They stood and walked further into the woods, nodding to other park goers as they passed, quietly enjoying the evening, the lessening tension between them. “Kurt, can I ask you a question – like yours – it might sound really judgmental, but it’s not meant to be.”

“Go.”

“You don’t want to date guys with kids. But the man you most admire was a guy with a kid looking for a partner. How do you justify that in your mind?”

“My distaste for kids has no relation to being raised by a single dad. My dad kicked ass at raising me. He didn’t miss a beat.”

“So, why don’t you like kids? You were one…and seemed to evolve out of it pretty well.”

“Unless I fly to New York in a drunken rage and then I still act like one.”

“Okay, so your evolution is still in progress.”

“Mmm…it’s one of those things that’s been with me since I can remember. I hated my peers as a kid. I had very few friends. I was weird. I was the kid who always dressed up for school and not because my mom made me. Even in 1st grade, I just wanted to look nice. I preferred baking over making mud pies and sewing over sports. I had girls for friends because the boys were either teasing me or being so pretty I couldn’t think straight.” Kurt chuckled and bumped Blaine’s shoulder. “Couldn’t think straight. Get it?”

“Your puns need work, babe.”

“Hrmph. So, I was teased all the time. By the time I got to junior high, I had already decided children were awful and I never ever wanted to deal with the snots again. I could go all melodramatic and call it PTSD, but really? I’m just uncomfortable around them. I don’t know how to talk to them. I can’t stand bodily fluids and they seem to leak them at an alarming rate.”

Blaine threw his head back and roared at that, even more amused when Kurt didn’t even bat an eye.

“Why on earth is that so funny?”

“Sometimes, Kurt…you remind me of my grandmother.”

“I should probably be insulted, but for some reason, I think I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Do, because you know what else?”

“What?” They’d arrived at a pond. With a bench. And a sun, still high in the sky, but nearing its end for the day. They sat and Blaine dared to scoot in close enough to brush shoulders and maybe, if Kurt would let him, take his hand.

“Your description of yourself as a kid sounds like a boy in my 3rd grade class.”

“How so?”

“His name was Thomas. And if you called him Tom, he’d correct you. Very prim and proper, mind, but the correction was swift. It’s Thomas. T-H-O-M-A-S. Please call me Thomas."

Kurt laughed, more at himself than poor Thomas. "It's Kurt, with a K. K-U-R-T."

"See? And he wore ties and vests and sometimes even suits to school – every day. Even gym days. He carried a briefcase and he was horrible at sports. Recess had to be terrible for him because really, what else did you do on the playground but physical stuff?”

“I sat in the cement tunnels and braided girls’ hair. And then they’d try to kiss me.”

“They were very smart girls.”

“Except I didn’t like girls, Blaine.”

“I was speaking of the wanting to kiss you part.”

Their stories stopped with their breath and a rush of warmth filled Kurt's body. Until he put a freeze on it. “Don’t. This is hard enough.”

The pause was long and uncomfortable and the belt of a toad didn't even break it. But, Blaine tried. “I'm sorry."

Kurt offered a weak smile and leaned into his shoulder more, unable to ignore how secure he felt in that simple touch. "Go on."

"Yes…anyway, Thomas T-H-O-M-A-S was different. At the end of the year, we had this huge assignment where we had to pick someone from history and read a biography on them. Then, we had to write an autobiography as if we were them. We had to come to class in costume and present this whole thing.”

“That is an awesome assignment!”

“I know! It was a blast and everyone really threw themselves into it. Costumes and props and presentations. Some of us had power points and video and everything. So, Thomas – he chooses, of all people, Betsy Ross.”

“Oh no.”

“Yes. I mean, he didn’t go drag or anything. He changed up how we see her – wore a chauffer’s cap instead of a bonnet and a scarf in place of a shawl. He wore brown slacks and a peasant type shirt, so he still looked like a traditional boy but…”

“Did they tease him?”

“They tried. Our teacher kicked ass and didn’t tolerate that crap, but yeah. They tried. Kurt, he even learned how to quilt and brought fabric for all of us. There we were, 25 eight-year-olds with quilt squares and needles and thread trying to do a chain stitch.”

“I’m impressed you even know what the hell that is.”

“I was in love with him, Kurt. In. Love. I soaked up every word he said. And when he was done, I was the only fool who stood up to applaud him and I didn’t care.”

“Were you friends after that?”

“No. I just loved him from afar. I was into sports and boy stuff, so I avoided the teasing by conforming.”

“Pity. A boy like that would have been much happier had he known a boy like you noticed him.”

“I was confused too.”

“So, who was your subject for the assignment?”

Blaine blushed. Bright red, cheeks, all the way to his ears. He turned, waved Kurt away, embarrassed like Kurt had never seen.

“Blaine!? Who???”

“Remind me why I brought this up.”

“Because I remind you of Thomas the cross dressing quilter. Now out with it.”

Still turned, in a hushed voice, eyes closed, Blaine finally confessed. “Paul Bunyan.”

And Kurt did exactly what Blaine knew he’d do. He threw his head back and roared. He laughed so loud a small gaggle of geese that had been quietly floating about shot out of the water and flew away. “Paul Buny-…wasn’t he supposed to be this huge man?”

Blaine watched him and joined his laughter, trying to defend his decision and failing mightily. But he was earnest in his attempts. As earnest as he had been in 3rd grade that he was going to be, he didn’t care how much Cooper laughed at him, Paul Bunyan.

“Flannel shirts, suspenders and all?”

“And work gloves, boots and a cardboard ax because dad wouldn’t let me bring a real one to school.”

“I bet you got an A.”

“I got an A. I was the best hobbit-sized Paul Bunyan that ever was.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hand and squeezed, leaning in a little closer, still giggling with the image of a miniature Paul Bunyan. “I think I would have liked you even as a kid.”

“Too bad Betsy and Paul never got together…”

“I had a Thomas…come to think of it.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Dad made me play soccer. At least give it a try, Kurt. You might have fun! Hair brained ideas, as usual.”

“Poor Dad.”

“Pft. And of course, I didn’t have fun. It was horrible. But, I tried. And that’s where I met Chance. Chaz. Shit. I can’t remember his name!”

“Charlie?”

“No, not Charlie. Oh, he was delicious. Well, for a nine year old…as a nine year old. All dark skinned and dark moppy hair and…oh my.” Kurt stopped and grimaced. “I need to stop talking because this is starting to sound creepy, especially since I can't remember his name.”

“Call him Chance…I want to hear.”

“He was great at soccer. Everyone would just kick the ball to him because he’d take it to the goal every time. None of us learned a thing except how to avoid being a team. And of course, how to avoid giving the ball to Kurt because he’d miss the damned thing every time. Everyone teased me and the coach was no help. But Chaz…dammit Chaz was my fake ID name! Ha! Anyway, the kid never teased me. He never said anything to stop it, but he never teased me.”

“He was too busy playing the game and not being a douche.”

“Probably. Anyway, it was one of the last games of the season and the opposing team was working the ball down the field and I looked down and there it was right in front of me with no one there to challenge it. My big moment, right? I pulled my leg back and kicked the hell out of that ball. Except it was a Charlie Brown kick and I landed straight on my ass, in mud and the other team scored…because my team was too busy pointing and laughing at me to defend the ball.”

“Oh honey…”

“I sat there and cried. My ass hurt and I was wet and muddy. And I hated being muddy even more than I hated being laughed at. But then, Ch..CHASE! His name was Chase! Chase came out with a wet cloth from his mom’s cooler and he helped me up and he cleaned me off. Right in front of everybody. He patted my butt, he wiped my legs down, he squeezed the wet on the hem of my shorts…he didn’t care. And then, he told me to ignore everyone else and that next time, when I connected with the ball, I’d put it right into the goal.”

“Awww…did you guys become friends?”

“No. He didn’t even go to my school, but I knew I was in love with him and when he looked at me…his eyes were caramel colored – kind of a hazel-y brown…” Kurt looked over at Blaine and smiled into his caramel colored – kind of hazel-y brown eyes. “…just like yours. When he looked at me, I knew then and there that boys were the most beautiful creatures ever made.”

“Maybe…” Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder and sighed when Kurt rested his cheek on his head. “…maybe we were in love with each other before we ever met.”

“Maybe so.”

***

The silence that fell between them was comfortable again and after laughing attacks from the belch-y noises of a very excited frog, Kurt requested the one thing he'd held out on all evening. “I’d like to see a picture of Adrian now.”

Blaine beamed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly skimming through screens until he landed on the shot he wanted. “Kurt, meet my son Adrian.”

Kurt took the phone and saw the most ornery, cherubic little imp he’d ever seen before. Adrian’s hair was curly like his dad’s, but the curls were bigger, looser, lighter. He had Blaine’s eyes and joy emanated from every pore. In the photo, he was clearly looking up at someone who he loved very much. “Are you kidding me?”

“No??”

“Oh my god. Do you have one straight on?” Kurt handed the phone back, seeing Blaine in a completely new light. He was a dad. It wasn’t that he had a child, no. He was a dad. It was a thread in his make-up that he'd never known before. And it was beautiful.

“Um, probably…hang on. He’s a bit of a live wire, so getting a shot is difficult.” He scrolled a few more times and smiled at what he found. “This was after a bath so pardon the bare shoulders there…”

“Blaine, he’s beautiful.”

“He is…he looks more like his mom than me, but…”

“Well, thank god for small miracles.”

“Ha. Ha. Wait…do you want to see Maggie?”

“Yes.”

He scrolled some more and Kurt watched him, his eyes lit up like the sun, a bounce in his movements. He never would have thought Blaine had been holding anything back from him, but the ease that radiated from him now – now that he was free to talk and be and love on and about this child was enchanting.

“Okay, here’s Maggie, obviously before she got sick.”

Kurt took the phone again and smiled back at her smiling face. She was loaded with freckles and had the same hair color as Adrian, long loose waves framing her face. “Does he have her freckles?”

“No! It’s weird. I just figured freckles were a given, but, no.”

“She’s radiant.”

“She was until the very end, Kurt. I mean, her skin was gray and her hair was gone and she looked like shit, but she never stopped shining.”

“How long was she sick?”

“She was diagnosed when Ade was 3. We thought she beat it – got the first clean bill of health and everything. Then a few months later, she started losing weight again and it was everywhere. Uterus, stomach…liver.”

“Oh my god. So, did Adrian see…her that sick? I mean, what does he remember?”

“He did? Until the very end. He knew her tummy was sick and that she was tired and wore pretty scarves on her head. My mom took him the last few weeks because it just didn’t seem right for him to see her that sick. She pretty much slept away the last couple of weeks.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“Was your mom sick?”

“For 3 days. She got the flu, it went to pneumonia, they put her in the hospital and within 5 hours, she was gone. I went to school one day hearing her coughing in her bedroom and came home to a disaster.”

“I always try to tell myself that death is a gift to the dying, but…some days it’s no consolation.”

The sun had set completely and it was getting dark. Kurt took Blaine’s hand again and they stood, heading back to the car, hoping to beat the rangers who would most likely chastise them for being out in the park past dark. “Your family is beautiful.”

“It’s a little wobbly right now.”

“It’s still beautiful.”

***

The night was winding down and Kurt wanted to drive well below the speed limit to make it last a bit longer. Or take a detour via Columbus. Or St. Louis. Instead, he snuck in a few side routes. “So, tell me about Adrian. What does he like to do?”

“He loves to draw. We had a box at the Department in Findlay with all the paper to be shredded. I’d take it and give it to him once a week – stacked with skeins and skeins of it. He fills the pages with all sorts of things. Animals and buildings – he draws whole cities – and has these elaborate stories that go with them. I need a new paper resource. I’m too stubborn to buy him skeins of brand new paper, but he’s about out again.”

“Kaval’s Print Shop is up the road from the station – maybe they’d be able to save some for you?”

“Maybe, yeah. But, he’s always drawing. One of his preschool teachers told us to keep the coloring books away and once we did that, oh my god – it’s like his brain exploded.”

“Coloring books are the worst thing to give a creative kid.”

“I noticed. Quickly. He likes to act out stories – different than the ones he’s drawing. His mind amazes me.”

“Do you ever tape them?”

“Yeah, when I think of it. He comes up with them and wants to show me now, now, now and sometimes I’m just too fucking tired to bother, but…I should be better about it. We have some with Maggie in them.” Blaine chuckled at some of the memories. “By the time she was her most ill, she was just a prop. Here, Mommy. You can be the flag pole. He’d stick a flag in her hand and she’d just sit there holding it, waving it now and then for effect.”

“Aw, poor Maggie!”

“But, she’d be the best flag pole that ever was because he asked her to do it.”

“My dad would have tea parties with me. I mean, he’s this burly, flannel-shirted mechanic, but because I asked him to…”

“Yeah – that’s all it takes. It’s…it’s such a weird force of nature, parenthood.”

“Is he into sports like you were?”

“He plays soccer, but I didn’t get him signed up down here yet.”

“Well, let’s hope he’s more successful at it than I was.”

“Uh. He is. He’s little, but fast. Of course, all they do now is herd the ball around. It’s like a pack of Shetland Sheepdogs and somewhere in the pile is a ball moving around.”

“So, how is he doing? With Maggie gone?”

“He has nightmares. Sometimes he acts out in ways we never saw before. I mean, some of it is just that he’s getting older and realizing he has a voice in this world. I don’t want to stifle that, but it’s hard to tell when he’s trumpeting his voice or screaming at the injustice of it all. Bedtime is the worst. Worst, most awful worst.”

“He’s dreaming about her.”

“You think?”

“Probably. I used to dream about Mom almost every night…” Kurt disappeared into his own memories for a moment, jolting back when the car behind him honked because he’d sat too long at a green light. “…and it sucked because there she was! She was smiling and happy and beautiful. More than beautiful. She was luminous. And for me, whenever I’d talk to her or reach out for her she’d shake her head no and disappear. Every time. Every night.”

“Where have you been the last nine months? He can’t verbalize that to me…do you think that’s what’s going on?”

“Well, I surely don’t know but that’s what happened to me. I was older, so it’s probably different, but Dad's dreams were similar. It was one of the few things we could talk about at first.”

“I’ve had a few like that. It’s like she’s so happy to see me, but she won’t engage.”

“Exactly. And can you imagine as a kid? First your mom dies and then…it’s a wonder he doesn’t just burn the house down every night.”

“He knows where I keep the hoses.”

***

They pulled into the lot of the restaurant and Kurt rolled down a window and turned off his car.

Blaine leaned his head back on the headrest and huffed. “I don’t want to get out and go home.”

Kurt snuck his hand over to the door controls and locked them in.

“Uh, Kurt…I can still open the doors.”

“Shh. Let’s pretend.” He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face Blaine better, leaning back against his door, not interested in the idea of ending the evening either. “I’ve had a really amazing time tonight…I didn’t expect it.”

“Me either. So. What now?”

“Now…I need some time.”

“Okay.”

“I have a friend that tried dating a single dad a few years ago. I’m not comparing this to his situation, but…his experience is partially what makes me more leery than I'd be on my own.”

“It didn’t go well, I take it.”

“No. It was a custody ploy. My friend ended up being used as a babysitter – a nanny – an extra daddy. And I kno-…”

“You do know I’m not that guy? I’m not looking for a nanny. Or a babysitter. Or even another dad for Ade. And I wasn't looking for a partner either, but…I found one. For me. To walk with me.”

Kurt sighed softly when Blaine looked up at him, his eyes shining and cutting through the darkness inside the car, cutting through his resolve. “I do know. But you still have to give me time. If it was just us, I’d have my hiking boots on and we’d be on our way. But it’s not anymore.”

“So…what are we now?”

“Why…you have someone waiting in the wings?” Kurt smiled playfully, lost quickly when he met Blaine’s eyes, still sad. Still seeking answers that had yet to come.

“No. I guess I just…want something to hang onto.”

“How’s this?” He looked down at their hands, Blaine’s thumb tracing Kurt’s knuckles, a callous gently scratching his softer skin. “I’m still here. And that's important because 24 hours ago, I wasn't sure I could say that.”

When he looked up and met Blaine’s eyes, his breath hitched as it had the day they first met. Blaine was so naturally handsome, rugged and strong and his eyes…his eyes told of a tender heart and a genuine good-ness about him. Sometimes it simply took Kurt’s breath away.

“I’m so glad you’re still here.”

“But,” He squeezed Blaine’s hand when he looked down, clearly not wanting to hear but. “I don’t know…if this really is a time to redraw my line in the sand. I do know that I’ve never felt more passionately than when we were together and I’ve never hurt more deeply than I did this weekend. So…it’s worth taking some time.”

“Okay. I’ll give you all the space and time you need.” They shared the right-now space and time, fingers tangling together as words felt like intrusions in their shared thoughts. “So, this is where I want to kiss you.”

“This is where I have to say no.”

“I was afraid of that.”

Kurt smiled and brought their hands to his lips, kissing Blaine’s fingers. “It’s just that your kissing makes me unable to think.”

Blaine’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, but sadness still lingered. “Can I call you?”

Kurt shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll call you. And Blaine? I will call. If nothing else, I want to be the most loyal friend you’ve ever had. Our stories are too similar to walk away from that. But, I have to figure this all out.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Can you do me a favor when you go in to check on Adrian tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Give him a kiss on the forehead from me.”

***

Kurt [07-25-23 23:45]: So, I owe you a few of these. Good night, Blaine. And thank you for a wonderful evening.

Blaine [07-25-23 11:47] You don’t owe me anything. But you’re welcome – and sleep well.