Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.


December 31, 1993

Burt stroked his wife's soft hair. "You're sure you don't want to go to bed?" he asked.

Mollie batted playfully at his hand. "I'm fine, Burt," she said. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

They fell silent, watching the televised crowds waiting for the ball to drop. The television blared quietly as Mollie leaned her head back against Burt's shoulder and rested her hands on her round belly. "You sure you're doing okay?" he asked.

Mollie smiled. "He's moving a little," she said.

Burt sat up. "Seriously?" he said.

"I'm serious, feel," she said.

She took his hand and placed it over her belly. Burt waited, then smiled. "Jeez, that kid can kick," he said.

"You're telling me," Mollie said. She patted her belly. "What are we going to name him?"

"Something that isn't too weird," Burt said. "Something sensible. Like…John."

Mollie wrinkled her nose. "John?" she repeated. "That's so plain."

"Okay, well, how about Thomas?" he offered. "That's a family name."

"That's boring," Mollie said. "I like Gabriel."

"Isn't that a girl's name?" Burt said.

Mollie tilted her head back. "Oh, come on, that's my favorite name," she complained. "It's so...angelic."

"It's so girly," Burt said. "Besides, Gabriel Hummel doesn't sound all that great."

Mollie huffed, blowing a lock of chestnut hair out of her eyes. "You keep vetoing all my names," she pouted. "I might have to pull out my emergency list."

Burt folded his arms. "What's on the emergency list?" he asked warily.

Mollie smiled wickedly. "Every boy name from the Sound of Music," she said.

"You're kidding me," Burt said. "I knew I should've hidden that tape. You watch it way too much."

"There are plenty of good names," she said. "You know…Rolf..."

"Isn't that the thing from the Muppets?"

"…George…"

"We are not naming our son 'gayog'."

"…Friedrich…"

"No."

"…Kurt…"

Burt paused. Mollie sat up. "You like Kurt?" she said.

"It's not half bad," he admitted. "And if you don't want to name him Burt Thomas Hummel Junior-"

"Which I don't-"

"…then maybe naming him Kurt would be pretty good," Burt said.

Mollie smiled and patted her hand on her round belly. "Kurt Hummel," she mused. "Kurt Gabriel Hummel."

"Hey, I'm okay with Kurt, but don't try sneaking Gabriel in there," Burt protested.

The crowd on the television suddenly increased in volume as they started chanting down the countdown. "Happy new year," Mollie said.

Burt kissed her gently. "Happy new year, honey," he said.

"Next year, we'll have our son with us," Mollie said. "Our little Kurt."

December 31, 1998

"Kurt Elijah Hummel."

He whipped back around the corner.

"Kurt, didn't Daddy put you to bed already?"

His blue blanket trailed into the hallway; he grabbed it quickly and yanked it back into his hiding place.

"Kurt, I saw that."

He hid behind the corner, but before he had a chance to dash back up the stairs and into the safety of his bed, his mother caught him. "Why are you out of bed, little man?" Mollie asked.

Four-year-old Kurt squirmed under her gaze. "I wanted to see new year," he said.

Mollie smiled and picked him up, blanket and all; he promptly latched his arms around her neck. "You're too little, baby," she said. "It was your bedtime two hours ago."

"Can't sleep," he said. He leaned back in her arms. "Can I stay up? Please, Mommy?"

Mollie kissed his dimpled cheek. "Just a little bit," she relented. "But you have to be good, all right? And when I put you to bed, you're going to stay in bed. Promise?"

"Promise," he said.

Mollie settled him on her hip and carried him into the living room. Burt glanced over the back of his armchair. "Scooter, what are you doing up?" he said. "You putting him back to bed, Moll?"

"Mommy said I could stay up," Kurt announced.

"For a little bit," Mollie corrected. She sat down on the couch with Kurt on her lap. "You have to be good though, okay?"

"I'll be good," he said. He put the middle and ring fingers of his left hand in his little mouth. Mollie laughed and smoothed his hair down.

The three Hummels watched the New Year's Eve special on television for the rest of the night. True to his word, Kurt was very good, but somehow both he and his mother managed to fall asleep before the ball dropped.

Mollie woke up as the first rays of the new year's sunshine filtered through the windows. She was lying on the couch with Kurt curled up tightly against her side with one arm draped over her stomach. One small hand clutched his precious blue baby blanket in a death grip. Mollie smiled as she hugged him closer and kissed his warm, sleep-flushed cheeks.

"Happy new year, baby," she murmured.

December 31, 2002

Kurt kept to himself in the corner of the living room. Their other relatives talked loudly; Uncle Andy was telling some kind of story about his last hunting trip. His various cousins ran around, shrieking like banshees while they played with the new toys they'd gotten for Christmas.

Kurt hated going to Iowa to visit his relatives. He knew his mother had too. She usually managed to talk Burt out of road trips to the Hummel homestead, and he always appreciated it. His grandparents were nice and they loved him, but his aunts and uncles were always so loud and treated him like a child, and his cousins were mostly wild kids that played far too rough for his tastes.

So he sat by himself in the corner of the living room with his new illustrated copy of Peter Pan opened on his knees. It was exactly the one he wanted, with the pretty oil paintings. And if he focused carefully enough, he could hear his mother's voice in his ear, reading the story aloud.

"Kurt, whatcha doing?"

He looked up to see his oldest cousin, eleven-year-old Adam, leaning over him with his new football under his arm. He shrank back and closed the book. "Just reading," he said.

Adam grabbed the book. "Reading what?" he said. "Peter Pan? That's so gay."

Kurt reached for his present. "Give it back," he said.

Adam dangled it over his head. "Jump for it," he teased.

"No, just give it back, please," Kurt pleaded.

"Or what, you gonna tell your mom on me?" Adam taunted.

Kurt lunged for him. "Give it back!" he screamed.

Adam smacked him on the forehead. "You gonna make me?" he said.

"He might, but I will."

Burt cuffed Adam sharply on the shoulder and snatched the book out of his hands, thrusting it back in Kurt's arms. "Uncle Burt, I-"

"Yeah, you go on and tell your dad what you just did," Burt said. "You do not touch my son. You got that?"

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah," he mumbled.

Kurt hugged the book and hid behind his father. "Now, you got something to say to Kurt?" his father said.

"Sorry," Adam mumbled.

Burt gave him a push back towards the adults. "Yeah, you ought to be sorry," he said. He hunched down and put his hands on Kurt's round cheeks. "Y'okay, scooter?"

Kurt clutched his book. "I want Mom," he whispered.

Burt pushed his hair away from his forehead, looking at the round red mark. "Kiddo, she can't…she can't be here," he said helplessly.

"I want Mom," Kurt said. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I want my mom."

Burt picked him up easily and carried him over to the vacant couch. He sat down and cradled Kurt in his lap. Kurt buried his face in his father's broad shoulder. "I know," Burt said, his voice thick. "I know you want her. I miss her too."

Kurt cried silently in his father's arms while the adults carried on their New Year's Eve party, sipping beers and spiked punch while cracking noisy jokes. Burt rubbed the back of Kurt's neck as they shouted the countdown to the next year.

"Some new year, isn't it, kid?" Burt murmured in Kurt's ear.

December 31, 2009

Kurt balanced his tupperware container in one hand and rang the doorbell with the other. "It's open, come on in!" he heard a voice call.

He nudged the glass door open and stepped tentatively into Tina's house. "I'm in the right place, yes?" he called.

Tina ran around the corner in fluorescent purple and black striped pajama pants and a black tee shirt. "You're right," she laughed. "Oh, did you bring stuff?"

He waved the tupperware container. "Sugar cookies," he said. "Not very fancy, but they're pretty good."

She took the container and kissed him on the cheek. "Come on, we're all in the rec room," she said.

He followed her down the stairs to Tina's basement. The rest of the pajama-clad glee club sprawled over the couches, watching Princess Bride. "Hey, everybody, Kurt's here," Tina said.

"Hey, Kurt," they chorused as he slid off his shoes and set his bag in the pile on the floor.

"Hey, everybody," he said.

Mercedes scooted over to make room for him between herself and Quinn. "Come on, it's the best part," she said.

"We're at the marriage scene already?" Kurt asked as he plunked down beside them with his legs tucked under him.

"Sh!" Quinn said, waving her hand towards him with her eyes glued on the screen. "I've never seen this before."

"Seriously?" Kurt said. "What rock have you been living under?"

"Sh, I haven't seen it either," Finn said, flailing his hands in excitement.

Kurt threw his hands up in the air. "What am I going to do with you?" he said.

"Kurt, you look so cute in your pajamas," Brittany said. "I just want to put you in my pocket and keep you forever."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Uh…thanks?" he said.

"Sh!" Rachel scolded. "This is an important part!"

Kurt nestled between Mercedes and Quinn, hugging a sofa pillow to his chest. His dad had been a little leery of letting him spend New Year's Eve at a sleepover, but Tina's parents were both home and besides, it wasn't like the Hummels ever did anything for New Year's. Usually they just watched whatever marathon was on television, stayed up till the digital clock in the kitchen turned to midnight, flipped the calendar page, and went to bed.

This was definitely more fun.

They switched to Hook after Princess Bride finished, as Tina had declared it to be the night of classic fantasy movies, despite Puck's desperate arguing for something that included machine guns and gratuitous violence. The twelve of them raided the snacks that were spread out over the pool table- Kurt's cookies were gone in a few hours- and amused themselves with tossing popcorn at each other across the room.

They were halfway through Stardust when Tina scrambled for the remote and paused the movie. "You guys, it's almost midnight," she said.

Artie whipped his phone out of his pocket. "It's 11:58," he reported.

"Everyone have their resolutions ready?" Mike asked.

Kurt brushed his hair off his forehead. "I don't make resolutions, they're stupid," he said.

"My resolution is to win regionals," Rachel announced.

Santana threw a pillow at her. "Your resolution ought to be 'grow five more inches and get boobs'," she snickered.

"It's almost midnight," Finn said.

Artie held up his fingers. "Three…two…one…happy new year, y'all!"

Mercedes leaned over and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "Happy new year," she said.

He returned the kiss and smiled. This year was already better than he thought it could be. This time last year, he was a loner who ate lunch alone. Now he was surrounded by friends.

December 31, 2010

Kurt carefully placed his full plate on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. This was a fantastic New Year's Eve, in his opinion. Sure, he was by himself, but there were worst things, right?

He reached for his fork when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and accepted the call without checking. "'lo, Kurt Hummel," he said absently.

"Hey, Kurt."

Kurt dropped his fork. "Oh, Blaine," he said. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm great," Blaine said, sounding amused. "My parents are throwing a party, which means fantastic food but a lot of really boring people from their work are everywhere. They keep asking me about school and if I'm dating a nice girl."

"Oh?" Kurt said, toying with his fork. "What do you say to that?"

"Usually my parents interrupt and say something about how I haven't found the right boy yet. It's pretty amusing to see their reactions," Blaine said. "Either that or Francey says 'you asked him last year, don't you remember he's gay, here, have a rum ball."

Kurt laughed. "Your sister is hilarious," he said.

"That's because you don't have to live with her," Blaine sighed. "So, how's your evening going? All sorts of thrilling things going on?"

"Not really," Kurt said. "I have the house to myself. Finn's over at Puck's place, and my parents are out at a party for Carole's work."

"So what have you been doing?" Blaine asked. "Moping?"

"No, actually, I took a very nice bubble bath and made myself a nice dinner," Kurt said.

"Bubble bath, hm?"

Kurt was intensely grateful that Blaine couldn't see him blushing over the phone. "Well, I can't take one at Dalton, and if I take one at home it means that Finn inevitably walks in on me, and trust me, that's awkward for everyone," he said.

Blaine laughed. "I guess so," he said. "So do you have your resolution picked out for this year?"

"Oh, I don't do those," Kurt said. "I think it's a little juvenile to wait until the new year to start a new goal."

"Ouch," Blaine said. "Remind me not to show you my New Year's journal."

Kurt choked. "You have a what?"

"I kind of make a big deal out of my new year's resolutions," Blaine said. "I've had mine set for a couple of months now. They're kind of fun. Sure you don't want to make one of your own?"

Kurt sighed. "Perhaps," he said. He got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen counter. There was a notepad and pen by the phone; he ripped off a blank page. "I suppose I could think of something."

"Trust me, it's fun," Blaine said.

Kurt smiled and trailed the pen over the paper. "It's almost midnight," he said.

"You're right," Blaine said. "I've probably got to get back to the party. My parents are going to notice I've vanished, and if I don't come back they'll send Francey in after me."

"Well, happy early new year, then," Kurt smiled.

"You too," Blaine said. "And you keep thinking about that resolution, all right?"

"Oh, I will," Kurt said. "I will."

"We're still on for next weekend, right?" he said.

"Westchester Mall with you and Mercedes, oh yes," Kurt said.

"Then I'll see you then," Blaine said. "Bye, Kurt."

"Bye," he said. Kurt ended the call and set his phone down on the counter. He smiled at his cursive handwriting swirled across the paper.

Resolution for 2011: have my first (real) kiss

December 31, 2011

"Please don't tell me you're really falling asleep. It's only eleven thirty."

He cracked open one eye. "I'm not asleep," he objected.

Blaine leaned over the arm of the couch and smiled. "Yes, you are," he said. "How can you manage to sleep with all this noise going on? The New Directions versus Warblers rock band battle is getting pretty intense."

"I'm kind of tired," Kurt mumbled.

Blaine placed a soft kiss on Kurt's forehead. "Sit up. Make some room for me." Kurt obeyed, rubbing the sides of his nose and yawning. "The baby's been keeping everyone awake lately," he said.

Blaine sat down beside him and wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "They tend to do that," he said. "But you've got to admit, Emily's very cute."

"She is," Kurt conceded, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder. "I'm going to be sad when I leave for college in the fall. She'll grow up so fast."

Blaine smoothed his fingers through the shorter, silky hair at the nape of Kurt's neck. "Is that why you haven't applied to any schools outside of Ohio?" he asked quietly.

Kurt froze. "Well, I haven't really finished applying," he stammered.

"Finn said you threw away the application to Julliard," Blaine said, locking his dark eyes on Kurt's; he wasn't able to pull away. "And your NYU application is still sitting on your desk."

Kurt shrank. "I just don't know if it's a very good idea," he said. "Those schools are so expensive, and they're so far away, and-"

"Kurt, none of the other schools you've applied to have a decent arts program," Blaine said. "What are you going to major in?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know," he hedged.

"Well, didn't you decide when you were nine that you were going to be a vocal performance major with a minor in fashion?" Blaine teased. "Have you just given up on that?"

Kurt glanced away. Blaine put his hand on the small of his back. "Are you serious?" he said.

"Those programs are so competitive," Kurt whispered. "And I hate auditions, you know that. I just don't think…I'll make it."

Blaine rubbed the small of Kurt's back. "You won't know until you try," he said. "And I think you're selling yourself short. You're so talented. You need to try." He kissed Kurt lightly on the temple. "You can make it your resolution for the year. Apply to the colleges you've always dreamed about."

Kurt blinked. "I need to get new copies of the applications," he said.

Blaine elbowed him lightly. "I gave them to Finn," he said. "Now you don't have an excuse to not fulfill your new year's resolution."

Kurt tapped the tip of Blaine's nose. "You and your resolutions," he said.

"You know, you never told me what you picked for last year," Blaine said. His arm snaked around Kurt's waist and tugged him closer.

Their friends switched the widescreen television from Rock Band to the countdown in Times Square. The couple sidled closer to each other; those who were still single cracked jokes about them sucking face and chanted the countdown. "Three…two…one!"

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine softly on the lips. Blaine kissed him back, his mouth warm and soft and firm against his. Kurt smiled against the kiss and pulled back a little. "All I'll say is…I achieved it," he whispered.

Blaine leaned closer and trailed kisses down the side of his neck. "Really?" he murmured.

"Mm-hm," Kurt smiled, shivering a little bit at the soft touches on his skin. "And you'll be happy to know you helped."

"Really?" Blaine said. He kept his arm around Kurt's waist and tilted his chin towards him. "I'm glad I could be useful."

Kurt closed his eyes as televised crowds cheered and his friends laughed and his boyfriend kissed him soundly. "I love you," he whispered into Blaine's mouth, and Blaine held him close.


Author's Notes:

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WARBLERS vs. NEW DIRECTIONS ROCK BAND PARTY I HAVE TO WRITE THIS.

Anyways. Ahem.

It's 8:51 pm my time, and I have the apartment to myself! Bubble bath, fancy dinner for one (steak and mashed potatoes and rolls and salad and cheesecake, have I mentioned I'm a good cook?), hard cider, and Glee. HAPPY NEW YEAR, Y'ALL!

Also, Gabriel is totally on my list of baby names. Gabriel Charles Brent *extremely unusual Cornish last name redacted.* I think Kurt would have been a cute Gabriel.

The Peter Pan edition Kurt is reading is the one illustrated by Scott Gustafson. Google it and die of the gorgeosity.

I really should write while slightly tipsy more often. It's kind of fun. Don't worry, kids, I'm 23 and legit.

Anyways. HAPPY 2011 EVERYONE! May your year be awesome, and hopefully full of Klaine.