Blaine [07-26-23 4:19]: Why doesn't a fire chief look out the window in the morning???

Kurt [07-26-23 16:37]: I have no idea, Chief. Why doesn’t a fire chief look out the window in the morning?

Blaine [07-26-23 5:12]: Because then he wouldn't have anything to do in the afternoon.

Kurt [07-26-23 17:15]: You made me wait half an hour for THAT?

Blaine [07-26-23 5:23]: I don’t text and drive, Mr. Hummel.

And so began the daily pun texts. They were bad. Really, really bad. And hilarious in the most stupid of ways. And if Kurt wanted to be a total ass about it, they were out of the scope of I'll call you, but Kurt didn’t want to be a total ass and the idea that Blaine wasn’t going to make this easy was oddly comforting. And annoying in the most adorable of ways.

Blaine [07-27-23 8:51]: What does Popeye do to keep his favorite tool from rusting?

Kurt [07-27-23 20:53]: Why do I know this is a double edged tool?

Blaine [07-27-23 8:54]: Because you have a dirty mind, Mr. Hummel.

Kurt [07-27-23 20:55]: That, I do. So tell me….what does Popeye do to keep favorite tool from rusting?

Blaine [07-27-23 8:57]: He sticks it in Olive Oyl.

Kurt [07-27-23 20:59]: You know, you’re making my decision much more painless, Chief Anderson.

Blaine [07-27-23 9:04]: Good! I’ll be expecting a call, begging for my affections tomorrow.

Kurt [07-27-23 21:13]: Mmmm, I think I might have lost your number.

Blaine [07-27-23 9:25]: Good night, Kurt.

Kurt [07-27-23 21:32]: Good night, Blaine. You nerd.

Of course, the easy thing to do would be to simply call Blaine, act as though there wasn’t this huge thing taking over his brain. Their friendship was clearly intact and outside of Dot, he really didn’t have much in the way of friends in Lima anymore anyway. But then, he thought about Blaine’s kissable lips and his fuck me eyes and his muscular yet gentle arms. And then he thought about how those arms felt wrapped around him and all of the glorious, amazing things his hands could do and everything got really fuzzy after that. The problem was, once Blaine’s arms were done holding him and his hands were done ruining him, a little boy still stood in the corner of his mind mucking up the entire picture.

Blaine [07-28-23 7:17]: This one’s from Adrian who is ticked off I sent the last one after he went to bed…

Blaine [07-28-23 7:18]: Some people's noses and feet are built backwards: their feet smell and their noses run.

Kurt [07-28-23 20:12]: Sorry. I was threatening the life of an incompetent fabric distributor. And see? Kids DO leak bodily fluids at an alarming rate...even in their jokes.

Kurt [07-28-23 20:13]: Tell him if he leaves now, he might catch his nose before it hops on a bus.

Blaine [07-28-23 8:20]: Nice. He just did an apple juice spit take. On my face.

Kurt [07-28-23 20:22]: So, um. Does Adrian know about me?

Blaine [07-28-23 8:25]: Only that I’m sending these jokes to a friend. And now he thinks that friend is really funny. Or, excuse me PUNNY. Ah, I am raising him right.

Kurt [07-28-23 20:28]: Ugh. I’m taking a bath and pretending this never happened. Good night, Blaine.

Blaine [07-28-23 8:29]: It’s bath time here too. Good night, Kurt.

And so went the insanity that was Kurt’s time to think. His office trashcan was filled with wadded up lists of pros and cons of kids, of men with kids, of Blaine in general, of dating someone in Lima, of Blaine’s lips – yes, he had a list of the pros and cons of Blaine’s lips and no, there was not a con to be had other than they belonged to a man who had a darling, curly-haired little munchkin named Adrian. Concentration had virtually disappeared during his waking hours and sleep was frantic and dream-filled. In this week alone, he’d woken up with more wood than a 13 year old who had just discovered his big brother’s porno magazines. Or big sister’s. Depending.

On a Saturday, he was digging through a quarter crate of freshly picked corn at his favorite farmer’s market when he heard it. Heard him. Heard – in the front of the barn where his back was turned and he was safely tucked behind more quarter crates topped with home-baked pies and breads and cookies.

“Adrian. Get over here now. I’m not telling you again.”

“But, it’s a tractor!”

“And it’s crowded and I want you next to me.”

“I’m mad at you.”

“Then we’re even. Now, help me pick some peaches and we can check out the tractor when we’re done.”

“Last time we picked peaches they were all too hard.”

“I think it’s because we they were from the grocery. They’ll be better here, don’t you think?”

Kurt bit his lip to keep from laughing and stuffed one more ear of corn into his bag before taking a deep breath and facing the music. The child. Whatever.

He sauntered over, taking in the little moppy-haired boy who was obediently counting peaches that his dad was picking out and gingerly putting them into their bag.

“You know, if you do the sniff test, you’ll get perfect peaches every time.”

Blaine looked up from his serious peach scrutiny and grinned, knocking the display with his bag, causing it to wobble and unseat a few of the stacked fruits. “Hi!” He caught a rolling peach and shot a look to Adrian who had melted into a giggle fit. “Wow. Hi. I, um…wasn’t expecting you.”

“I can see that.” Kurt looked at Adrian and smiled, pointing to Blaine. “Is he always this silly?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Kurt. I’m the one you’ve been sending funny jokes to this week.”

“OH! Hi! I’m Adrian! We’re trying to pick peaches, but…” Adrian caught one more rolling peach and plopped it back on the pile. “…it’s not going so good.”

“Can I show you a trick that works every time for me?” Without waiting for an answer, Kurt snooped through the peaches, picking one with good color and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then, he brought it to his nose and took in a good whiff. “Okay, Adrian, sniff this one.”

Adrian sniffed and lifted the peach to his dad. His dad who suddenly had fallen speechless. “It smells like a peach.”

“Right, put that one in your bag. Now, let’s try…” Kurt skimmed through the pile and found one with good color, but a little less soft. He gave it a sniff and passed it to Adrian. “…this one.”

Adrian sniffed and grimaced, lifting the peach to Blaine. “Doesn’t smell like much of anything.”

“Which one do you think will taste better?”

“The peachy one!”

“You can still get the other ones? Just put them in a brown bag for a few days to let them ripen some more.”

Blaine furrowed his brow and dug out the peaches he and Adrian had already picked, putting a few back after they both decided they didn’t pass the sniff test. “Is that how those peaches you had were so good?”

“Probably.” Kurt grabbed a bag and started filling it with his own fruit, desperately trying not to stare at Adrian. He was vibrant and adorable and it was fooling with the head game he’d been playing for the past week and it most definitely was going to screw up the pros and cons list he’d already created about adorable children. Not adorable. Just children.

Kurt felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down, tying his plastic bag. “Kurt, we’re goin’ to the shake shack for lunch. Do ya wanna come with us?”

“Adrian, now…I’m sure Kurt has things to do today. Don’t put him on the spot like that.” Blaine apologized with his eyes, and fidgeted with his bags.

Kurt reached out and touched Blaine’s arm, trying to get some eye contact. “It’s okay. Adrian, I’d love to come, but I can’t today. I’m having lunch with my dad.”

“Oh. Well, Dad, can I climb on the tractor now?”

“Yes. Go. Walk and do not push!”

Adrian flapped his hand at his dad and waited his turn to climb up into the seat, looking back to make sure his dad was watching.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t…I thought I’d introduce you…I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Blaine headed towards the tractor, his eyes darting between Kurt and watching his son.

“I think the only person uncomfortable here is you. What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I guess I had something…” Blaine sighed and kept an eye on Adrian awhile pulling Kurt away from the crowd. “I just don’t want to screw anything up. I didn’t know if you were ready to meet him and…”

“I wasn’t. But we’re here.” Seeing Blaine was still distracted and upset, he dipped his head down, insisting on his attention. “Blaine. It’s fine. He’s lovely.” They looked over to the tractor just in time to watch Adrian, now sitting in the driver’s seat, lean down and offer a hand to another little boy who wanted up, but couldn’t quite find the lift to launch himself high enough. “See? He’s one of the good ones. Like his daddy.”

Blaine’s shoulders finally relaxed and he smiled, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “Can you…can you take a picture of us? Me and Ade? I don’t have a recent one.”

“Sure…”

Kurt waited while Blaine pulled a reluctant Adrian off of the tractor and put him back up onto one of the oversized tires, away from the other kids. “Does this work?”

“Perfect.” Kurt took the shot and got their approval. “Can you…will you send that to me?”

“Yeah, let me…” He fiddled with his phone and Kurt’s buzzed seconds later. “…do it now or I’ll forget.”

The trio paid for their items and headed to their cars, Adrian hopping into his booster seat and pulling at his dad’s hair playfully when he buckled him in. Blaine left the door open and leaned against his car, waiting for Kurt to put his belongings in his own vehicle.

“I’m sorry I was…I’m sorry this is all so weird. I do better on text when I can’t see you.”

“And I’ve been better in person than I have been all week. I’m a mess.”

“You are?”

“Stop smirking, Mister. Thanks to you, I have to completely redo the directions for 2 of the 3 designs I sent in this week because I missed important steps. I mobilized 10 volunteers for an event next Saturday that isn’t happening until next month. I ran a red light at North Shore and Collette…don’t know how I ended up alive on that one. Um…what else?”

“Because of me?” Blaine took Kurt’s hands in his. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. And yes…all because of you.” Kurt shot a look to the curly mop in Blaine’s car. “And him. I’m so fucking confused, Blaine.”

“Are you confused or are you fighting what you already know?”

Their eyes finally met and Kurt had to chuckle. Blaine knew him too well. “Yes.”

“DAD! Hot! Come on!!”

Blaine rolled his eyes and stepped back, squeezing Kurt’s hands as he let go. “Well. I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Blaine, I would have gone to lunch with you guys today…I just can’t.”

“I understand.” Blaine closed Adrian’s door and went around to the driver’s side, rubbing Kurt’s arm as he walked by. “Do you need me to stop with the stupid texts, or…”

“No. I look forward to them, damn you.”

“Good. Have fun at your dad’s and…I’ll um…see you around?”

Kurt kissed his fingers and waved, ducking into his car quickly. This was more painful than he imagined, the daily goofy texts were much easier to handle. The temptation to hop into Blaine’s car and drive off into the sunset was intense. Insane. Overwhelming. Irresponsible and ridiculous.

His phone buzzed as he started his car.

Blaine [07-29-23 11:24]: The fruit magnate was a crook, so he was impeached.

Kurt [07-29-23 11:24]: You are a sad, strange little man, Blaine Anderson.

Blaine [07-29-23 11:25]: Yeah, but I’m irresistible.

Kurt put his car in reverse and pulled out of the lot. Irresistible wasn’t even the start of it.

***

Kurt [07-30-23 10:18]: How do you tickle a rich girl?

Blaine [07-30-23 10:45]: Why would I even want to?

Kurt [07-30-23 10:47]: Okay, now you’re not even playing nice. I finally have one and you’re changing the script.

Blaine [07-30-23 10:49]: Fine, fine…how do you tickle a rich girl?

Kurt [07-30-23 10:53]: Say "Gucci Gucci Gucci!"

Blaine [07-30-23 10:58]: I’m impressed! Career-centered and everything!

Kurt [07-30-23 11:02]: Have a good day, Blaine.

Blaine [07-30-23 11:04]: Ade says you need to work on it. He didn’t get it.

Kurt [07-30-23 11:07]: Well, school him on the important designers of our culture, Chief Anderson. You’re slipping on the job.

Blaine [07-30-23 11:09]: I’ll get right on that. Oh, the peaches? Perfection.

Kurt [07-30-23 11:12]: J Glad to hear it.

***

“You have a delivery, Kurt.”

Dot came out of her office, her ornery grin meeting Kurt’s confused expression. She flipped the light on in the conference room and motioned him in. In the middle of the table sat a single pink rose, vased with greenery and an enveloped card, perched in a plastic clip.

“When did this come?”

“About half an hour ago. Open the damned envelope. It’s making me all itchy.”

Kurt grabbed it and held it up to the light. “You mean nosey. Don’t confuse your physiology with your personality.”

“Open the damned thing or I’m making you take the midnight to 6 am on-call shift for a month.”

Kurt lowered the card and pressed his lips together. “Dot, I’m a volunteer. You can’t make me do anything.”

“Open. The. Card. You know it’s from Chief Anderson. I just want to know what it says.”

“I know no such thing. For all you know, I have admirers all over Ohio and New York.” Kurt pocketed the card into his vest, patted his chest and sauntered into his office, closing the door…until Dot’s firm (damn, she was strong for an old broad) hand stopped it before latching. “Kurt Hummel?”

“Yes?”

“I hate you.” He yanked the door open and Dot fell in, plopping into the seat across from his desk. “I’ll just sit here all day then. Not like the computers are working properly anyway.”

They stared each other down and when Kurt broke before she did, a fact he would deny if asked, he conceded and opened the envelope, reading to himself.

A pink rose for Grace – the only coherent word I could process the day I met you.

He blushed from his neck to his ears and handed the card to Dot, saying nothing.

“Oh Kurt. He’s got it bad.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Stop being an idiot.”

“I met Adrian Saturday.”

“And?”

“You’re right; he’s darling.” Kurt sighed and leaned back in his chair, inspecting the pocks in the ceiling panels. “The last thing I need is a guy with a kid. Darling or not. My plate is already so full.”

“Maybe, but honey? Everyone needs to leave room for a little dessert.”

***

Allen County Dispatch to Lima City Fire. 552 Linden St. Five-five-two Linden St. Residential fire. Time of dispatch 14:32. Lima City Fire. 552 Linden St. Residential Fire. Clear.

“Oh hell. Dot, I’ll stay…you go on.”

“Are you sure? You might be waiting for nothing.”

“Yep. Go. Turn your phone off – I’ll hear if we get dispatched.”

Dot collected her gatherings and headed toward the door before Kurt changed his mind. With a quick peck on his forehead she was out. Seconds later, however, he heard her cackle from the hallway.

The office door opened and he was faced with another vase. Another flower. Another note. The delivery man glanced back into the conference room at the previous delivery and smirked. “Someone’s playing hard to get.”

Kurt shook his head and thanked the man, taking the envelope as he set the gorgeous deep burgundy rose and its vase on his desk.

A burgundy rose for unconscious beauty. Every move you make…and you’re completely unaware.

Kurt sat and stared at the flower, fingering it’s delicate petals, spinning the vase, watching the florescent light change the shade of reds, from a rosé to a deep shiraz. The radio beeped and buzzed in the background, dispatch discussing school bus runs, squad runs in other townships and yes, the fire that was most definitely burning in central Lima.

Before long, his reverie snapped as his office phone rang, dispatch beckoning him to the scene. He touched his nose to the center of the opening flower and inhaled deeply before grabbing his bag and calling a local volunteer for assistance.

When they arrived, squads, engines, ladders, police, and of course spectators, were already blocking the street. Kurt and Jake, his volunteer, couldn’t even see the affected house without making it on foot for a bit.

“Okay, we’re here earlier than usual, Jake. It’s more difficult when you see an active fire and it’s harder on the clients, so if you need to stop, take a walk, just tell me.”

“I’ll be fine, man. You said it should be straight-forward, right?”

“Hopefully. Let’s go find the chief and we’ll go from there.”

Kurt radioed dispatch and they started their walk, shrugging their vests on and slowing as they approached, the heat of the fire smacking their skin even as far as a couple houses away.

Not seeing the elusive white helmet anywhere, Kurt approached the Captain.

“Hi. I’m Kurt with C-DRT. Do you kn-…”

“Oh! You’re Kurt. Nice to put a face to the name.”

“You…” Kurt blushed and rolled his eyes. Of course. “…yes. I’m Kurt and you’re…??”

“I’m Captain Harris. Looking for Chief?”

“That’s who I’m supposed to report to.”

“I’m your man for now. Chief just went in.”

Kurt looked up at the house, the back half engulfed in flames, a yellow-brown smoke billowing out of windows and holes made in the roof. A few firefighters were up on the structure, smashing at the shingles and flashing to open more allowing more heat to safely escape.

“He went in? It’s a fucking inferno!” Kurt swallowed hard and tried to find a brave face to plaster over his petrified one. “Okay…what do we ha-…”

From the house, a hiss, a WHOOSH and deep, muddled BOOM cut through the air.

"Shit."

Before Kurt could put the pieces together, a fireball of flames shot out from under the roof taking a wall…and Kurt’s heart…right along with it.