@lilyvandersteen once upon a time you tagged me in a post, saying that I should draw some inspiration from it
Here it is after God knows how long
On AO3
Usually, going grocery shopping with Dan is nothing to write home about.
Well, except for Dan, who seems particularly excited to talk about the “cocoflowers” and the “fissies” he saw in the supermarket to his grandfather, who usually listens far too intently.
Anyways.
This time around, though, Kurt thinks he will definitely be the home telling the story to his father because one minute, Dan was by his side, sucking on his pointing finger while holding the hem of his jacket, and the next, Dan is not there anymore.
All it took for this disappearing act to occur is Kurt reaching up for the good box of mac’n’cheese.
Damn you, Annie’s.
“Dan?”
At first, Kurt is not particularly worried. It’s not unusual for Dan to just wander around, particularly this close to the snacks aisle, and he returns to Kurt’s side the minute he hears his name.
But as the seconds feel more and more like leaded minutes, Kurt feels a cold sweat covering his back.
“Dan?!”
The basket lays somewhere on the floor, and now Kurt is running through the supermarket, slaloming between bewildered customers to find his son.
“Excuse me?”
Someone approaches behind him and Kurt twirls on his heel. A stranger carries Dan on his hip, a small smile on his lips.
Now let’s pause for a moment here, as Kurt’s brain fries just a little bit at the sight of said stranger.
The part of his brain that is not rushing on adrenaline, coffee and worries anyway.
Kurt may be a parent, but he has eyes (and hormones): the man holding his kid looks …
Good.
Very good.
That jacket, which is the same one Kurt is wearing, what a man of good taste for sure, does wonder for his shorter but sturdier figure.
Daddy likey.
Speaking of Daddy, back to our tale.
“Dan!”
Before going to Kurt, Dan pats the stranger’s cheek in a gesture so reminiscent of his own father’s goodbye that he has to bite his lips to keep from laughing.
“Where have you been?” Kurt asks as he pulls Dan close to him. “And who are you?” he adds, turning to the stranger who is, damn him, still smiling at them with a smile Kurt wants to taste.
Since things can and will get stranger, the man holds up his hand like he rescues lost children for a living. “Blaine Anderson,” he introduces himself.
Kurt blinks. And blinks again.
Until Dan whispers in that not so discreet whisper, “Daddy, you’re supposed to fake the mifter’s hand.”
“Oh, right,” Kurt says, going back to his senses, shaking Blaine’s hand.
That’s a nice hand. Kurt likes that hand.
“Kurt. Hummel. And this is Dan.”
“So I gathered,” Blaine replies, his smile widening as Dan wiggles his fingers at him.
Shit, his son is better at flirting than him.
Though Kurt is not sure him grinning and waving at a stranger would be as cute.
“It seems that Dan confused me for you because of our jackets,” Blaine continues, finally--alas--letting go of Kurt’s hand. “I didn’t even realize he was following me out of the store until he pulled on it.”
“Thank you for bringing him back,” Kurt says, rubbing his cheek on top of Dan’s head. “It’s the first time I meet someone wearing the same clothes as me.”
“Not as well though,” Blaine replies softly, his voice warm and melodious.
If there is such a thing as a siren in human form, then Blaine Anderson may be one of them, and yes, Kurt is waxing poetics about a man he literally just met, so sue him.
“Oh.”
“Daddy, you need to fay fank you to Blaine for faying fomefing nice.”
Dan is frowning at Kurt as he chastises him.
“Right, fank--I mean, thank you.”
Blaine’s cheeks turn a discreet shade of pink, no doubt no match for Kurt’s red ones. “No need to thank me for simply stating the truth,” Blaine adds, fidgeting with his grocery bag. “Um. I should--I should get going. Now,” he adds, tapping his finger lightly on Dan’s nose, much to his delight, “you stay with your daddy from now on, okay?”
“Otay.”
Blaine chuckles before looking up, straight into Kurt’s eyes (and heart and soul, and oh, fuck you).
“And you, Kurt Hummel, have a nice day,” Blaine says, his voice seemingly dropping as he, the adorable fucker, winks at Kurt before leaving.
Two thoughts cross Kurt’s mind there and then.
I hate to see you go, but sweet it is to watch you go.
And
Who the fuck winks?!? And why is it so effective???
“Daddy.”
“Yes, mijo?”
“Blaine is weally p’etty.”
“Yes he is.”
“Much more p’etty than Adam.”
“Dan, we agreed not to say his name anymore.”
Dan nods wisely, looking down at his t-shirt before clapping his hands.
In that moment, he looks far too much like Santana when she has one of her master plans for Kurt’s liking.
“We should invite him fo’ a playdate!” Dan exclaims, his smile going from ear to ear.
“A what?”
“A playdate!”
Kurt focuses on not thinking about what kind of games he’d like to play with Blaine--it bears repeating that he doesn’t know a thing about the guy beyond his name, his taste in clothes and the fact that he is not a kidnapper.
Though he wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.
“Get to know him biblically,” his inner Santana cackles, and he hates that she is right.
“You know what, mijo? That’s a great idea.”
“I know.”
“Go get him.”
Kurt lets Dan down on his feet with a little pat to his back.
Dan takes off running, a dimple in his cheek as he focuses on his mission as Kurt picks up the basket and follows him.
Maybe something to write home about after all.
(Santana doesn’t even give him hell for turning their son into a “dark golden retriever”, but she never lets him forget.
If you guys want more, why don’t you give me suggestions about the flowers te boys could exchange?
Read on AO3
As the train rolls away, Kurt looks at the lone figure of Blaine walking on the platform, a smile on his face--God what a smile it is …
Dan keeps on waving at him even though he can’t see them any more, and Kurt pulls him away from the door and back to the couple of seats that just went free for them.
“Do you like your flowers, Dad?”
Kurt looks at his son and back at the springs of lillies-of-the-valley in his hand, and he can’t help the small smile that tickles the corner of his lips.
“I do, bud. Thank you for getting them for me.”
Dan wiggles happily in his seat. “When I grow up, I’ll get you v’e bigge’ft flowers.”
Kurt leans down and kisses the top of his amazing son’s head. “That’s very nice of you.”
“Will you get flowers for Blaine, too, Dad?”
The question surprises him and brings an unwanted blush on his cheeks. “Why …? How …? I mean, sure, to return the favor, but how do you want me to find him?”
Standing up, because it is their stop and it was Dan’s responsibility to remember it, Dan takes Kurt’s hand and leads him out of the train before answering.
“If his nana lives near v’e big wheel, we will find him,” Dan finally says with such aplomb that Kurt can’t deny his logic.
That sure would be nice.
---
Two weeks later
Another Saturday afternoon spent with a bunch of flowers like a moron.
Well at least now they have flowers in their home, so Kurt guesses it’s not a complete waste.
Dan is sitting next to him, looking at every man who steps into the train while batting his legs in the air.
Kurt smiles and brushes Dan’s hair away from his face.
The more he talks with his son--and Dan has a lot to say about a lot of things--the more Kurt realizes that they are more alike than Kurt could ever imagine, and he’s not talking about their facial features.
“... and then Miff’ F’traff’er f’aid that girls can’t be goalies in f’occer, and I f’aid that girls can be whatever they want to be, and she turned all red like, like the flowers you got today, they’re very pretty Dad,” Dan babbles on, playing with the red daisy the florist gave them on their way out, “and then I f’aid that I didn’t want to be goalie anyway, that F’arah could do it, she’s better than me anyway, and, and--”
“Breathe, bud,” Kurt says softly, exchanging a smile with other passengers.
Dan inhales, makes a big show of it too, and it all comes out in a rush as his eyes widen.
“Blaine!!” he shouts, pointing at the man who is already smiling at them and coming their way.
The Chinese grandma that was sitting in front of Kurt moves to let Blaine sit down before returning to her knitting.
Kurt frowns at what she’s doing--he’s all for looking forward for Spring, and he does love his flowers, but it’s … unusual--before turning back to Blaine.
“Hello,” Blaine says, smiling at them both. “I see you don’t need me for your floral supply, do you?” he asks, mainly at Dan but his eyes dart back to Kurt.
In the past days, Kurt has tried convincing himself that Blaine was not as charming as his memory made him to be.
Turns out, his memory didn’t give Blaine enough credit.
The man looks even better than Kurt remembered, and Kurt is this close to swoon into his arms.
Except that Dan is there, and no, he’s not going to use his son as a pick-up device.
Is he?
Yeah, no, he isn’t.
“My daddy got those for you, Mif’ter Blaine,” Dan says enthusiastically, pushing at Kurt’s elbow.
“Did he?” Blaine’s voice is soft, and there is a pink hue to his cheeks now.
“He did--I mean, I did,” Kurt says, holding up the flowers for Blaine. “Here--a thank you for your gentlemanly manners.”
Blaine’s eyes widen and he smiles like he can’t quite believe it.
“It’s--it’s too much, really,” Blaine replies, taking the flowers delicately and holding them up to his nose.
Would you look at those eyelashes, wow.
“You like them?” Dan insists, leaning on the edge of his seat with a wide smile that shows the gap in his teeth.
“Very much,” Blaine tells him. “Thank you Dan.”
“Daddy did it.”
“Thank you Kurt, then,” Blaine adds with a laughter in the back of his voice.
“You’re welcome,” Kurt says, wrapping his arm around Dan’s shoulders. “Leaving your grandmother’s place?”
Just making conversation, nothing unusual about that.
Blaine nods. “She practically kicked me out because i was making her late for her Krav Maga lessons,” he replies with a shrug.
“More power to her,” Kurt says, impressed.
“I’ll let her know that you think so.”
“What’s Krav gaga?” Dan chimes in. “Leff’ons about Lady Gaga?”
“I wish,” Kurt replies with a snort of laughter. “No, it’s a fighting style, bud.”
Dan’s mouth forms a “o” before he returns to holding his daisy for the Knitting Grandma as a model, babbling about Lady Gaga and soccer.
Kurt has stopped trying to make sense of Dan’s train of thought a long time ago.
“What about you two? Off for the night in town?” Blaine asks, head tilted to the side, and Kurt feels like he’s a teenager all over again.
“In a fashion,” he replies, putting one hand up to hide his mouth from Dan, and Blaine gets his drift, leaning closer. “We’re going to see his godmother give a C-O-N-C-E-R-T.”
Blaine smiles, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t say.”
Kurt sits back with a proud smile at the thought. “Oh, I do. Mercedes deserves all of it.”
Blaine nearly smashes his flowers into Kurt in his apparent shock. “Mercedes--Jones?!” he exclaims, practically standing up to get closer to Kurt.
“The one and only,” Kurt replies, blinking at how close Blaine got, and how nice he smells even though it’s the end of the day, and boy Kurt would gaze into his eyes for the rest of the evening …
“Wow,” Blaine sighs, sitting properly back in his chair. “Talk about a small world.”
“You’re going too?”
Blaine beams at him. “I planned to go back home, change and go to the … place,” he says after pausing, giving a short nod in Dan’s direction. “But I suppose I could change my plans, if--”
“Would you?”
The question is out of Kurt’s mouth before he can stop himself.
“If you want me to accompany you,” Blaine says softly, looking at Kurt with a shy smile.
“Blaine of the Subway, would you come with my son and I to you-know-what, and maybe a shake and fries before if a certain someone behaves himself?” Kurt asks, making his voice sound serious, and Dan slowly smiles at him, nodding fervently at Blaine.
Blaine returns the smile and winks at Kurt. “How could I refuse,” he says, “you got me flowers.”
Blame @sunshunes and a truly adorable kid met in the subway on my way home :)
Blaine is very careful with his flowers.
Meemaw wouldn’t like her flowers to be damaged or even slightly rumpled.
All Blaine needs is get the bunch to her in one piece, and then he’ll be able to settle down in her comfortable couch, with one of her teas flavored with cherries while she talks and talks and thanks him for coming all the way to Coney Island to spend some of his “precious” time with little ol’ her.
Hopefully, thank him with some of her cookies.
The train jostles him and he nearly faceplants into the door, so Blaine catches himself, holding tighter to the flowers’ stems and to the bar in the middle of the car.
At the next stop, a lot of passengers get off and Blaine gets to lean against the car’s wall near the door.
That’s how he spots them.
A father and his son--they must be related, they look like carbon copies, even if the young boy has darker hair--walk in, hand in hand and matching winterwear on.
The father must be around Blaine’s age, and Blaine’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest.
Ah, to have that--a family, someone to love him and someone to take care of …
Blaine shakes his head and looks away, lest he starts behaving like a creeper.
“Dad, why don’t we have flowers at home?”
The voice is clear, a bit slurring around the “f’s”, and almost everybody turns towards it with a smile.
The kid is looking up at his father and the man shrugs.
“Because nobody offers me flowers, bud.”
Blaine’s eyes widen at that.
But.
But!
How?
The man is gorgeous, frankly, and he deserves flowers.
His wife should treat him better, seriously.
“‘s that because you’re f’ingle, Dad?”
The man lets out a short laugh. “Probably, darling.”
Ah.
No wife then, and no husband either.
The kid nods wisely and looks at Blaine’s flowers with determination. “I’ll get you flowers, Dad,” he says decisively before letting go of his father’s hand to hobble to Blaine.
“Dan!” the dad says firmly, but the kid is already standing next to Blaine’s leg.
“Hello mif’ter.”
“Hello,” Blaine replies, trying hard to keep himself from laughing at the whole scene.
Only in New York, right.
“My daddy is f’ad,” the kid continues, pointing to his father who is covering his face with his hand behind him. “Can you give him your flowers?”
Blaine looks between the two, and the man shakes his head, waving his hands as if it will erase his son’s speech.
“I’m very fo--sorry,” Blaine replies, “but these are for my grandmother.”
The kid--Dan, Blaine recalls--looks so sad all of a sudden that Blaine feels like he kicked his puppy and told him that Santa would never come again.
“Oh,” he says softly, lower lip trembling.
“I’m so sorry,” the father mouths at Blaine, putting his hands on his son’s shoulders.
Blaine grins at him, and he’s glad to see a responding smile stretch the man’s lips.
He ought to smile all the time, it’s … it’s a sight to behold, Blaine can see Dan’s point of view.
“You know what,” Blaine says, returning his attention to Dan. “What about I give your daddy a couple of lilies of the valley from my bunch?”
Dan and his father’s eyes widen similarly at the proposition.
“You don’t have to do that,” the father rushes to say, a blush spreading on his cheeks.
“That’s what makes me so nice,” Blaine replies immediately, inwardly wincing at his dorkier side.
But the father doesn’t seem to judge him--quite the contrary, actually, if the smile that slowly blooms on his face is any indication.
Before he can change his mind, Blaine plucks up five, six sprigs and hands them to the man. “Because you do deserve flowers, the kid is right.”
The blush intensifies on the man’s cheeks as he takes the flowers from Blaine’s fingers, before he shakes his head and looks down at his son who beams at them.
“Dan, what do we say?”
“F’ank you, mif’ter!”
“You’re welcome, Dan,” Blaine says with a smile.
“Thank you, mister …?” the father echoes, tilting his head to the side as he smells in the lillies.
“Blaine.”
“I’m Kurt,” the father says, ruffling his son’s hair. “And as you know, this is my son, Dan.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Blaine replies, and God, he would stay in the subway and get to know the two--okay so maybe his interest is more firmly on the older man, but Dan is also interesting--but his stop is next.
Dang it.
“Have a nice afternoon, you two,” Blaine says as he walks out, and he blushes when Kurt waves at him through the door and a tiny hand waves too, at a lower level.
Once Dan has apologized and Cecilia forgives him, they quickly become inseparable.
Not exactly puppy love, but just as adorable, according to their fathers, who have a lot on their minds.
Blaine finds Kurt fascinating: his looks, his laugh, his wit, his job, his relationship with his father, his relationship with his son, the way his eyes are the perfect way to judge of his mood, the way his nose scrunches when he laughs too hard at Blaine’s awful puns, the way his whole body goes with his mouth when he gets passionate about something …
The moment Blaine had painted his office into a room fitting for his little girl, he had decided that if, when, whatever word you prefer, he would let a man in his life, it would be under careful consideration, because whoever he was would be involved in Cecilia’s life.
But with Kurt, even if they don’t really know each other, Blaine can see it.
He can picture the little family they would be with an astounding clarity. And it scares the shit out of him.
--
Kurt knows that he was doomed from the very moment Blaine smiled at him.
His smile, his stature, his fashion choices—daring in a whole different category and definitely fitting—his laugh, always slightly hiccupy at the beginning before turning into a low chuckle that warms Kurt all over, his golden hazel eyes, the way he cares about his daughter, the way his dog loves him—and isn’t that the perfect way to judge someone’s character--, his old-fashioned manners that make Kurt squeal once he’s back in his own place …
The moment the doctor had put Dan in Kurt’s arms, he had known that this little man was the love of his life, and that no other would ever be more important.
But with Blaine, beyond the crush and the physical attraction, Kurt starts wondering if you can have more than one true love in your life.
Even if the way he loves Dan and the way he loves Blaine—oh shit he loves him already—are as different as can be.
Thank God.
--
One afternoon, while their fathers are busy being stupid adults who eat their feelings—Mama’s words—Dan closes the door of his bedroom and turns to Cecilia.
“We have to do something.”
The love of his young life beams at him, her hair flowing down her back and her skirt making her look like a ballerina.
Yes, Dan sighs happily.
“I agree,” she replies, putting her hands on her waist. “They are not even making an effort!”
“What do you suggest?”
“Auntie Mercedes said that we should lock them up somewhere, but that seems terribly mean,” Cecilia says thoughtfully and Dan nods.
“Paps is claustrotobic,” he comments and Cecilia opens wide eyes. “He is scared of dark and small places.”
“Oh.”
Dan preens a little at that—it’s not every day that he gets an opportunity to show Cecilia how smart he is—before focusing on their problem.
“Maybe we can make them see that they would make each other happy?” he offers, and there is a sparkle in Cecilia’s eyes, one that announces her impending world-wide take over.
“Here’s what we’re going to do …,” she starts, sitting on the floor and Dan nearly trips himself in his haste to join her.
--
“Daddy?”
Blaine looks up from his laptop, grateful for the interruption—the plan of Ms. July’s apartment makes no sense, he even tried turning it upside down (he stood on his head too, but that’s another matter)—to smile tiredly at Cecilia who is already in her nightgown. “What is it, princess?”
“Are you,” she starts, bites her lower lip before turning a full-on puppy look on him, “are you going to die alone when I grow up and marry Dan?”
Oh boy.
There are so many things Blaine wants to discuss in that sentence, but he’ll focus on the more pressing ones. “Of course not, sweet pea,” he replies, patting his leg for her to climb on it (good Lord she’s getting too big for this). “I’m just focused on you for now, of course, but I have lots of friends—“
“But you don’t have luuuve,” Cecilia points out, patting his cheek.
Blaine wants to snap at her, but it’s not her fault that he’s desperately single.
“All in due times,” he replies, rubbing circles on her back. “Maybe love is just around the corner,” he adds with a smile, his thoughts taking him to a certain corner, two streets down, one avenue up...
“I know!” Cecilia exclaims. “You should get married with Mr. Hummel!”
Blaine’s eyes widen until they hurt and Blaine precipitately puts her back on the floor, to avoid hurting her in his flailing, no matter how internal it is. “Mr. Hummel is only a friend—my best friend, granted, but that’s all,” he replies, wondering if he’s that transparent to someone else than his daughter.
Cecilia crosses her arms over her chest—a perfect mirror to his own posture—and shakes her head. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, Daddy, and--”
--
“--that’s not the way a best friend looks at his friend.”
“Oh?” Kurt asks, not daring to truly believe his son.
Dan half-shakes, half-nods. “He looks at you the way I look at Cecilia, and I think we both know how I feel about my future wife.”
Kurt restrains himself and doesn’t roll his eyes, not really. “No need for a umpteenth version of “Can you feel the love tonight”, thank you buddy.”
Dan only nods firmly before returning his attention to deconstructing his pizza.
As he watches his son picking up first the pepperoni, then the olives, then the ham and finally taking all of the cheese of the pizza in his plate, Kurt ponders his words.
Could it be?
Can Blaine have … more than friendly feelings towards him?
Kurt can’t let himself hope too much, but if the way his heart beats a little bit faster, it’s too late for that.
--
Stopping at the “Cocoa Bean” has become something of a tradition, even now that Spring is around the corner, but today, the moment they’re all seated, Dan stands up and takes Cecilia’s free hand in his while Cecilia picks up Roxxy’s leash.
“We’ll be back!” they call in unison before skipping into the sunset—that is, in the dogs park across the street.
Blaine looks at them fondly before facing Kurt, who is still looking at them with so much love and care on his face that Blaine feels like he has just been hit with a hammer.
He wants it.
He wants Kurt to look at him like this.
He wants Kurt to love him and to—
Oh.
“Do I have chocolate on my face?” Kurt asks, already using the tip of his fingers to wipe at the corner of his lips.
“No, you’re fine,” Blaine says with a short laugh. “You—you’re perfect.”
He can feel his face heat up, but he didn’t expect Kurt to turn tomato red. “What did you—do you—did you--,” Kurt starts babbling before tilting his head to the side. “Do you mean that?”
God he feels like a teenager all over again. Blaine sends a quick prayer in case somebody’s listening and scoots his chair closer to Kurt, carefully covering his hand with his own gloved one.
“I do,” he simply says, eyes on their joined hands before he musters the courage to look up. Kurt’s lips are parted, his eyes wide and shiny.
He never looked more beautiful, and Blaine has only so much restraint.
Leaning towards Kurt, he spares one more second to check that Kurt is not going to run for the hills before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to Kurt’s.
It’s fireworks and the sweetest melody all rolled up together, the storm and the shelter, and when Kurt kisses back, the world could crumble around them that he wouldn’t noti—
The kids.
“They set us up,” he whispers against Kurt’s lips, sitting back in his chair but not letting go of Kurt’s hand.
“Hm?” Kurt seems a bit dazed, already tilting his head for a second helping of kisses.
“The kids—they played matchmakers,” Blaine repeats, an unbelievable laugh building up in his throat.
“Can’t really blame them,” Kurt replies between kisses pressed to Blaine’s jaw and, oooh, right under his ear.
“Me nei—Kurt we’re in public—me neither,” Blaine says before smirking. “May I be the one to tell them that if we get together, they’ll be siblings?”
Kurt’s shoulders shake with his laughter, his warm breath hitting Blaine’s neck and collarbones.
--
“We’re geniuses,” Cecilia declares back in the park, holding up her hand for Dan to high-five her.
