Title: Eccentricities, Strange Habits, and Confusing Rituals
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Major Fluff, OMC, OFC
Word Count: 7,010 (the most I've ever written for a one-shot!) Spoilers: If you've seen up to The Superbowl Episode, you are fine! Goes a little AU after that, so NO JEREMIAH! ;) Disclaimer: How I do wish Glee was mine. Alas, it belongs to another. =(
Summary: As Kurt becomes more comfortable in Dalton life, he starts to see that everybody has their own special habits and traditions. What will he do when he find out the ones that Blaine has been hiding? AU after the Superbowl episode.
Notes: It's amazing what ideas you get when prompted with Tea Party and Chocolate! This was written for the Kiss Kiss Klaine Valentine's Exchange for the Kurt_Blaine community over at livejournal. I hope you enjoy! =D

After a few months of going to Dalton Academy, Kurt started to notice that his classmates had strange...habits.

Aside from the Warbler's tradition of giving the newest member a legacy canary to take care of, and other such things that would seem appropriate for private school boys, and boarders, like how it was a clear understanding to everyone that you were to wear shower shoes while you in the showers, or how some boys would place a tie on their doorknob to alert others that they were in need of privacy, after getting more comfortable with his new surrounding, and getting to know the individuals of his new school, Kurt started to notice things, and see repeating patterns.

Nobody ate the meatloaf on Thursdays.

If anyone in the cafeteria spilled salt, everyone froze, everyone, and didn't move until the offender threw some over his shoulder.

Boys would rub the bald head of the bust statue of William Shakespeare on the third floor, the day before they were to have a major test.

All of these things were done without question, just like many used to do things back at his old school, like put an extra change of clothes in their lockers, or take the scenic route if a bunch of Jocks were walking down the hallway towards English class.

It was strange , yes, but it was learned routine. They were in-ground traditions that made up everyday life at Dalton Academy.

It didn't take long for Kurt to find himself absentmindedly rubbing his fingers on the bust, while on his way to the library, to study.

In no time at all, he froze along with the rest of his new friends when salt was spilled, or threw it over his shoulder if he was the one to cause the shaker to tip over.

He never ate the meatloaf, period, so he never had to worry about eating it on Thursdays.

It wasn't that he was a mindless drone now, or that he actually went with the flow with these new traditions.
While it was nice to feel like he was starting to carve his notch in Dalton life, the main reason he did any of those things, was because when he did, it made Blaine smile, and hold his hand just a little tighter. While they were nothing more than really good friends, Kurt fell harder for the dapper boy every day, and lived to see the grin that was reserved only for him.

It was while Kurt started getting comfortable with the routine that he began to notice that individual students also had their own...habits and rituals.

Not one to judge people for their habits and rituals, (he himself had a intense nightly moisturizing routine, carried organic hairspray and lip balm in his knapsack, and wore the flashiest broaches on his uniform lapel that the school rules would allow), he still could not to help notice, or wonder, about the eccentricities of his new peers.

Jameson knocked four times, on the doorframe, before he would enter a classroom.

Brock only ate the blue M&Ms.

Flint only wore purple socks.

Wes and David had "manly" tea parties in the senior commons , and attempted to read their tea leaves when they were done.

This was actually entertaining, even though they both predicted that Kurt was either going to be hit with an rabid buckeye, or that Blaine was going to make love to him under a full moon. It didn't matter how many times he tried to tell them that both of those were impossible, as buckeyes couldn't get rabies, he still held hope that the other one could happen, if only to himself.

It was at one such insane tea party that Kurt once again took notice of something strange.

While everyone else seemed to have their weird quirks, Blaine seemed to be immune.

Sure, Blaine liked to use an obscene amount of hair gel, and seemed like he belonged in a 1950's Old Hollywood film, Blaine didn't have any odd mannerisms.

He thought that, until Travis, his roommate, started talking about horoscopes.

While everyone, even he himself, wanted to know what their horoscopes was, Blaine kept quiet.
When it seemed like it was his turn to find out, he shared a look with David and Wes, and politely excused himself from the party, telling Kurt and the others that he forget to pick up his mail from the mailroom.

After he left, things went back to normal, but Kurt could feel that something was off.

Checking with Facebook, he realized that Blaine's birthday information was private.

After a few days, he coolly asked people what Blaine's sign was, or what he did for his last birthday. Nobody gave him a straight answer. Everyone seemed almost hesitant, or just as in the dark as Kurt. Even Wes and David seemed to field questions, and somehow redirect the focus of the conversation to the next Warbler practice, or the upcoming French test.

When he tried to ask Blaine himself, he seemed to get uncomfortable, nervous, and somehow changed the subject. (He blamed Blaine's smile and utter charm. He could make the toughest on Interrogators melt, and add him to their Holiday Card list.)

One weekend night, while sitting on his bed back in Lima, Kurt thought he finally realized the problem.

Blaine Anderson didn't enjoy people giving him anything.

That had to be it, Kurt figured.

Blaine always paid for everything, from lattes, to lunch, to movie tickets and popcorn.
When people tried to pay, go in for half, or even pay him back, he told everyone that it wasn't necessary.
It made perfect sense, which lead him to the conclusion that Blaine Anderson didn't like for people to know when his birthday was.

If Blaine's friends knew when his birthday was, they would give him a gift. Being that Blaine obviously didn't want people to give him things, (which, while he would respect Blaine's choice of not wanting presents, he totally couldn't fathom why he wouldn't. Then again, Kurt had been shopping and buying his own gifts for years, because Burt obviously couldn't tell the difference between Marc Jacobs and Faded Glory), he wouldn't want people to know his birthday, and being the Gentleman that he was, even if he told people he didn't want a gift, he would be forced to take whatever they got him, which would most likely hurt his pride.
It was settled then, in Kurt's mind.

He wouldn't buy Blaine a gift for his birthday, whenever that was. He would plan a fun day full of old musical movies, home made chocolate chip brownies, (Blaine's favorite), and a hand painted card. The card wouldn't have money or a gift card in it, so it wouldn't be like Kurt was trying to pay for anything, and the fact that he would make it himself, (and make it fabulous, naturally), would show just how much he cared. He was sure he could paint the Ohio State University football logo, and he knew how to strategically glue enough glitter on paper to make it look brighter than the lights on Broadway, while being tasteful, and not tacky. While the brownies would go straight to his pear shaped hips, Blaine was worth the extra calories, and the extensive work out he would have to do to work them off.

It would be perfect, and Blaine would love it all, he was sure.

The problem was, he still wasn't sure when he was to do all of this.

He tried to rustle up some information from the faculty, and even went so far as to sneakily look at Blaine's person calendar in his dorm, while he waited on Blaine to come back from the shower.


Blaine Anderson was a mystery. While he had a last name, friends, a love for Vogue, and a fantastic voice and ass, everything else was a blank.

Fate seemed to shine down on Kurt one day in February when he got a random phone call from Blaine's mother.

It was a normal Tuesday at Dalton Academy. Kurt was on his way to French class, when
his iPhone began to ring. He knew it wasn't any of his friends calling, because instead of hearing the normal ring tones for his friends, ( Respect for Mercedes ), (Rabbit Heart for Tina), (Poker Face for Rachel), (I'm Yours for Blaine), or hearing Pink Houses for Dad, he heard the tone set up for unknown calls. He looked down at the screen. He didn't know the number. Curious, he answered.

An hour later, a perky Kurt was practically gliding on air as he walked towards the commons, humming a pleasant tune of Defying Gravity in his smug triumph.

He came to an abrupt halt when he heard a shrill scream.

The scene he came upon stopped him in his tracks, and made him raise an eyebrow.

David was standing on one of the plush upholstered chairs, cringing, knees shaking, pointing towards a text book on the coffee table.

Wes was crouched over, intently searching the area, his Warbler gavel in hand, poised like he was about to strike.

Smirking, Kurt asked amusedly,

"Gentlemen, I know homework can be stressful, and evil, but is beating it into submission really necessary?"

David looked across the room at Kurt.

"It's not the homework that's evil, it's the gigantic hairy spider on the homework that's evil! LOOK OUT WES! That thing has a knife, I swear it!"

Kurt, alarmed, took a swift step back. Fake bugs might make fashionable accessories. Real bugs, however, were to be avoided at all costs.

A second later Wes made a noise of quiet triumph before letting his gavel fall down with a loud SMACK.

"I got the spawn of hell, boys. You can climb down from the chair now, David."

David gingerly climbed down, and Kurt sat in the armchair diagonal the coffee table.

Wes sighed, and cleaned the spider guts off the gavel.

"You made me use my gavel for something Non-Warbler related, David. While this is a punishable offence, I will let it slide. This time. You owe me a soda, by the way. Not that caffeine-free crap you tired to pull last time either!"

David, ever thankful that the scary spider was now dead, rolled his eyes at his friend affirmation. While, yes, that was he agreement they made, he still wanted to complain about his friend's pickiness.

"Why not just get you a latte?"

Wes paused, sat down on the couch, and nodded.

"That sounds efficient enough. Very well, a latte it is then!"

David looked like he was about to protest, but then just sighed, and let it go. Arguing with Wes was like arguing with an oil lamp. They were bright, slick, and could burn you easily.

Wes looked across the table at Kurt, and clasped his hands in his lap.

"So Kurt, what has you in such a good mood today?"

Kurt, in excited story teller mode, leaned forward, his smug grin returning to his lips.

"Well, I got an interesting call earlier, and I was going to talk to you two about it."

David placed his text book back in his backpack, and turned towards Kurt.

"Oh really? Well then, share good fellow! After all of the chaos with the eight-legged hell hound, I'm in need of interesting news, and discussions!"

Kurt proceeded to launch into his tale.

"Well, the strangest thing happened. I got a call from Blaine's mother, and-"

Wes and David froze in their seat with matching looks of horror on their faces.

Kurt paused.

"Guys? Is there something wro-"

Wes and David shot out of their seats as if they were on fire.

David dropped to the floor, frantically looking through his daily planner, while Wes paced the floor like a caged tiger.

"Is it February already?"

"Oh God, no! Not this again!"

"What are we going to do? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?"

"How did Blaine's mother get your phone number?"

"Sneaky, sneaky woman!"

"We should have been prepared for this! Why did I schedule so many Warbler meetings?"

"Should we hide him somewhere? Send him out of town? An impromptu Warbler's concert?"

"Poor Blaine, he's DOOMED!"

Kurt felt his mouth drop open. This was NOT the reaction he was expecting from two of Blaine's best friends. The more hysterical the pair of them became, the more worried Kurt grew. He was pretty sure he was missing some important details.

Wes walked over and placed his hands firmly on Kurt's shoulders.

"Kurt, this is really important. Focus! What did Blaine's Mom tell you? Was she inviting you to something? Was she asking you questions?"

Trying to not be annoyed, smart off, or state the fact that out of all three of them, he wasn't the one that resembled a manic Rachel Berry on vitamin D, he bit the inside of his cheek, took a calming breath, and looked up at Wes.

"She introduced herself as Catherine Anderson, aka Blaine's Mother, and wanted to call and ask me for a small favor. Blaine had mentioned to her in passing that I planned my Dad and Carole's wedding, and since Blaine's birthday was coming up so soon, she wanted to know if I could help her plan a surprise party for him. I was actually thrilled by this, because nobody ever told me when Blaine's birthday was! Honestly, it's more of a guarded secret than the insured winners envelops for the Golden Globe Awards!"

"That's it?" David asked.

Kurt looked over.

"That's it, I swear. Is there something wrong? Does Blaine hate getting presents, or something? Does he abhor his day of birth so much, that he doesn't even want his Mother getting involved?"

David and Wes shared a look.

"Who said anything about Blaine not liking presents? Blaine loooves presents, a lot...just not on his birthday. Ever."

"As long as they're not red-or pink."

"Or anything too expensive."

"Yeah! He likes thoughtful gifts!"

"Like a book, or a Chia Pet."

Kurt really didn't want to know how a Chia Pet was considered a thoughtful gift. It did oddly make him think of Mr. Schue.

"We usually give him his on the fourth of July."

"Why?" asked Kurt, getting more apprehensive and confused by the minute.

"He loves fireworks just as much as he loves gifts. We blame Katy Perry, and Blaine's tiny attention span."

Shaking his head, Kurt held up his hand to quell the running dialog.

"So, let me see if I have this right. Blaine likes getting presents, but nothing expensive, and likes getting them five months after his birthday?"

Kurt would have really starting to wonder if David and Wes were messing with him, if he had not seen the true horror in their eyes only moments ago. He just couldn't wrap his mind around all of the ever increasingly odd facts. Where it a couple of months ago, Kurt would have sworn that Blaine was a normal teenager, and didn't have any strange rituals and traditions. Now he wasn't so sure. This whole birthday business was bringing new meanings to the word "eccentricities".

"Yes," Wes nodded, "that is correct."

"Also," David added hesitantly, " Blaine doesn't hate his birthday-exactly."

Kurt was really feeling irritated with all of the secrecy.

"Cut the crap, what do you mean by that?"

"It's like this Kurt," Wes started to explain, "Blaine doesn't have a problem with celebrating his birthday...as long as it's not on his actual birthday."

"Hence why the fourth of July."

This puzzled Kurt.

"Ok, then what's the problem? And why doesn't he like to celebrate on his actual birthday?"

Trying to make a joke, he smirked , harrumphed and said,

"It's not like it's Valentine's Day, is it?"

When neither of the boys said anything, Kurt eyes widened.

"Oh Gaga. His birthday is on Valentine's Day?"

"Hole in one Kurt."

"Ten points to Gryffindor."

It made sense now. Of course Blaine didn't want people to know that he was born on Valentine's Day. He had been a gay teenage boy, bullied enough to transfer schools to Dalton. He could only imagine how much worse it could get for him to be associated with a day dedicated to romance, flowers, and the color pink, let alone a naked flying baby that shot love arrows at people's butts.

At least on Independence Day, everyone would be distracted by Sousa playing parades, fashion disasters dressed like dead Presidents, and blinding pyrotechnics.

Sweet Cheesus! Poor Blaine.

But, he was at Dalton now. While the wounds of the past would still hurt, he didn't need to hide such things now.


Kurt looked over at his friends.

"Just how much does Blaine's Mother play up the fact that he was born on the most sappy, commercial day of the year?"


"Heart shaped cake."

"Red and white frosting."

"A pinata shaped like Cupid"

"Pony rides, and Clowns."

Kurt lifted an eyebrow at the last one.

"Well, those alone are horrible for someone over the age of five, but the ponies last year were decked out in pink and red saddles, and the clown only made white, pink and red balloon shapes."

"I asked for a giraffe last year. I got a heart, within a heart."

"I asked for a snake, but I got a daisy instead."

"His brother had to help us sneak Blaine out of his bedroom window after the hired band started to play Puppy Love. He told his Mother that Blaine had been abducted by aliens."

Kurt was staring at his friends in horror. Blaine's Mother, while nice and friendly sounding on the phone, clearly hated her son, and needed to be locked in an asylum, due to insanity, cruel and unusual punishment, and purely bad taste. His brother sounded decent, but the jury was still out until he saw his wardrobe choices.

Wes gripped Kurt's shoulders.

"Kurt, it is your duty, as a friend, as a student of Dalton, and most importantly, as a fellow Warbler , to make sure Mrs. Anderson doesn't go holiday theme crazy over Blaine's birthday. He's always miserable every year, and we're really running out of excuses as to why Blaine would be out of the State on that day."

Blaine hated his birthday, not because he didn't like gifts, but because of the day he was born, and what his Mother did with it. Ever year, instead of decorations that he would like, everything was always filled with hearts, red, pink and white. What should have been a day to celebrate a boy's birth, was turned into a clichÈ and stereotypical day of greeting cards, candy, and flowers, with an added birthday cake.

Kurt straightened his spine, and raised his head in determination. While all of the other boys wore cheap baggy pants and t-shirts, Kurt wore skinny jeans and designer shirts that probably cost more than one of there precious bloodletting video games. Kurt knew how to work fashion, and work it good. However, Kurt also knew how to detail a car, change a tire, and install a high quality sounds system, while making it look as easy as breathing fresh mountain air.

Kurt Hummel was many things, but cliche wasn't one of them. He believed in breaking stereotypes, and doing something new and chic. With that thought in mind, Kurt promised himself that he was going to give the boy he loved a fantastic celebration that he would never forget. Blaine deserved the best birthday party ever. With Kurt's planning, he was damn well going to get it, and without a heart or flower in sight.

"I'll do it."

It was on a snowy Friday night that Kurt was pacing back and forth, in none other than Blaine's room at the Anderson homestead.

The plan had all started off going right, at the beginning of the evening.

After calling Catherine back, and scheduling a meeting with her to discuss the party plans, Kurt made sure to have all of his arsenal of design magazines and fabric swatches at the ready. This WOULD be a amazing party, damn it, even if he had to tie Blaine's Mother up, and hide her in a closet.

At the time, Kurt giggled at the irony of that thought.

He had also made sure to dress to impress. While he wouldn't hesitate to hog tie the woman if she so much as brought a potted plant to her son's party, she was Blaine's mother, and he wanted to make the best impression on the mother of the dapper boy he loved.

While the weather was starting to look kind of bad, after a lengthy discussion with his Dad, Kurt finally got permission to drive out to meet Mrs. Anderson, as long as he promised to watch out, turn around if the road started to look bad, and to call him when he got there, and when he planned to leave.

When he got to the house, he was greeted with a surprise at the door.


Before he could knock, he was tackled onto the snowy lawn by a twenties-ish guy, and his blonde haired friend.

At first, when the guy didn't immediately get off of him, Kurt was about to threaten to cut the boy for practically ruining his new Alexander McQueen suede jacket, and blocking off his circulation. When he tried to shove him off, he noticed that the guy seemed to be foaming at the mouth!

After being rescued by a frantic Catherine Anderson, and witnessing the scolding of the rather tall, frothy mouthed guy, he later found out was Blaine's older brother Byron, Kurt soon realized three things.

He was cold.

He was sodden.

All of his magazines, portfolios, and fabric swatches, were all wet.

He looked like a frozen, drown rat, he was ill prepared to go to war with Mighty Aphrodite, and after finding out that he was Kurt Hummel, the Kurt Hummel that Blaine couldn't stop talking about, Byron Anderson, and his Ohio State University doom mate, Jeff, were glued to him worse than Santana's false eyelashes.

There was a reason that Kurt always wanted to be in the Girls Group, when he was still in New Directions. While he was one hundred percent male, thank you very much, he wasn't the type to burp the alphabet, make fart jokes, and eat like a slob.

It amazed Kurt that Blaine and Byron were even related.

While Byron was very friendly, offering him snack foods, and foamy root beer, (which Kurt found out was why Blaine's brother appeared rabid), the loud, OSU hoodie wearing man was really wearing Kurt's patience thin. He wasn't sure how, but Byron seemed to encompass every lazy, rude and crude aspect of a teenage male, and yet, still seemed to have the attention span of a three year old.

Between having to watch an ESPN Soccer Game, and Byron asking him for the third time if his "lil Blainie", (Blaine was going to get hell for that nickname later), had made his move on him yet, (yet another thing Kurt was planning on discussing with Blaine), Kurt was about to rip his tacky blue headband off his auburn head, and shove it down his laughing throat.

He was rescued...with horrible news.

Apparently, the roads had gotten worse while he was there.

Mrs. Anderson personally called Burt to ask if Kurt could stay over for the night, until the roads cleared. When Burt gave the go ahead, Kurt was given a bundle of clothes, and directed to a room at the end of the hall.

It took a moment, after flipping the switch, that he realized that he was in Blaine's room.

He laid the clothes gently on the bed, and walked around the room in a daze.

This was Blaine's room.

The walls were a creamy color, accented with honey colored wood crown molding, and furniture. While his room was rather tidy, his desk was filled with papers, pictures, and notebooks.

His walls were littered with various posters of his favorite movies, Broadway plays, and TV shows, like the Pirates of the Caribbean poster next to his mirror, or the smaller Rent poster on his closet door, or even the compelling poster of Castiel, the trench coat wearing Angel from Supernatural, that was next to the window.

Kurt trailed his fingers over the glossy surfaces of the posters, and then sat down on the bed.

The thick, richly embroidered quilt under his fingers felt well loved. If Kurt closed his eyes, and imagined just a little bit, he could swear he felt Blaine's warmth seeping through the bulky fabric.

As he went to take off his shirt, to change into the clothes Mrs. Anderson had left for him to sleep in, he felt a naughty thrill go down his spine at the thought of taking his clothes off in Blaine's room, in his bed.

His fingers shook as he unbuttoned his shirt, caressing his chest, just barely, with every button revealed. He let his shirt fall off of his shoulders, the whisper of the fabric, and his deep breathing the only sounds in the room.

He pulled the rest of his clothes off slowly, and carefully, folding each piece, and placing them next to the bed.

When he reached for the bundle of clothes left for him, Blaine's clothes, he had to take a moment to regard the cherished clothing.

While the clothes were nothing Kurt would ever in a million years consider wearing himself, he couldn't help holding them reverently in his graceful hands.

He shouldn't have touched the cotton fabric of the blue Walt Disney logo t-shirt with his fingers, like it was made of fine silk.

He shouldn't have hugged the light blue hooded sweatshirt, and smelled it, like it was an expensive cashmere sweater.

He shouldn't have practically moaned when the too-short, simple grey sweat pants softly brushed his inner thighs, as he slid them slowly up his legs.

He knew this was utterly ridiculous. They were just clothes. Ugly clothes. Ugly clothes owned by a friend. But it was the thought of that friend, wearing those clothes, sitting in this room, laying in this bed, that nearly drove Kurt over the edge.

He was pulled back to sanity when he got a text message.

From Blaine: So, Kurt. I've got a question. I got a call from Finn, giving me the "Big Brother" speech, and warning me not to do any funny business, because you were staying over?

Kurt was mortified. While it was sort of endearing of Finn to try and "protect his honor", he really wished he would have learned to eavesdrop on their parents better, so he would have know that the part where Blaine wasn't even going to be there!

Kurt bit his lip, and sent text back.

From Kurt: Funny story! You Mother invited me over, and I got snowed in, while you got stuck at David's. Byron and Jeff say 'Hi!' btw. He saved you some root beer and Oreos.

From Blaine: Oh God, Byron's home? And he brought Jeff? I am so sorry, Kurt. I'll make it up to you, I swear. I'll by you your favorite Latte tomorrow?

From Kurt: Sounds fair, but really, you don't have to Blaine. You didn't even know I was coming over, and they're not that bad. : )

From Blaine: I'm still going to though. ;) I know he can be a handful at times. But, he is my brother, and once you get to know him, he's actually a really funny, loving guy. No matter what, he's always been there for me.

Kurt smiled, thinking of the goofy guy he met earlier, and what it might have been like for the two brothers growing up together.

From Kurt: I guess brothers are just like that. He actually kind of reminds me of Finn

They texted back and forth for a while, talking about funny stories about both Finn and Byron, and what antics Wes and David were up to, when Blaine abruptly changed subjects.

From Blaine: Why did you come over? Not that I'm complaining, I just wish I could have been there to show you around. I make a wonderful Tour Guide. =(

From Kurt: I told you, your Mother invited me over. I kind of wish you were here too. =(

From Blaine: Only kind of?

From Kurt: Ok, I really wish you were here. That way, Byron could see his 'Lil Blainie' for himself, and stop asking me questions.

From Blaine: ...I'm going to kill him. I'm going to commit bromicide.

Kurt laughed when he read that.

Before Kurt could text back, however, Blaine sent another text.

From Blaine: You know, my Mother never invites friends over out of the blue Kurt. She always has a reason.

From Kurt: What reason could she possibly have, Blaine?

From Blaine: Why don't you tell me?

Deciding to be a little bold, Kurt text back,

From Kurt: Maybe because It's the Age of Aquarius?

Kurt was expecting some possible negative reactions to this, or maybe for Blaine to think that he found a new possible song for the Warblers to sing, but he wasn't expecting the next text he got.

From Blaine: Which room are you in?

From Kurt: Your room, why?

A couple of minutes went by, and Kurt was beginning to worry that he made Blaine mad, but then he heard the door knob turn.

Bathed in the glowing hallway light, stood a slightly frozen looking Blaine.


"When I got Finn's text, I decided to chance it, and came home."

He looked down at Kurt, under his covers.

"I'm glad I did." he said with a cheeky grin.

When Kurt went to get up, Blaine gently motioned for him to lay back down.

"Scoot over, cover hog! I'm freezing my buns off here!"

He lifted the quilt, and curled up next to Kurt.

"Cheesus Blaine! You really are freezing!" Kurt said, as he cuddled closer to his friend.

"Well, you're quite warm, so I think this will work out just fine."

It didn't take long for both boys to settle together under the covers, Blaine's head nestled into the crook of Kurt's neck and shoulder, Kurt gently rubbing his hand up and down Blaine's arm, using the excuse that he wanted to soothe away the chill, but continued even after Blaine grew toasty warm.

After a long, comfortable silence, Blaine spoke up.

"My birthday's Valentine's Day."

"I know."

"I hate it."

"I know that too."

"I don't want another frilly party that I have to sneak away from."

"You won't have to. You Mother asked me to plan your party this year, and I was thinking about telling her that the theme should be Black and Green, like the Emerald City from Wicked."

Widened, bronze colored eyes looked back at him in awe.

"That...would actually be very fantastic, Kurt."

"Of course it will be," Kurt said smugly, "I thought of it."

Blaine's smile started to fade, and he let out a quick sigh.

"She'll never go for it, though. I've tried every year since I was six, she's a stickler for tradition."

Kurt bravely nuzzled Blaine's curls, and cuddled him a little closer.

"You just leave that to me. I have a tendency to break traditions that don't suit my needs."

Blaine laughed, and tentatively rubbed his lips and nose across the skin of Kurt's cheek.

"Yeah, I've kind of noticed that."

The boys fell asleep in a peaceful slumber, wrapped up in each other.

After a lengthy discussion with Catherine over the breakfast table, Kurt managed, to both Blaine and Byron's astonishment, to get her to agree to his plans for Blaine's birthday party, and actually gave him a very wide budget for the venue.

Still wearing Blaine's clothes from the night before, Kurt was quickly lead back to the bedroom, by a very giddy and excited Blaine.

Kurt was about to ask what was going on...before his lips were otherwise occupied by Blaine's.

It took a couple of seconds to understand the enthusiastic dance Blaine's mouth was trying to get Kurt to join, but once he did-well, let nobody say that Kurt Hummel can't dance, even if he was new to the steps and rhythm.

They pulled away for air, but couldn't seem to pull away from each other, as they rest their foreheads against one another's.

"What was that for?" Kurt asked, rubbing his nose against Blaine's.

Blaine, wrapping his arms tighter around Kurt, answered,

"That was a Thank You for being amazing back there."

"-just a thank you, then?"

"Well-the next one is going to be for asking you out, but that one will involve tongue."

Kurt shivered pleasantly at the idea.

"And the next?"

"Confirming that you are my boyfriend, and more tongue. Maybe a hickey."

"For you or me?"

"Oh God, please both of us."

Kurt gripped the collar of Blaine's shirt, and pulled him into another earth-shattering kiss, only this time, he was sent to the Moon when he felt his boyfriend trace his lips with his tongue.

When the roads finally cleared, two very satisfied boyfriends walked out to Kurt's car, hand in hand.

Byron and Jeff cheered from the porch.

Blaine calmly waited until Kurt drove away, before chasing his brother down.

Traditionally, February the fourteenth was a day filled with paper hearts, fragrant flowers, and lots and lots of candy.

That year, tradition was broken, and replaced with a new one. That year, instead of lots of red, pink, and white, there was only green and black, in the elaborate party that one Kurt Hummel hosted for his boyfriend Blaine. He invited Warblers and New Directions alike, and set the staunch dress code of only green and black. He was thanked by many boys that night.

While everyone else seemed to having the time of their lives, drinking the green punch, and dancing and singing along to the loud music, Kurt knew he did a good job when he looked at a shocked, amazed Blaine.

He gently grasped his shoulders, and whispered in his ear,

"Welcome to Oz, Fiyero."

Some traditions stayed the same, such as Wes and David's "manly" tea parties, Flint's ever present purple socks, and the ever present shower shoes .

Some changed, like when somebody accidentally knocked over William Shakespeare one day on the way to the library. The new statue just didn't seem to hold the same magic as the last one did.

One such tradition that still occurred, and yet, also changed, was the Independence Day celebration. Due to the fact that Blaine actually celebrated his birthday that year, Wes and David went and watched the fireworks with their girlfriends.

Kurt and Blaine sat on Blaine's favorite quilt in a meadow, wondrously watching the bright rainbow colors shoot across the sky, and light their faces.

When all of the colors left the sky, and the smoke cleared, Kurt realized just how much a beautiful night it was.

He reached over, and offered Blaine another chocolate chip brownie, which he readily ate, and laid back on the blanket.

While Kurt really wasn't the type to lay down in the grass, ever, (grass stains were a Bitch to get out of clothes), he couldn't help but love the intimate, private moment he and Blaine had with each other. He got the feeling Blaine felt the same way, as he leaned over and gave Kurt a passionate, chocolate tasting kiss.

Life was full of weird eccentricities, strange habits, and confusing rituals.

As Blaine lowered his mouth to kiss the soft skin of Kurt's chest, as he unbuttoned his shirt with shaking fingers, Kurt looked up at the full moon gazing above them, and thought that, while some were good to have, and nice to go along with, sometimes breaking traditions was a whole lot more fun.

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