Kurt had to be imagining things. That was it; there was no way that he was watching his boyfriend of four months scrapbooking.

But he recognized the materials, the special pens and markers, cutting boards and slicers, rubber cement and glue and fancy paper. This was all scrapbooking material, there was no denying it.

He watched in silence for a bit longer, his eyes tracing the smooth muscles in Puck's back as his boyfriend bent over the desk in his room, concentrating on gluing something straight. After a while, Kurt felt a bit too voyeuristic, as if he was intruding on something sacred and private. He backed out of the doorway and paused for a moment, debating how to redo the scene so he wouldn't walk in on something Puck probably didn't want him to see. He finally yelled back down the stairs, repeating the conversation he had with Puck's mom not even ten minutes ago as she was leaving, "Thanks, Mrs. Puckerman, I'll remind Puck about Girl Scouts, see you in a bit!"

Immediately Puck could be heard scrambling to put the materials away, the unmistakable sound of papers flapping in the air combined with Kurt's soft footsteps as he slowly rewalked to the room. When he finally felt that Puck had had enough time, Kurt knocked on the door and stuck his head in. "Is it safe to come in?" He teased, grinning at the thought of Puck scrapbooking. But for the second time that day, Kurt couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Somehow Puck managed to stuff his materials away somewhere in the short amount of time and still had time to lay down on his bed, completely naked. Smirking his typical Puck smirk (patent pending), he simply stated, "Ma's getting groceries and Sara's at Girls Scouts; get your fine ass over here."

All thoughts of scrapbooking escaped Kurt's head as he quickly locked the door and practically pounced on his boyfriend. There was only so much his teenage hormones could do around a naked Noah Puckerman, after all.

—

It was always a great weekend when the Puckerman household was free of parents. Sure Burt and Carole went to car conventions or on shopping trips in Columbus, but Finn always claimed the house for himself and Rachel on those occasions (and since Puck accidentally sent Finna steamy text involving a vibrating toy, Kurt's anatomy, and a word that Kurt enjoyed being called which implied he sold himself on the streets, he always got what he wanted under the threat of Burt seeing it). This meant that the only way Puck and Kurt could have weekends to themselves was when both of the Puckerman 'ladies' needed to go somewhere.

Naomi and Sara Puckerman were almost always at home, however. And while Puck's mom may not have cared if Kurt stayed the night or not, Kurt's lack of volume control and the squeaky springs in Puck's bed made any alone time a bit too public.

But, finally, there was a weekend when the house was free. Naomi was off to Illinois for an old girlfriend's second wedding and Sara was at Nana's until she got back. Kurt packed his bags, told his family he was off at Mercedes, and sped over to Puck's house, his clothes stripped off his body as soon as he was safely inside.

While they were cuddled up in post-coital bliss on that Saturday morning after a long night together, Kurt's nose nuzzled into Puck's cheek, Kurt's stomach let out a particularly loud growl. Puck laughed, "Am I tiring you out?"

Kurt shrugged with a smile, "I wouldn't mind one of your omelets."

Puck grinned and, with a small groan, sat up. "Fine, but I get to choose the next position." He gave Kurt's inner thigh a playful slap and headed downstairs while whistling a song they were working on in glee club.

Kurt lay in bed for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him. They had been going out for almost half a year now, with just a few weeks until Thanksgiving break of their senior year, and yet Kurt had rarely explored Puck's room, what with being so focused on just sexing up his boyfriend most of the time he was there.

He gingerly got out of the bed and walked around slowly, looking at the pictures on the wall while trying not to trip over strewn clothes and his own bags of moisturizers. He stopped over at the bookshelves, curious as to what Puck had filling up the shelves since he rarely spent time reading. The first few shelves were full of Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and some Orson Scott Card, the sort of things Kurt could see Puck enjoying. The bottom shelf had a lot of children's books. Kurt kneeled down and pulled out a worn out copy of Green Eggs and Ham with a smile; the image of a young Puck, all curls and mischievous grins, sounding out Dr. Suess was almost too cute to handle (thankfully he managed to stop himself from imagining the two of them smiling at each other while their own son or daughter sat between them, reading the book, because, as he constantly tried to remind himself, they were in high school).

He put the book away and was about to get up when some binder-like books caught his eye. Pulling out the thickest one, Kurt opened it and his eyes widened.

Over the past few months, he had forgotten that he walked in on Puck scrapbooking, but as he stared at the scrapbook in his hands he was quickly reminded. He slowly turned through the pages, admiring the handiwork of Puck's careful hands so intently that it took him a while to realize that all the pictures involved Puck and Santana. The first half of the book seemed to just be happy, cute moments of either both of them or just her, but then it switched to pictures of Santana and Brittany snuggling together and various candid photos of Santana where she glared at the camera. At the very end there was a sealed envelope with the words For Later scribbled in Puck's handwriting.

Kurt put it away and grabbed another album, finding it to be focused on Quinn. It went the same way, first with various pictures of the two of them together or with Quinn looking happy, even a few of Quinn and Sara asleep on the couch together, Quinn's pregnant belly serving as a pillow for Sara's head. Then there were various pictures of her with Finn at prom the year before, her pink hair and the creepy 40-year-old guy she dated over the summer, and even a picture of her and Kurt gossiping in the choir room. Kurt remembered that, both of them laughing and talking about Puck himself when the boy in question snapped a picture on his phone. And at the end of the book there was an extremely thick envelope that was, yet again, labeled For Later.

As he put that one away, a smile formed on his face. Maybe there would be one about him, a scrapbook of his favorite moments with his boyfriend. Kurt looked through the rest of the books quickly but only found one for Lauren, a small one about Brittany, and a book filled with various other Cheerios and a few MILFs (and even April Rhodes). But none of them were about him.

Before he could ponder whatever that meant, he heard footsteps on the stairs and rushed back to the bed. His mind went into hyper drive, wincing at the thought of Puck thinking he was intruding on his privacy, even though he honestly was. His knees were now indented with the carpet from kneeling on them. What if Puck noticed?

In a desperate haste, he shot a flirty look at Puck as he came in with a tray of omelets and orange juice, resting it on the dresser. "Ooo, looks delicious," Kurt cooed before turning to Puck with a smirk, "But I know what would taste even better." He lowered himself to his knees and earned those carpet markings the best way he knew how.

—

The scrapbooks just floated around in Kurt's mind over the next month or so, always in the back of his mind. Maybe Puck hadn't had time to make one for him? No, that made no sense; he had walked in on Puck making one a few months before he found the scrapbooks. Maybe his was in the process of being made and was hidden with the rest of the materials? Possibly, but did he really spend that long on them? Maybe…maybe it was his Christmas gift!

That had to be it! The reason why Puck didn't want Kurt to find out about his scrapbook wasn't because it was too 'girly' and 'unbadass' but because it was his present! And it was so sweet of him; he started so far in advance! The idea that Puck thought they would be together made his whole stomach warm up and a smile spring on his face so quickly he thought his lips would have whiplash.

Now Kurt needed to find a way to compete with that, something to let Puck know he was also in for the long haul and that he was truly touched by him. But while Kurt was good at sewing and wrapping presents, he had no other talents with his hands (well, except in ways that made Puck moan and writhe). So he set his sights on the Lima Mall early on a Saturday, planning on not leaving until he found the perfect gift for Puck.

The bookstore yielded nothing, and it was the same with Hot Topic and Macy's. He looked around almost all day but couldn't find anything that he thought Puck would like that also showed how much he cared for him. Kurt even tried the pet store next door for a moment until his allergy to cats made taking two steps without sneezing impossible.

He ambled back to the mall, rubbing his still runny nose, when a banner declaring a sale at a jewelry shop caught his eye. Tilting his head to the side, Kurt slowly walked over and looked at what was available. Obviously he wasn't going to give Puck a fancy ring or earrings, but he was soon drawn over to a bunch of gold watches. He knew Puck often wore one that he stole from his grandfather, but maybe he would like one that was truly his own.

"Those can be engraved as well." Kurt jumped as the voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to the source to find a smiling old man with a nametag reading Jim on it. "Sorry, kid, didn't mean to startle you, just thought you should know. Looking for a gift for a special someone?"

Kurt nodded, "Yes, and I think this will do perfectly."

—

A few days before Christmas, Puck arrived at the Hummel-Hudson house as scheduled to exchange gifts with Kurt. Kurt rushed down the stairs so his father wouldn't answer it and scare his boyfriend, his favorite pastime. Pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend's lips, Kurt said, "Happy Hanukkah."

"Merry early Christmas," Puck wished back, stepping into the house and unwrapping the scarf Kurt insisted he wore. He pressed a kiss to Kurt's cheek, his cold nose rubbing against his temple as he quickly stripped off his gloves (also something Kurt insisted on him wearing).

"So how's the High Holiday going?" Kurt asked, leading Puck into the living room where the decorated tree was lit up and hot chocolate awaited them.

"High Holy Day, Kurt, and Hanukkah's not one of them," Puck corrected, sitting across from Kurt. "But it's going okay, I guess. Lots of latkes and Sara's obsessed with playing with the dreidel this year, but no fire accidents so far, not for lack of trying on my part. How's the pre-Christmas-ing?"

"Good, I guess, not much to do, all the gifts I've bought are wrapped and under the tree," Kurt said, nodding his head to the piles of presents. Kurt's were easy to spot due to the big bows and precise, clean wrapping. His face slid into a smile and he stood, "Speaking of…" He grabbed a box from under the tree and handed it to Puck, smiling brightly, "Happy holidays, Noah."

Puck smiled at the name, something Kurt only called him during private, special moments, before his eyes turned back to the box. "You can open it, you know," Kurt teased lightly, sitting back down. With a small chuckle Puck started tearing at the paper carefully to find a velvet box. He opened it up and blinked, surprise written all over his face.

"I wanted to make you something but I just don't have much talent in things you would like and I just wanted to show you that I love you so much and that I'm in here for the long haul," Kurt started to nervously babble when Puck didn't say anything. "It's not that expensive or anything, I know you hate me spending a lot of money on you, and I mean if you hate it—"

"Kurt," Puck said slowly, "This…I just…I wasn't expecting this. It's more than I ever expected just…wow." He looked over at him, "It's awesome, babe. Thank you."

Kurt smiled in relief. "It's engraved, too." He walked over to the couch to sit next to Puck, taking out the watch and turning it over. "Miracle of Miracles. I may not necessarily believe in religion, but I do believe that Fiddler on the Roof is our musical and that something miraculous happened with us." He put the watch on Puck's left wrist and placed a kiss on his temple. "You really like it?"

Puck looked at the watch in awe and nodded, "Yeah, I really do." He turned to Kurt and kissed him softly on his lips, hand gently cupping his cheek.. "And I love you."

"I love you, too."

Puck kissed him again and pulled away with a slight shake of his head as he smiled, "Mine is going to seem so lame in comparison."

"I'm sure I'll love it," Kurt said, a knowing smile on his face as Puck bent over to dig into his backpack. However, his grin was lost as Puck added, "And it'll totally look like I'm copying." How was a homemade scrapbook like the watch at all?

Puck pulled out a small, wrapped box and handed it to Kurt. Kurt's brows rose, confusion all over his face. At Puck's urging he finally unwrapped it to find a small, black, velvet box. His eyebrows were knit in confusion as he opened it, his face soon dropping in shock.

"It's a ring."

"Well, yeah," Puck said. "It's, well, it's not like it has to be a promise ring or anything, it's just, like, a reminder that I love you even if I act like an ass sometimes or let my eyes linger on those Cheerios skirts too long. Like I said, it seems like copying, especially since mine's engraved, too, but I didn't follow you or anything, promise."

"How long did you save up for this?"

Puck shrugged, "A few months? I knew I wanted to get you something good since we started dating so I saved my pool cleaning money and did odd jobs when I could, but it wasn't too expensive I guess? There was a sale at the mall and the guy gave me a discount because I was getting a Yiddish engraving and he's Jewish I guess." He eyed Kurt hesitantly, unsure as to how his boyfriend will react to a gift that showed just how serious he was about them, even though Kurt had already said he was in this for the long run, "And I mean it wasn't a big deal or anything, I had a bit of money left over from my bar mitzvah still that Ma only just let me use now because I just turned 18."

Kurt picked up the plain gold band, still in shock, and turned it over to read the engraving, "Bashert?" He looked over at a sheepish Puck for a translation.

"It's a word my Nana taught me," he explained. "It's Yiddish for fate or destiny and it's used by us Jews to mean soul mate, our perfect match made by God." He shook his head at his words and rubbed the back of his neck, "It's cheesy and, God, way too much to say in freaking high school, but…" He shrugged and looked at Kurt hopefully.

Kurt, for his part, was speechless. It wasn't what he was expecting by a long shot and it was something he wished for but didn't let himself expect from Puck. Puck wanted the same thing as he did, a whole future together. Kurt cleared his throat after Puck dropped his head down. "Y-you said it doesn't have to be a promise ring," Kurt whispered, "But can it be?"

Puck looked back up at him with a wide smile, "Definitely." Kurt smiled, feeling happy tears prick at his eyes as he slid the ring onto his right ring finger, the traditional promise ring finger. He admired the gold on his skin before using that hand to draw Puck in for a long kiss, the thought of scrapbooks still prevalent in his mind.

—

On Christmas Eve, Kurt was hanging out at Puck's house as the rest of his family wrapped their gifts, sitting on his bed with him as they laughed and talked and discussed their future. The future they finally felt comfortable admitting to the other that they were imagining for themselves. "You realize we'll have to live in New York City, right?"

"Yeah, well, you realize Ma is only going to let us get married if you convert to Judaism, right?"

Kurt made a face, "Fine, but only for show. I'm still eating ham and I'm not worshipping any deity."

"What about me?" Puck asked.

Kurt rolled his eyes and gently pushed his arm, "I'm pretty sure comparing yourself to God is blasphemy in any religion."

"Good thing Jews don't believe in Hell. Now answer the question."

"What, am I going to 'worship' you?" Kurt asked incredulously, snorting at Puck's head nod. "Only if you worship me back."

"Oh you know I will," Puck insisted. "Or at least your body," he added with lewd eyebrows, moving his hand to Kurt's ass.

Kurt immediately smacked it away, "Don't ruin our touching moment, Basherter."

Puck grinned and leaned in, "You know, you talking in a foreign language is fucking hot."

"Really now? Well, je t'aime, mon âme soeur," Kurt whispered.

"Hmm?" Puck hummed, pushing Kurt onto his back slowly, Kurt's head almost hanging off the foot of the bed.

"Te amo, mi alma gemela."

"Hmmm," Puck hummed again, starting to slowly kiss Kurt's neck.

"Ich liebe dich, meinen Seelenverwandten."

Puck let out a laugh, "As much as I love you basically saying 'dick', that is so not sexy. I appreciate you using Google translate out the wazoo, though."

"Hey, some regular Google action happened, too," Kurt laughed back and dropped his head back, looking around him when his eyes fell on the bookshelf in Puck's corner. Wistfully, he sighed and, without thinking, asked, "When will I get a scrapbook?"

The atmosphere of the room turned from fun and playful to silent and tense in a split second. Kurt's eyes widened as he looked up at Puck, who just looked completely dumbfounded. "What did you say?" Puck asked quietly, moving off of Kurt and sitting back against the head of the bed.

Kurt closed his eyes and sat up, cursing himself internally. He sighed and explained as best as he could, "A few months ago I walked in on you scrapbooking and then left and came back so you wouldn't have to explain yourself. And then I saw your scrapbooks of Santana and Quinn and everyone and thought I was getting one for Christmas or something. And don't get me wrong, I love my gift, but I expected a scrapbook of us or something…" He opened his eyes and looked back at Puck.

Puck sat there, looking at Kurt oddly, as if he wasn't sure how to react to what he was saying. "Well, I guess you know I'm much more girly and whatever than I let on."

"You have a feminine side, that's not something to be ashamed of," Kurt said carefully.

They were silent for a while longer, just staring at each other. Kurt was starting to get nervous, as if he was expecting Puck to just call the whole thing off now. "You should've told me." Kurt nodded, knowing Puck was right. "But trust me, you don't want one."

Kurt's eyebrows knitted together, "You have excellent craftsmanship, though, Puck. Why wouldn't I want one?"

Puck gave a half-smile, "Let me explain. I got into…scrapbooking," he frowned in disgust at the word, as if he hated his secret hobby, "because of my mom. She worked for Creative Memories, this scrapbooking company, for a while. She'd host parties when she wasn't working, get old women to buy the materials for their own uses. I helped her as a kid by making some example pages for those parties."

He ran a hand through his Mohawk and sighed, "Then Dad left and she had to take up another job that paid more to support us. She couldn't host the parties anymore but we still had the materials and they still send us stuff every now and then. But I kept on using the supplies to make my projects for school and stuff until I just stopped caring about school shit. Ma knew I liked doing stuff with it so she stored the supplies in my room, plus she wanted to keep the scissors in there away from Sara.

"One day I was trying to be a nice boyfriend for Santana so I started scrapbooking. But then I realized she'd just laugh in my face if I tried showing it to her, so I never did. Plus then Quinn happened so I stopped focusing on her." Puck frowned even more at that thought before continuing, "That, obviously, didn't work out. And so I tried going back to Santana last year as something more than friends. And that was a stupid mistake. One day I found the scrapbook so I hooked up my computer to my printer in a fit of rage and printed out pictures that painted her in a bad light and wrote myself a letter about how I should never get back together with her ever again. Stuff about her being a closeted lesbian who's too in love with Brittany to function."

He got off the bed and grabbed some of the scrapbooks from the bottom shelf, putting them on Kurt's lap. He opened Santana's and went to the back, pulling out the letter from the envelope. Kurt looked it over, finding everything Puck said to be true. Puck shrugged, "From there, I just started making these scrapbooks for all the people I dated. They were reminders that I shouldn't date or hook up or anything with any of those people again. First pictures of us having fun, because all of my relationships have been good at some point, then pictures to show why we shouldn't be together, and then a letter to myself to remind myself why those relationships failed."

Puck opened Quinn's and pointed out the second half, "See, these were pictures of her being insane." When they got to the picture of her gossiping with Kurt, he smiled, "That's my reminder that you guys looked happier talking to each other about me than she ever looked with me." He looked over at Kurt, "So, yeah, you don't want one, babe. Trust me."

Kurt was, yet again, speechless over Puck's inner thoughts. "Wow."

"Yeah."

He smiled at Puck, "I guess I'll start hoping to never be in one of your scrapbooks."

"Trust me, you won't be."

—

Kurt softly stepped out of Sophie's room, flicking on the baby monitor in the living room as he spotted his husband bent over the desk in the corner of the small apartment. He smiled and walked over, wrapping his arms around Puck's shoulders. "Sophie's finally asleep," Kurt informed him as he buried his head in Puck's neck, placing a soft kiss there.

"Sara never slept through the night; I can't believe her daughter's so good at sleeping. Don't most kids wake up, like, all night?" Puck asked.

"You'd think, but maybe because she has the Hummel DNA in her, too, she has my love of sleep. I was a very well behaved baby," Kurt smiled. "I still can't believe we're parents. After all those fertility treatments and Sara's pregnancy, it just seemed like it would never happen. Best Christmas present ever."

"Kurt, she's been here for three weeks now."

"Still doesn't make it any less surreal and wonderful."

Puck snorted and Kurt finally lifted his head, resting his chin on his husband's shoulder instead of hiding his face in his neck. When he saw what Puck was working on, he raised an eyebrow, memories from years and years ago flooding his head, "You aren't breaking up with our daughter, are you?"

"No," Puck snorted again. He lifted up the scrapbook he was working on so Kurt could see it and said, "I thought I could start a new tradition. When I did that scrapbook for Santana, I definitely never expected to be married to you with a baby made from your sperm and my sister's egg. I think it's time to make a new tradition for the Creative Memories supplies. Plus I know Beth wants to see something like this for her sister when she comes up to visit for New Year's."

"What if we make this tradition even newer by me helping you with the book?" Kurt asked.

"Well, I could use your handwriting for the cover," Puck replied. Kurt kissed the top of Puck's head and brought over a chair. Grabbing a marker, he wrote out Sophie Elizabeth Hummel-Puckerman in his flowing cursive. "Definitely the best Christmas ever," Puck finally agreed, pulling Kurt in for a kiss.

A/N: For the Puckurt Chrismukkah 2011 Exchange. I ended up getting my lovely friend, Loony4Moony816/eyesarmslove. I hope everyone enjoys it, even if it's late!