I awoke the next morning, happier than I’d been in weeks. The feeling of “Holy shit, Kurt’s my boyfriend!” still hadn’t subsided and I was just so happy that I was waking up next to him.
I woke before him, and since I was closest to the nightstand I was able to reach for my phone (somehow not held back by Kurt’s ridiculously tight grasp) and checked the time. It was 6:48, which meant I had exactly 12 minutes to put my plan into practice.
I wriggled out of Kurt’s arms, not wanting to disturb him, scribbled a quick note and stuck it to the nightstand, and ran for the showers. I showered, changed, and didn’t bother taming my hair, and made it back to the dorm within five minutes. When I reached my dorm room Kurt was awake and waiting for me with a pout on his face.
“You left me,” he whined childishly, the slightest trace of a sleepy smile evident on his face.
“I’m sorry baby,” I said, playing along, skipping over to wrap my arms around him and hold him tightly. “I promise, it was for a good reason.”
“You’re right,” Kurt agreed, unable to keep a straight face any longer, “You smell much nicer now.”
I hit him on the shoulder, albeit gently, in the pretence of offence. We laughed together as Kurt hit me back and we erupted into a play fight before I realised what my plan was.
“Okay, we’ve gotta stop,” I said, still laughing.
“Why?”
“Because. I’m taking you out for breakfast.”
“Pfft. Why are you doing that?”
“What’s the time, silly?”
“...Seven. Coffee at seven,” Kurt said softly, smiling and looking deep into my eyes. “It feels like that’s our thing. Coffee at seven, coffee and bagels or croissants... Cookies for you afterwards in my amateurish attempt at paying you back...”
“It’s totally our thing,” I said, taking his hands in mine. “It’s ours.”
Kurt leant in and kissed me softly, before leaning back and suddenly saying, “BUT WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO?! I DON’T HAVE TIME TO DO MY SKIN CARE REGIME AND I DON’T HAVE TIME TO WASH MY HAIR AND I DON’T HAVE TIME TO IRON MY OUTFIT FOR TODAY!”
“Calm down, baby,” I said, laughing. “You can wear something of mine. At least, for breakfast anyways. Then we can come back and you can shower and iron and change to your heart’s content.”
“But I-“
“Coffee at seven, remember?”
Kurt smiled. “Okay. Gimme something.”
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We strolled through the Dalton grounds the way we usually did: hand-in-hand, walking slowly and silently, concentrating on the beautiful scenery and sneaking glances at each other wherever possible. It was moments like those that made me realise how lucky I truly was. Kurt was wearing my Dalton sweatshirt and a pair of my old jeans. He looked so un-Kurt, but at the same time, he was so... sexy. Everything about it was just right.
The guys always joked that I was a hopeless romantic and that I’d be of better use in a Shakespeare sonnet. I couldn’t help but be this smitten by Kurt.
We reached the door of the coffee shop just as I looked down at my watch to find it was exactly 7:00am. I squeezed Kurt’s hand and moved to open the door, but felt Kurt stiffen and hesitate next to me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked gently.
“...What if people see what I’m wearing?”
I laughed and pushed Kurt into the coffee shop, directing him towards our usual table and forcing him to sit down. I kissed him on the cheek, patted his hand when he began to pull out some money and swiftly sprinted towards the counter to order our usual. It was a quiet morning: there were only three other people in the shop, meaning that we were served quickly. Kurt looked up from where he was texting Mercedes with a surprised expression on his face.
“Wow, that was quick,” he said, taking everything off the tray and organising it for us.
“No line,” I replied simply, giving Kurt a warm smile and starting my meal.
For us, coffee at seven had slowly turned silent over the past view coffee dates. It wasn’t from a lack of interest or from awkward tension or anything like that. We’d just past the awkward stage. We were comfortable with each other. We’d both blurt out the most ridiculous things and the other would either laugh or find some way to turn it into a sexual innuendo. It was comfortable. It was right.
And so we sat there in silence, eating away until a thought crossed my mind.
“Kurt?” I interrupted Kurt mid-bite into his croissant, which caused a drip of butter to slide down his chin.
I laughed as I leant forward and wiped it off with my thumb. “Can’t take me anywhere,” Kurt said, reaching for a napkin to clean the remainder off his chin and wipe the butter off of my thumb.
“Gosh, I know, I don’t know why I do it,” I teased, before remembering what I had thought of just moments before.
“So Kurt... I was thinking... that maybe you’d like to come home with me and meet my parents?”
I looked at Kurt to gauge his reaction: his eyes had widened and I sensed the slightest touch of fear, however I also saw the many different outfit combinations crossing his mind as he immediately dreamt of the parent-approved son’s-boyfriend outfit.
“...Kurt?”
Kurt snapped back into the conversation. “Sorry. Uhm. Yeah. I guess it makes sense, I mean, you’ve met my family. And New Directions. They’re my family too. So yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. It’d be great to meet your family and get to know them and to see where my boyfriend grew up and OH!”
Kurt had a suspicious grin on his face and his eyes had lit up considerably.
“What?”
“Please tell me your mom will show me some baby pictures!”
“...never. We don’t have any. Ever. I wasn’t a baby. What?”
“Some bathtub pictures? Cute little soapy Blaine with a rubber ducky?! Or maybe running around the house naked on a hot day? Jumping in sprinklers?”
“...I wasn’t a child. I didn’t have a childhood. There are no pictures. You must have me confused with someone else.”
“Blaine...”
“Okay, okay. She might. But for my sake, I’m hoping she won’t.”
“You know it’s okay if she does, right? I mean, you’ve seen all of my baby pictures.”
“But that was different, Kurt,” I said softly. “You were crying over pictures of you and your mom on the anniversary of her death.”
“Still... It’d be nice to see how you were back then.”
“Back when?” I asked confusedly.
“Back when I didn’t know you. The years that I should have known you.”
“...Kurt?”
“Yeah?”
“That is possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. You know that?”
Kurt imitated a pretentious toss of the hair before saying, “I try,” and winking at me seductively. I laughed and reached out to hold his hand in mine.
“You want to come?”
“Sure. I’d love to. But... could you tell me more about your family?”
“You know about my family, baby. We covered that on our second, non-hormonally charged date.”
Kurt laughed, “Yes, very true. But... What are they like? You only went over the basics.”
“Ah. Well. My father-“
“Bruce, right?”
“Yeah. Bruce. He’s very... he’s got good common sense. He’s straight to the point on practically everything, so don’t ever skip around the point with him. But he’s very supportive of me and my... life choices, as some people call it.”
“You mean to say, he’s pro-gay?” Kurt said incredulously.
“Hard to believe, but it’s true. He was easier to tell than my mom.”
“Kate, right?”
“Yep, that’s her. She’s fine with it and all, but I think she just so desperately wanted another daughter-in-law.”
“But you have a real sister! What about Charlotte?!”
I laughed, “She’s nine! And Mom’s very against the whole concept of growing up before your time, so I think Charlotte’s the only daughter whose mom doesn’t buy makeup and lingerie and fake tan for their nine-year olds.”
“Fair enough. Kids are so trashy these days.”
“I know... But yeah. Mom will be very welcoming and polite and very courteous until she gets to know you. She gets anxious around company, but I think once she sees how comfortable we are together,” Kurt smiled, “...I don’t think she’ll have a problem.”
“That’s good. You have such supportive parents. So do I. I thought that’d be ridiculously hard to find in Ohio.”
“Me too, but somehow it works out, hey?”
Kurt nodded, took a sip of his coffee and continued his questions.
“So what about your siblings? Charlotte? And... Your older brothers... Gosh. I know their names! I do!”
“It’s okay,” I smiled, surprised that he’d even remembered my parents and Charlotte without ever meeting them. “Dylan and Donovan.”
Kurt laughed, “That’s right! Your mom was still a bit off from her epidural and her other meds that she decided to put alliteration to good use!”
“Good ol’ Mom.”
“She sounds fun when she’s had prescription drugs.”
“Oh, she was heaps of fun when she had Charlotte. Dyl, Donovan and I abused it to no end. We asked for everything and she kept saying yes. Then she called me Bill Clinton and accused me of having an affair with my wife.”
Kurt laughed again, and I noticed a stray curl from his hair laid just above his eyebrows. I moved forward to push it back without thinking, and continued filling Kurt in.
“Dylan’s the twenty-six year old. He’s married and moved out and everything. He and his wife, Katherine, come back once a month for a family dinner. He’s like Dad in that he’s straight to the point, but he can be very sarcastic, so you’ve really got to watch out for that. But he’s a really good guy. He’s very sporty, so he’ll go on about football for hours if you let him. He used to be rather blunt and careless with what he said, but I think Katherine beat that out of him, bless her.”
“Anything I should know about Katherine?”
“No, just that she’s very much like Dylan. She’s not much of a girly girl. I think that’s why they get along.”
“It’s nice to have someone you just connect with and relate with on every level,” Kurt said, squeezing my hand.
I squeezed his hand back. “I know.”
After a few moments silence, Kurt prompted me to continue. “And Donovan?”
“Ahhh. Donovan. He’s the butch one. It’s all sports, beer and girls with him. And it took him the longest to come to terms with who I am. He still doesn’t really mention it or acknowledge it in public, but he’s not against it. I guess he wanted another sporty brother and once Dyl moved out to live with Katherine, he lost that. I’m at Dalton with my Warblers. I don’t exactly scream ‘butch’.”
“Especially not with that gel you put in your hair,” Kurt teased.
“Hush you!”
“Sorry. Continue.”
“Okay. Well... uh... Dyl’s quiet around new people. He got that from Mom. I’d probably just find some common interest. He does like Les Mis, I think because Mom took him a while back. Fond memories. So you could probably talk about that.”
“Your brothers sound kinda cool.”
“Hey, you’ve got Finn!”
“Yes, but he’s still trying to talk to me about boobs and actually thinks you’ll develop them.”
“WHAT?”
“Yeah. He knows you’re a guy, but the whole ‘partner’ thing makes you the feminine one, apparently.”
“Oh. Cool. That’s... right...”
“Ha! Don’t let it bother you! Carole will get to him. Anyway... Charlotte! Tell me about her!”
My face lit up and I could feel myself about to gush. I definitely had a better relationship with Charlotte than anyone else in the family. She was the most accepting and understanding, and she shared my passion for music. In some ways, she was my best friend.
“Charlotte has the most amazing voice in the world, and she’s addicted to musicals, so talk to her about those and you’ll be right on track. We always do a little duet when I’m home, and we’ll record it. I’ve got the files on my laptop, actually. She’s starting to get interested in shopping, though she’s actually really modest and age-appropriate so that’s not really a bad thing. She LOVES baking, especially when I come home and we bake cupcakes together and we sing in the kitchen. She and I play chess a lot, too. She’s unique. Very mature for her age. But at the same time she still has this incredible imagination and she can just be herself and-“
“Blaine!” Kurt cut me off, “Breathe!”
“Sorry,” I said awkwardly, looking down at our intertwined hands on the table.
“It’s okay. I see how much you love her. I was just afraid you were going to hyperventilate or something.”
“I find it hard to stop, don’t I?”
“She sounds amazing, I don’t blame you.”
“She is. I love her. She’s my best friend, I guess.”
Kurt retracted his hands with mock outrage. “I thought I was your best friend!”
“You’re my best friend over the age of ten,” I laughed. “And you’re my boyfriend. You get top spot, baby, don’t worry.”
“Oh, okay. I won’t.”
We sat there talking about my family in-depth for quite some time before finally making the mutual decision to head back to the dorm. Being the gentlemen we were, we cleared our table, depositing the tray into the slot on the side of the counter and placing our trash in the bin provided. We linked arms and took two steps outside the shop before Kurt stopped me.
“Hang on, I think I left my phone in there! Idiot! I’ll be right back.”
“Do you want me to get it for you?”
“No, it’s okay, it’ll only take a second,” he said, before darting inside. I turned my attention to my own phone, where I’d seen Jeff’s insane texts (“Where’s my chicken pot pie?! DID YOU EAT MY PIE?! WHY IS YOUR BED MUSSED?! WHY ARE KURT’S CLOTHES DRAPED OVER THE SOFA? WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE?! BLAINE!”) and scrolled through them all to see if there was a single one worth responding to. It had only been a couple of minutes when Kurt re-emerged from the shop with his hands behind his back.
“What are you hiding?” I asked suspiciously.
Kurt pulled his arms around from behind his back to give me a single chocolate and M’n’M cookie wrapped in cellophane with a ribbon around it.
“Aw, thankyou baby,” I thanked Kurt, still touched by the simplest of gestures that really meant more than just a cookie.
“Anytime,” Kurt said, leaning forward to kiss me deeply, take my free hand in his, and lead me back to the dorm.
Coffee at seven had once again been a magical experience.