“Are you sure you’re okay to hold him?” I murmured, gently shuffling my son from one hip to the other as Blaine tucked the baby bag into the overhead compartment.

“Of course,” he reassured me for the hundredth time.

As Blaine took the window seat and settled himself in, I grabbed the attention of a passing flight attendant.

“Could we please get a seat belt extension for the little one?” I asked.

The man returned quickly, placing the extension in my spare hand. “There you go,” he all but drawled, glancing down at the baby in my arms, briefly. “He’s beautiful, looks just like you.” He winked before sauntering away, leaving me spluttering in his wake.

Blaine frowned, glaring after the daring flight attendant. “People really need to stop flirting with my husband.”

“I can’t believe how many people think I’m Jamie’s biological Dad,” I smiled dreamily, leaning over to pass the small child over to Blaine, who took his son, resting him against his chest with care as he attached the seatbelt.

“I can’t believe how many people use the ‘your son’s beautiful’ pick up line, and when I’m right here,” Blaine muttered in an attempt to appear disgruntled even though the softness in his eyes spoke otherwise as he rocked Jamie gently to sleep.

I took my own seat and buckled myself in. Settling back, I turned to observe the way Blaine held Jamie, so carefully, so comfortable. It was a beautiful picture, better than I ever could have imagined when we first decided to adopt. I reached over to brush at the soft blonde hair on our son’s head, shushing my jealous husband as I did so.

“Oh please,” I said quietly. “If I had a nickel for every time someone, male or female, flirted with you, and gushed over what an adorable father you are, or how handsome you are, or how much they want to jump your bones-”

Blaine snorted and interrupted me. “When has anyone ever said that?” He raised his eyebrows at me over Jamie’s head, but the pink tinge in his cheeks showed that he at least knew there was truth behind what I was saying and was having the sense to feel slightly embarrassed by it.

“The point is…” I stifled a yawn, shuffling impossibly further down into my seat, thankful I had chosen an outfit that wouldn’t wrinkle from the flight. “That we’re both hot and more talented than anyone else in New York and had the best wedding ever and have an adorable little baby boy and everyone else is just jealous.”

Blaine chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb the baby who had fallen asleep pretty much as soon as he settled into his fathers arms. “Exactly”, he whispered, rubbing small circles across the blue onesie covering Jamie’s back. “And you’re also rambling and exhausted. I told you I could have gotten up for this little guy; you don’t need to be getting up all through the night.”

“Yes,” I answered, smirking at my caring husband. “And I attempted to take you up on that offer, but you kept on snoring, dead to the world as per usual, even with my persistent kicking you in the shins to wake you.”

“So that’s why there’s a bruise on my leg.”

I laughed loudly, quickly covering my mouth to stifle the sound. That man continued to shock me with how adorable he looked when he was surprised or thoughtful, or any myriad of emotions really, even after all these years. “And it’s also why I’m so tired.” I yawned again, covering my mouth politely with my hand, as I felt the rumble of the plane around us, taxiing away from the airport terminal.

Our conversation was halted as the airline staff began the safety announcements, both of us quiet although we weren’t really listening to the details of how to survive if we landed in water, a scenario that seemed unlikely on our flight from New York to Ohio. Soon enough however, after a smooth take off, we were in the air and on our way back to Lima.

I turned my gaze to watch Blaine with our son once more. He was tenderly rocking the small boy, who had become startled by the unusual feeling of the plane taking off around him. Blaine began making quiet soothing noises in those tiny ears, humming along a senseless tune. I smiled to myself; there was nothing that could calm Jamie faster than the sound of Blaine’s voice, as much as I hated to admit it. But I knew the feeling, Blaine’s voice just had that quality about it, it was beautiful and passionate and simply comforting. 

“Do you need me to get you anything?” I offered.

Blaine shifted Jamie slightly on his chest, manoeuvring so that he had a spare hand to clasp my own. “No I’m fine, you should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?” I frowned, although I knew my eyes were drooping dangerously low.

“Definitely,” Blaine nodded. “You look like you’re struggling to stay awake, and we don’t want to waste your crazy ability to sleep on planes. Not to mention I think I owe you one for how much you’ve been getting up in the night to look after our son.”

My stomach flip-flopped at his words. ‘Our son.’ I was still getting used to those words falling so easily from his lips, to the startlingly perfect picture that was Blaine being a father. It was moments like that when I just wanted to watch him looking after Jamie, speaking to him in hushed tones while he bustled around our apartment, or as he carefully changed the boys diapers or clothes, or as he sang him sweet lullabies that he’d written himself to put the baby down for a nap.

But I could barely suppress yet another yawn and the images of Blaine looking after our son, the warm presence of his hand in mine and the comfort of him beside me had my eyes struggling to stay open and I could already feel my breathing evening out. I leaned over once more, to place a soft kiss to Jamie’s head, and took an extra moment to place my lips delicately to my husbands, smiling into the familiar feeling, before falling back into my seat once more.

I barely heard the “I love you, Kurt” that was whispered to me through the noise of the cabin a moment later, or the tender kiss to my temple.