"Daddy?" Mason asked sweetly, "Will you help me build my train track?" He had just dumped the wooden pieces all over the green carpet and was looking at them. He didn't like building his train track alone. If he built it alone, he had nobody to play with and that was never fun.

"Sure, Mace, I would love to build your train track with you."

Mason looked up at Blaine. His Daddy was smiling at him through dark lashes, and he was still wearing his pajamas—a pair of blue plaid flannel pants and a white tee shirt. But there was no disputing it, Mason's favorite part of his Daddy on a Saturday morning was his hair.

On Saturday morning, his Daddy left his hair like it was, and Mason absolutely loved playing with the curls. If you pulled them out far enough, (but not too far, because that would hurt Daddy) they would bounce right back to where they had been before.

Mason's hair wasn't like that. Mason's hair was a little bit curly, but not like Daddy's.

Blaine stood up and Mason gave his biggest smile to him. Then he frowned.

"Where's Papa, Daddy? I never got to say good morning to him!"

"Mace—"

The door to the playroom opened. "I'm right here, Mace, don't worry," said Papa Kurt.

Mason jumped up and ran over to hug Kurt's leg. Kurt patted his back and Mason squeezed a little harder. Then he let go and sat back down where he was. He watched as Papa Kurt stepped towards Daddy Blaine and they pressed their lips together.

Mason tilted his head to the side.

"Why you do that?" he asked with curiosity obvious in his voice.

Blaine sat down in front of Mason and Kurt kneeled down right next to him.

"You know how you just came and hugged me because you were happy to see me?" Kurt began. Mason nodded. "Well, I was happy to see your Daddy, and so I gave him a kiss. I love him very much. Do you understand now?"

Mason nodded. Then he crawled over and planted a sloppy kiss on Papa Kurt's mouth.

"I love you, Papa Kurt."

"Oh," said Kurt, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

"I think what Papa Kurt means to say," Blaine said, "Is that usually only daddies kiss on the mouth."

"But Aunt Quinnie kisses Uncle Jeff like that! And Auntie Brittany kisses Auntie Santa like that!" Mason protested.

"Well," said Papa Kurt, "It's also okay if mommies kiss daddies, or mommies kiss mommies."

"Oh. But what if I want to kiss you?"

"If you want to kiss me, you can kiss me on the cheek. Or you can just give me a big, big bear hug."

"Okay. Can we make my train track now?"

"Of course," responded Blaine. Kurt stood up and started walking towards the door.

"Where's Papa Kurt going?"

Kurt looked down at Mason. "I'm going to get something special ready. Today is your birthday, did you remember that?"

"Oh. Okay. You can go then," Mason replied, looking down at the wooden pieces. Kurt laughed, then walked out and closed the door behind him.

"So how do you want to build this?" Daddy Blaine asked.

"I want to go in a circle here," said Mason, gesturing around the floor, "and then over there…"

---

"It smells good in here," Mason remarked, looking down at his chicken noodle soup.

"You think so?" asked Kurt. "What you smell is a special treat for later. Can you eat another bite of your soup for me?"

Mason reached down and dipped his fingers into it, taking them out and sucking the juice off of them.

"No, no," said Kurt, taking his hand and wiping it off with a paper napkin. "Use your spoon."

Mason frowned. He didn't like to use his spoon. It was too hard to hold it in his hand without the soup spilling off of the end. But he wanted to make his Papa Kurt happy today, so he tried using it again.

"dis food is yummy," said Mason, bringing another spoonful to his mouth and slurping it up.

"Do you want some peas too?"

---

"Daddy Blaine," said Mason, snuggling further into his father's arms, "I can't fall asleep."

"Well, Mace, sweetie pie, you need to or else we won't be able to celebrate your birthday."

"But Daddy, what if I can't fall asleep? Then we won't celebrate my birthday?"

"I know you can fall asleep, Mason. Just lie still and close your eyes. Remember that trick I told you about, imagining sheep?"

"Yes," said Mason, looking up at Blaine. He was silent for a moment. "Daddy, will you play me your gi-guitar?"

Blaine smiled. His son seemed to love music just as much as both of his fathers did.

"Of course, Mace, if you fall asleep."

"Okay, Daddy," Mason happily agreed.

Blaine stood up and went to find his guitar and Mason stared at the ceiling. He liked the stars that Papa Kurt had glued up there, because they lit up when it was dark outside. He just thought it was funny that they were still up there in the daytime, because you never saw stars in the daytime.

"Is it alright if I sit in the rocking chair?" Blaine asked when he came back with his guitar. He had come in so quietly that Mason hadn't noticed that he was there.

Mason nodded a little bit and then curled up under his special fuzzy brown blanket. His father plucked at the guitar strings for a while—it was familiar to Mason. Daddy Blaine had always told Mason that he was 'tuning' his guitar, whatever that meant.

And then Blaine started to play the song. It was one of Mason's favorites and Blaine new it always put him to sleep.

Mason relaxed as Blaine played the first few chords softly. And then Blaine started to sing quietly.


You'll remember me when the west wind moves

Upon the fields of barley

You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky

As we walk in fields of gold.


Mason tried to do what his Daddy told him to do. But when he tried to count the sheep his Daddy told him to, he just couldn't seem to. Mason yawned.


So he took his love

For to gaze awhile

Upon the fields of barley

In his arms he fell as his hair came down

Among the fields of gold.


Mason stopped trying to think about things for a while. He watched Blaine strum the golden guitar and his lips move as he sang.


Will you stay with me?

Will you be my love?

Among the fields of barley

We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky

As we lie in the fields of gold.


Mason murmured something inaudible—perhaps he had been singing along with the words, but Blaine couldn't tell, for his son had said it too quietly.


See the west wind move like a lover so

Upon the fields of barley

Feel his body rise as you kiss his mouth

Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly

And there have been some that I've broken

But I swear in the days still left

We'll walk in the fields of gold

We'll walk in the fields of gold.


Blaine watched as his son's eyes fluttered closed and his breathing slowed. Though he knew Mason was asleep, he continued to sing.


Many years have passed since those summer days

Among the fields of barley

See the children run as the sun goes down

Among the fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves

Among the fields of barley

You can tell the sun in his jealous sky

When we walked in fields of gold

When we walked in fields of gold

When we walked in fields of gold.


The last line was drawn out, and softer than the others. Blaine smiled fondly as his son sank deeper into sleep, Mason's face innocent and peaceful in the summer light.

"Sleep tight," Blaine whispered.

---

When Mason woke up, his brown blanket was tangled around his legs and he was hot. He squeezed his eyes shut because the light that streamed in through his window was too bright for him.

"Papa Kurt!" he called, and he opened his eyes slowly. And then louder, "Papa Kurt!"

Mason didn't know why but he always liked it better when Papa Kurt came to get him after he woke up. But he liked it better when Daddy Blaine put him to bed. Or when both Daddy Blaine and Papa Kurt put him to bed.

A moment later, Mason's door opened and no other than Daddy Blaine appeared.

"Good afternoon, Mason," he said softly, and smiled his huge toothy smile.

"What are you doing, Daddy Blaine?" Mason asked, frowning a bit. "I want Papa Kurt." His lips squeezed together into a pout and he tucked his chin into his chest.

"Mace, honey, remember what we talked about before your nap? About how today is your birthday and Papa Kurt is getting ready for it?"

"Oh," said Mason. His pout and frown disappeared, but his forehead wrinkled as if trying to remember.

"Everyone is waiting for you, Mace, sweetie pie."

"Okay," Mason replied, smiling, and reached up to allow his father to hoist him up onto his hip.

"Are you ready?" Blaine asked.

Mason nodded rapidly.

"I'm going to cover your eyes, okay?"

He continued to nod until Blaine's hand had covered his face. Mason blinked a few times but he could only see black.

Blaine carried Mason around the house a couple times, trying to confuse him so that he didn't know where they were going. Not that it would matter in the end. When Blaine asked Mason where the thought they were, Mason just laughed and said, "too confusing, Daddy!"

"Are you ready?" Blaine whispered to his son when they finally reached the kitchen.

"Yes Daddy!" Mason replied, obviously excited.

When Blaine pulled the hand off of Mason's eyes, he gawked in wonder. Most of his 'family' was there. His real Uncle Finny and Auntie Rachel, and Aunt Quinnie and Uncle Jeff and Auntie Brittany and Auntie Santa and Auntie Tina and Uncle Mikey. Mason was too delighted to notice the fact that a few of his 'aunts' and 'uncles' hadn't been able to attend.

Kurt pulled out a newer digital camera and began to snap away as Blaine put Mason down and the little boy proceeded to hug each one of those visiting him.

"Mason, Sweetheart, I think that we are going to open your presents and then eat some dinner and then have cake, okay?"

Mason didn't give a direct response. He instead said "Yum! Cake! Yummy!"
Mason allowed Quinn to lead him to the family's living room and sit him down in the big armchair by the fireplace. She told him that it was the King's throne and then Uncle Jeff placed a paper crown on his head. Mason could see that it had been colored with crayon and he briefly wondered who had made it.

Then the presents started to come. Mason didn't really know what all of them were, and he didn't really know which ones he liked and which ones he didn't like so much. He did know that he liked the big shiny red fire engine Auntie Rachel had given him and he definitely liked being able to tear the ribbons and wrapping paper off of all of the boxes.
Eventually Mason finished opening his presents from everyone who had come and had been prompted by Kurt to say thank you to everyone, Blaine told Mason that it was time for the big present from both of his fathers.

Mason looked up as Blaine dragged in a huge box wrapped in shiny dark blue paper.

"It's bigger than me!" Mason exclaimed, and jumped up from the chair. His crown fell off in the process and his golden curls were askew, face alight with joy.

The young boy bounded over to the box and began clawing at the paper. It was hard for him at first, but he declined all offers of help and eventually came off easily enough.

Mason opened the cardboard box and stared in. His Papa Kurt helped him lift out what was inside onto the living room carpet. Mason grinned and announced, "it's a try-cle!"

"Tricycle," Blaine patiently corrected.

"Tri-cy-cle," Mason slowly repeated his father's words.

Mason quickly lost interest in the tricycle, as any three year old with a short attention span would, and ran over to Mike.

"Uncle Mikey?" he asked, clinging onto the dancer's leg. "I'm hungry. Will you give me a piggy back ride?"

"Sure, bud," he said, and smiled. Then he bent down and allowed Mason to climb upon his back.

"Shall we?" asked Kurt, gesturing in the direction of the dining room.

A few minutes later, everyone had managed to get themselves around the table somehow. It was quite cramped, with so many people, but they seemed used to being near each other so it didn't matter.

Kurt appeared in a matter of seconds with a huge bowl. It was glass and had steamed up on the sides. Kurt placed it in front of Mason, close enough that he could see what was inside but not too close.

Once again a smile lit up Mason's face. "Poodles and cheese!" The table laughed at this proclamation, finding it funny that their friends' son called noodles poodles, and furthermore, that he called 'mac n' cheese' 'poodles and cheese'.

Kurt served Mason a plateful and the small boy happily dug in.

---

Blaine had told Mason not to blow out the three candles on the chocolate cake until everyone had stopped singing. Kurt had turned the lights out and pulled his digital camera out again.

And then they all started to sing. Mason thought their voices were very pretty. Mason liked Auntie Rachel's voice the best though, besides his Daddy Blaine and Papa Kurt's. They all said it was because she went and sang for a lot of people on a place called Broadway. Mason didn't know what that was, but he thought it sounded very big and exciting. Maybe he would go there when he grew up too and sing like Auntie Rachel did.


Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday dear Mason

Happy Birthday to you.


Everyone around the table clapped and Mason took a big deep breath and blew at the little flames. He got two of them out and had to take another breath for the last one. When they were completely out, Blaine turned the lights back on and the cake was cut.

Mason picked up his piece with his hands. Nobody seemed to mind, so he just ate it that way. Then he licked the frosting off of his fingers and wiped his hand on a napkin.

"Yummy yum yum," he commented once he was completely finished. He patted his belly to indicate that he was full and happy.

Mason watched as all of the big people finished eating their cake and then eventually they all decided that they needed to go home. Mason was sad to see them go, but the night had been a lot of fun.

"Bye bye!" he said, waving as Auntie Brittany and Auntie Santa's car drove away. They were the last two people to leave. "Bye!"

---

"G'night," a very tired Mason whispered before falling fast asleep.

"Goodnight, birthday boy," both Kurt and Blaine said to him at the same time before standing and walking out of the bedroom.

"Our birthday boy," Kurt murmured.

"Our birthday boy."