kurt leans down and easily picks her up. She buries her head into his neck, yawning widely. “Hi pumpkin,” he kisses the top of her head, “I’m so glad you’re awake because guess what?”

“What?” she asks breathlessly, waking up more.

He points out the window. “What do you think that is?”

She gasps in delight, her eyes widening. “Snow! Look, Unca Blaine, it snowed!”

Blaine’s heart seizes at the title. He should correct her. “It did, didn’t it? Lots of snow.”  

Kurt’s gaze is soft and fixed on Blaine, although he directs his answer to Audrey. “Lots of snow. You used to love snow when you were little. And,” he whispers in her ear, loud enough that Blaine can hear, “Santa came last night.”

“He did?” She twists in his arms, trying to see the Christmas tree in the other room. 

“Yep. But he left special instructions that you have to eat your breakfast first.” 

She pouts a little. “Okay.”

“Can you help me make the pancakes? Do you want a Mickey Mouse pancake?”

“No. Minnie. I want Minnie.”

Kurt gives an exaggerated sigh as he opens the batter out of the fridge. “You’re stretching my artist capabilities here, kiddo. Okay, blueberries or chocolate chips?”

“Choc’late chips.”

“Are you sure? Blueberries have vitamins and those will help you become big and strong.”

“Choc’late chips!”

“Chocolate chips! Duh, Unca Kurt.” Blaine sasses.

“Duh, Unca Kurt,” Audrey echos perfectly. 

“Oh, so that’s how it is, both of you ganging up on me. Fine, we’ll have choc’late chips.” He pokes her in the belly before setting her down. “Grab that chair and bring it over and I’ll show you how to make perfect pancakes. Blaine, would you mind grabbing the eggs and cheese out of the fridge? We can make a quick scramble to go with our chocolate pancakes.”

It feels too perfect, watching Kurt teach Audrey how to use a spatula (“gotta wait until you see the bubbles in the center. See? That’s it, just slide it under,”) while directing Blaine to the bowls and spices. Kurt’s kitchen is neat and organized, stainless appliances with golden accents to give them warmth. It perfectly suits him and Blaine sees visions of shared mornings together: drinking coffee at the island, cooking at the stove with Blaine wrapping his arms around Kurt as he stirs, a lingering kiss goodbye as they depart for their day. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, but for once, he allows himself his daydreams and trusts the surety that settles as he watches Kurt and Audrey. He’s never felt like this about anybody before and the ever-present smile on Kurt’s face and his frequent glances over his shoulder tell him that Kurt isn’t immune to this burgeoning gravitation either. So when Kurt brings over the eggs and pancakes to the island, Blaine slides his chair a little closer to Kurt and tangles his ankle between Kurt’s feet, not missing the sharp intake of surprise. Kurt leans just a little more into Blaine’s side. 

 Audrey’s impatient the moment the last bit of food has been chewed. “Santa! Santa! Santa!” She screams and jumps up and down, tugging on Kurt’s arm. “Let’s goooooo.”

“Whoa, give me a sec to put the dishes away. Tell you what,” he picks up his phone, “call your mommy now and then she can watch you open your presents. How does that sound? Tap that button there, that’ll turn on the video.”

“I know how to use a phone,” she protests and wrestles his phone away, pushing the buttons to connect the video.

Kurt shakes his head at Blaine. “Kids these days.” 

“Mommy!” She greets the video. 

“Hi, baby girl,” a voice echoes through the air, “oh, how I’ve missed you! Have you grown any bigger?”

“You just saw me yest’rday!” Audrey giggles. “I’m the same size!” 

“Have you been behaving for your Uncle Kurt?” Rachel asks. 

“Uh huh.” 

Kurt puts away the breakfast remnants while Audrey talks. Blaine gathers together the plates and cups, depositing them into the sink. “Thanks,” Kurt mouths, and they follow Audrey into the living room. 

“And Santa brought all of the presents, except for baby sister, because Unca Kurt says she’s not grow’d yet, right Mommy? And Unca Kurt made me and Unca Blaine hot choc’late last night and it tasted so good and he gave me five marshmallows and I got a little scared, but Unca Kurt said you were sleeping and I shouldn’t call you. Were you sleeping, Mommy?”

“I was, baby. Your baby sister needs lots of rest. But who’s Uncle Blaine?”

“Oh!” She jumps up and hands the phone over to Blaine, who stares at it in shock. “Say hi to Mommy, Unca Blaine.”

“Kurt.” Rachel seethes, her face and voice suddenly sharp. “Who is that? Did you have one of your man whores over with my daughter there?”

“Uh.” Blaine says.

The phone is snatched out of his hand before he can say more. “Rachel Berry, you stop that. I have never, not once, had a “man whore,” which is more than you can say. Excuse me,” he says to Blaine politely and then stalks out of the room to the kitchen, “may I remind you about Brody’s naked ass on my vintage chairs?” 

 Audrey looks nonplussed at the argument and climbs up on the couch next to Blaine, swinging her legs. “Did, uh, did you want to go get Drizzle?” Blaine asks, “I bet he’d like to see you open your presents.”

“Oh! I forgot Drizzle!” She runs out of the room. 

Blaine runs his hand through his curls. He can’t make out what Kurt’s saying to Rachel, but Rachel’s a harsh reminder that he and Blaine are just a little more than strangers. 

Audrey runs back in, dragging Drizzle behind, as Kurt comes back in. “Rachel would like to meet you,” he says to Blaine, holding out the phone. “She’ll behave this time.”

He takes it somewhat gingerly. “Blaine? Kurt says that you brought my daughter’s toy to her? She’s had Drizzle since she was a toddler and he means so much to her, so thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome,” he runs his hands through his hair again. 

“And the fact you did it in a snowstorm and are now stuck and ruining your Christmas, well, you should send me your address and I’ll send you an autographed photo. Pre-pregnancy, of course.”

“That won’t be necessary, Rachel.” Kurt calls out. He’s sitting at the end of the couch, curled around himself, and Blaine feels every bit of the distance between them. 

Audrey grabs the phone out of Blaine’s hand. “Can we open presents now?” she demands and the attention quickly turns back to her.

Anxiety swirls in the pit of Blaine’s stomach and he has trouble concentrating on Audrey’s excitement as she rips open one present after another. He feels a little like the worthless, discarded paper that Audrey is shredding and he so desperately wants to escape. 

“Here.” Kurt stands in front of him, holding out a small box, chewing on his lip that Blaine already recognizes as a nervous tick. “Merry Christmas.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing, really. I bought it months ago, but um, it never really fit me, and, um, it reminds me of you.” His hands are warm when they graze Blaine’s handing over the wrapped gift. 

Blaine carefully parts the shiny paper and folds the box lid back. Inside, he finds a white and golden brown bowtie with clocks printed on the silky fabric. He touches it gently, rubbing the soft fabric between his fingers.

“You were wearing a bowtie with your uniform yesterday and you- you just looked like the kind of man who would appreciate a good neck accessory.” 

“Kurt,” he breaths, finally looking up at Kurt, unable to find the words that express his emotions. “It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.” 

Kurt’s smile is small but steady. He drops gracefully beside Blaine on the couch, leaving no space between them. He squeezes Blaine’s knee, leaving his hand there so his warmth seeps into Blaine’s core. “Merry Christmas, Blaine.”