#i dribble

[wyvernkid]

its hard to eat with a numb mouth

[aesthxticmuke]

I never realised how fast Kiss you by One Direction was, like I struggled singing along without slobbering everywhere

[kirwanraemus]

The next prompt from my 100 drabbles challenge! Although I'm afraid to admit that only really the first part of this actually covers it.

Set between Heart and Dance With Somebody, just imagine Blaine's birthday is around the same time as Darren's.

Here is an example of the toy Blaine is playing with at the beginning.

2. Complicated

“Just pass it to me, Blaine, it’s really not that –“

Kurt sighed. “Fine.” He dropped back against the foot of his bed, tipping his head back and abstractly staring at the ceiling. Blaine was silent on the floor beside him as he fiddled with the spherical maze, the remnants of the bright green wrapping Brittany had painstakingly covered it in strewn around him. His mind flashed back to the afternoon a couple of weeks ago in the toy store at the mall, trying to convince her to leave the stuffed toys section so that she could find Blaine a present that would actually be interesting. Of course, as soon as she had seen the clear plastic ball filled with bridges and runs and spirals for the silver ball to roll along, she had grabbed it, deciding that Blaine definitely needed a “magic puzzle ball” for his birthday. Figuring that this was at least better than a fuzzy badger, Kurt had conceded and dragged her up to the counter.

“Aha!” Blaine cried suddenly, holding the ball steadily as he grinned. Kurt sat forward again, glancing down at the puzzle.

“Did you get to the end yet?” he asked.

“Nearly, I just got over that really hard bit, I’m almost there –“ He tipped the ball sideways, gaze intently fixed on the complicated array of colourful runways, tipping it a little more and then –

“Crap,” muttered Blaine, as the ball hit the bottom of the ball. He frowned, giving it firm shake, only causing it to rattle loudly. “I give up,” he said, pressing the ball into Kurt’s hands. “That thing is impossible.”

Kurt smiled. “It just requires a little patience,” he said simply, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the tip of Blaine’s nose. “Which you evidently need to work on.” Blaine huffed, still frowning. “Now do you want your present from me?”

Blaine’s face lit up visibly. “Yes,” he said.

Kurt grinned, pushing him back and standing up. “Obviously I had to make up for your lovely little gift at Christmas,” he said as he walked over to his closet. “Seriously, Blaine, finding a present to equal a ring made from candy wrappers should not be hard as it was.”

“But you didn’t have to make up for it, Kurt, that was a gift –“ Blaine protested.

“Hush. It’s your birthday, you have to let me spoil you.”

“Fine.”

Kurt rifled through the various shirts and jackets hanging in his closet until he found the little box he was looking for, hidden behind his tweed riding jacket and a ruffled white dress shirt. He backed out, turning around slowly and hugging the box to his stomach.

“I – um. I hope you like it, I…”

“Kurt, I’m sure anything you give me will be perfect.”

“Okay.” He stepped forward, gaze held steady by Blaine’s anticipatory expression, and held out the box. Blaine took it gently, smiling warmly at Kurt as he dropped down onto the bed by his head. Blaine pulled the blue ribbon off, carefully laying it out on the floor, and gently pushed up the lid of the box.

“Kurt,” he gasped quietly, carefully trailing his fingers over the silver pocket watch nestled in the velvet-lined interior. “Kurt, it’s – beautiful.”

“You think?” asked Kurt quietly, dropping to his knees beside him. “I had no idea what to get you, nothing seemed right, but then I was at a thrift store buying new scarves last week and I saw it and I just knew that I had to get it for you. It – um – it reminded me of the first time we met. You were hurrying down the stairs looking at your watch, and I know you lost it over the summer, so I thought I could replace it with this – and, I mean, I don’t know if that one was a family heirloom or something, this one is just –“

He was silenced by a firm kiss, Blaine’s soft lips pressing forcefully against his as he threaded his fingers into the short hair at the back of his neck. Kurt let out a short “mmph” as he responded, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and kissing him soundly before pulling back and pushing them apart, pressing another brief kiss to Blaine’s pout.

“That’s not all,” he said, a hint breathlessly. “I – it’s not really a birthday present, but I know there are the Easter holidays coming up, so I – um…” He trailed off, standing and hurrying to his nightstand, pulling open the middle draw and taking out a thin white envelope. He crawled back over his bed to drop down by Blaine’s head, presenting the envelope to him with a grin.

Brows furrowed, Blaine took it from him, running a finger under the folder and slitting it open. He gingerly pulled out the two slips of paper inside, reading over them, intrigued, eyes widening in excitement when he saw –

“Florida!” He read over the tickets again, a grin spreading from ear to ear. “Kurt, you got us tickets to Florida?!”

“I was thinking maybe we could go to Disneyland.”

Blaine shrieked in excitement, surging upwards and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s neck as he pushed him back onto the bed, peppering his face with kisses. Kurt laughed, shoving Blaine playfully, but Blaine gripped his wrists and leaned down to kiss him properly.

“Thank you,” he whispered against his lips.

“You’re welcome,” Kurt said happily. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “I love you.”

“I love you too Kurt, so much.” He kissed him again, hands sliding down’s Kurt’s chest with soft strokes, coming to settle at the waistline of his pants, where he playfully toyed with the button of Kurt’s skinny jeans.

“Now let me thank you properly,” he whispered, pushing Kurt back down onto the bed.

[kirwanraemus]

I'm starting a 100 Drabbles Challenge! So this is going to be the first fic in a (hopeful) hundred.

1. Introduction

Kurt had always hated Wednesdays.

If he didn’t count the fact that Wednesdays were the day that Rachel always got up at an obscenely early hour to go for a run, clattering and banging and waking him up on her way out, or the day that his favourite coffee shop, the one that did the best mochas in all of Bushwick, didn’t open until 10:00 am, or the day that the neighbours across the hall always seemed to schedule their very loud and very pointless arguments, shouting and cursing and smashing things they would definitely regret smashing later, the very idea of the new semester at NYADA starting on a Wednesday was enough to make him want to curl up in bed and sleep for several weeks.

He had planned out his outfit several days before, of course – short brown boots with dark red pants and a cream shirt, topped with a mahogany waistcoat that showed the faintest hint of brocade and a maroon ascot. His hair was, as per usual, styled to perfection, and if he spent just a little bit longer on his daily moisturising routine – well, it couldn’t hurt to miss a few minutes of sleep to look his best. And who knew, maybe he would even meet someone today who it was worth looking his best for.

Kurt scoffed. Like that was going to happen.

He wandered into the kitchen corner of the loft just as Rachel returned from her run, sweating but grinning good morning at him as she pulled her earphones out on the way to the shower. He waved back nonchalantly and finished pouring milk on his cereal.

By the time Rachel was out of the shower and busying around in a fluffy pink bathrobe, he had finished his breakfast and washed his dishes and restyled his hair. Apparently only noticing him once he was picking up his leather satchel and casting a quick last look around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, Rachel hurried over, tightening her robe and hugging him.

“You’ll do great, Kurt,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “Just remember to never use the bathrooms on the third floor, don’t try to hang out with the Senior cliques, and keep away from Cassandra July. You’ll be fine.”

Kurt nodded, smiling weakly. “I’m sure I will be. I – I’ll see you for lunch?” Rachel’s first class wasn’t until the early afternoon.

“Of course,” Rachel confirmed, grinning brightly. “Meet me by the main entrance outside the Schwartz building, okay?”

“Okay.” He ducked his head as she pressed a light kiss on his cheek then pushed him towards the door.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” was the last thing he heard before he let it roll shut behind him.

*

The subway was packed with the usual morning crush – different commuters from those he was used to, now that he wasn’t heading towards the shiny glass and chrome of Vogue.com. He sighed and leaned further back against the door, clutching his bag in front of him. He had agreed with Isabelle to continue his internship on a much lighter schedule, now only working Sundays and Monday and Thursday afternoons. With his new class schedule and assignments and still helping Isabelle with calls and videos and meetings, he knew he was going to be busier than he ever had been before.

The carriage jolted to a stop and he was jostled off with everyone else, trying to push his way through the ticket barriers and up the stairs. Finally out of the throb of commuters and into the open air, he took a deep breath, and gazed up at the tall and elegant building that was NYADA.

At least, he gazed up at it until he was suddenly hit by a heavy tangle of arms, legs and swinging backpack.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” the person he had just been hit by cried, scrambling up quickly onto his feet. “I didn’t see you and I’m really clumsy, I’m sorry!”

Kurt blinked, once, twice, then realised he was on the ground. He must have hit his head on something because there was a sharp pain at the back of his skull and he was feeling – a little dazed. He blinked again and his eyes focused on the concerned face of the boy who had run into him. He felt his stomach do a weird kind of flip through the haze.

The boy was still apologising, and Kurt noticed he was holding out his arm to help him up. He took it gingerly and was surprised by the swift and seemingly effortless way he was pulled off the ground.

“Are you okay?”

Kurt rubbed the back of his head, bringing his fingers around and faintly registering in the back of his mind that they were devoid of blood. “I – um –“

“Oh my gosh, you are hurt, I’m so sorry, come on, I’ll take you to the nurse – here, let me – let me take your bag –“

Kurt slumped, confused, as an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up and directing him towards the building he had just been admiring.

“I think you must be concussed,” the boy said. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Shut up,” Kurt mumbled kindly. “I’m fine.”

“No – but you – okay.” He paused as they ascended the stairs at the foot of the building. “It’s not far to the nurse’s, just down here…”

He let himself be led inside and down a corridor that led off the big atrium. They stopped outside a door and the boy knocked, glancing at Kurt with a worried look on his face as they waited. It was soon opened by a short woman in a white nurse’s coat, wiping her hands on a blue paper towel.

A couple of minutes later, Kurt was sitting on a cold plastic chair with an ice pack pressed to the back of his head, watching the nurse typing quickly at her laptop on the side counter. “What’s your name?” she asked, glancing up at him briefly.

“Kurt Hummel,” he replied.

“Okay. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I – er – I can’t –“

“I ran into him,” the boy piped up from the far side of the room. “I was hurrying to get out of the subway and I didn’t see him and I tripped and we both fell and I think he hit his head on a kerb, I’m not entirely sure, I’m so sorry –“

“That’s fine, thank you. What’s your name?”

“Blaine Anderson.”

“Okay, Blaine. I want to keep Kurt in here for a few more minutes with the ice pack, so if you wouldn’t mind notifying his professor that he won’t be in his next class, that would be great, thanks. I can write you a note, if you need it.”

“No, that’s fine, I don’t have anything right now. I – er – what do you have now, Kurt?”

Kurt shifted the ice pack, trying to remember his schedule. The confusion clouding his mind seemed to settle a bit.

“I have, um, English, I think. Prof. Harton’s class.”

“Okay, I’ll come back when I’ve told him. Sorry again. Um… bye.”

*

Half an hour later, Kurt was sitting on a bench in the courtyard in the centre of the buildings complex, sipping from a bottle of water as he watched Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you want to go home?” Blaine asked when he stopped drinking.

“What? No, really, I’m fine, just a little shaken. A least most of the confusion’s gone.”

Blaine nodded, fiddling with the cuff of his dark green sweater. “What class do you have next?”

Kurt picked up his bag and rifled through the few papers in there until he found his schedule. “Um… Song Interpretation?”

“Ah,” said Blaine knowingly. “With the fearsome Carmen Tibideaux.” He shifted. “I’m in that class too. Can I… can I walk you there?”

Kurt inwardly hid a smile. “Of course,” he said, standing up.

Blaine grinned and grabbed his bag. “It’s – er, right this way.” He smiled at Kurt, a little – nervously? – before heading off down one of the pathways towards a building. Kurt hung back a few seconds, sorting out his bag strap, barely noticing the way his eyes slid down Blaine’s back to rest on the perfect swell of his ass. When he realised Kurt wasn’t with him, Blaine twisted round.

“Um, Kurt? You coming?”

Kurt blushed deeply and hurried over to him.

Well. His view on Wednesdays was definitely starting to look up.

[kirwanraemus]

some Christmas fluff for you all

‘Kurt – I –ah – I’ve nearly got it –'

Kurt watched with amusement as Blaine stretched up to reach the highest branches of the Christmas tree. The little silver angel he was trying to sit on the top slipped from his outstretched fingers and landed on the needle-strewn ground below the tree with a soft thump. Blaine’s shoulders sagged as he sighed in exasperation.

‘Sure you don’t need some help, honey?’ said Kurt, looking up at him form the stack of records he was browsing through. ‘A little boost, perhaps?’

Blaine shot Kurt a death glare as he picked up the angel and stretched up to the top of the tree again, standing on the tips of his toes as he reached up, fingers straining. Once again, just as the angel was almost in place, it slipped and fell down through the branches of the tree.

Kurt sighed, putting aside the stack of records and moving to pick it up. Blaine watched him with a little pout as he easily reached up and sat the little angel on top, smiling serenely down over the room.

‘It’s not fair,’ he huffed. ‘Just because you have a couple of inches on me means that you’re always the one that gets to decorate the top of the tree. Next year I call dibs.’

The dejected look on Blaine’s face grew into a gentle smile. ‘Promise?’ he asked quietly.

‘Promise,’ answered Kurt, pecking his cheek briefly on his way over to the record player. He put it on, carefully positioning the stylus over the outer track. He turned the volume up, the merry opening notes of White Christmas filling the room.

He smiled at Blaine, holding out his hand. ‘Dance with me?’ he asked.

Blaine grinned, pulling them together and putting Kurt’s hands fall around his shoulders as they rocked gently around the living room. He could hear Blaine humming along, then quietly singing the words, murmuring them in his ear as he drew them closer together.

Kurt sighed happily, resting his chin on Blaine’s shoulder as they continued dancing.  His mind drifted, back to another time, another place, the same song. He gripped Blaine tighter as he remembered the feeling of being with him again after the months of worry and anger and loneliness, the feeling of realising it was Blaine and only Blaine he wanted to spend the rest of his life with when Adam had tried to push things too far. He turned his face into Blaine’s shoulder, breathing in his scent, relishing the fact that even if they had their ups and downs they would always fall back together.

He felt Blaine smile against his own shoulder as the song ended and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his neck.

‘Thank you,’ he said, arms still wrapped tightly around his boyfriend.

‘For what?’ He could feel Blaine’s voice reverberate through his throat and chest, warming his insides as it swept through him.

‘For loving me. For letting me love you. For us.’

Blaine pulled back a bit, the soft glow of the Christmas lights that were strung up around the room giving his eyes a beautiful green tint. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Kurt’s, a soft sigh of contentment passing between them. Gently, Blaine pulled himself out of Kurt’s arms, pecking him on the lips again as he gently slid his fingers between Kurt’s.

‘Um… It’s Christmas,’ he said. Kurt nodded. ‘And I – I love you. A lot. More than a lot. You – you’ve helped me become who I am today. Through blue skies and through storms. Kurt, without you, I don’t know where or what I would be today. You love me for me and you took me back after I had made the stupidest decision of my life and you changed me and moved me in ways I didn’t even know it was possible. You still do.’

He let go of Kurt’s hands and dropped to one knee. Kurt could feel tears welling in his eyes.

Blaine looked up at him, the most sincere expression of love and devotion that was possibly human spread across his features. ‘We’ve made it through thick and thin and all the while we’ve grown to love each other more. I think I knew it would come to this the moment I watched you sing Blackbird – no, from the moment our eyes met on that staircase. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you to the day I die.’ He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a little velvet box, cracking it open to reveal a beautiful silver ring. ‘So,’ he said, voice beginning to break, ‘Kurt Hummel, will you do me the utmost honour of becoming my husband?’

Kurt gasped, hand over his mouth as the tears dropped from his eyes and he nodded, barely able to do much else. Blaine grinned, and Kurt could see the wetness in his eyes too, and he pulled him up into his arms.

‘Yes,’ gasped Kurt. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.’

And he pulled his fiancé into a kiss that was filled with all the love his heart had to give.

[kirwanraemus]

Blaine is huge Whovian, and buys a fandom shirt online.

‘Come on, Blaine, we’re going to be late,’ Kurt whined, tugging at Blaine’s arm.

‘Yeah – hang on, I just need to order this…’ Blaine hovered his mouse over the pay and order button, hitting enter when a little ‘Are you sure?’ box popped up. ‘There,’ he said, shutting his computer lid. ‘All done.’

‘I don’t understand how you can be so obsessed,’ wondered Kurt, wrapping Blaine’s scarf around his neck and pulling him towards the apartment door. ‘You spend all your free time watching and blogging about that show!’

‘But it’s Doctor Who, Kurt! It’s not just a show, it’s a way of life!’

Kurt laughed at Blaine’s folly, pulling in to his arms as they stepped into the elevator. ‘And where does that leave me, huh? Out in the cold, on the street, waiting for a man in a blue box to turn up and rescue me from my crazy boyfriend?’

***

About a week later, Kurt was interrupted in his morning moisturizing by a loud shriek from Blaine. He sighed, putting down his skin cream and padding wearily into the living room where Blaine was dancing around eagerly.

‘What have you done now?’ he asked, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he watched Blaine fondly.

Blaine bounced over to him, waving the package that had just arrived in his face. ‘It came! My t-shirt! It’s here!’ He leaned forward and pecked Kurt briefly before leaping away to the kitchen to fetch some scissors.

Kurt stayed put, waiting as he watched Blaine dance around the breakfast bar, wondering how he had ever managed to pick such an adorably crazy boyfriend. Blaine grinned at him as he pulled out the t-shirt and shrieked again when he held it up for Kurt to see. A large blue box – the TARDIS, Kurt reminded himself – was surrounded by several creepy-looking angels. The angels have the phonebox was printed in large blue letters at the top.

‘You,’ said Kurt, wandering over to him and tugging the t-shirt out of his hands, ‘are a complete dork.’ He looked down at the shirt again. ‘Are you going to try it on?’

Blaine’s eyes lit up and he quickly stripped his pyjama shirt off, Kurt taking the moment to appreciate his chest and well-defined abs. Unfortunately, the sight was soon taken from him as Blaine slipped the shirt on over his head and grinned again. He looked like a five-year old.

Kurt leaned in and kissed him again, more languidly, then pulled away. ‘Let me go finish moisturize, ok? Then we can go grab croissants for breakfast at the bakery.’

Blaine nodded happily. ‘And then come back and watch an episode of Who?’

Kurt sighed. Blaine was just too adorable when he like this, all over-excited and childish.

‘Yes,’ he conceded. ‘Then we can watch Doctor Who. But I get to pick which episode, ok?’

‘Fine. No, wait, Kurt! I’m wearing my Blink shirt! We have to watch that episode! You can’t watch a different one!’

‘Well, maybe you’ll just have to watch it shirtless, then, hm?’ Kurt winked at him and strode back to their bedroom, purposefully swaying his hips.

He heard Blaine’s eager footsteps follow him a few seconds after.

[kirwanraemus]

Blaine comes round to Kurt’s for dinner and helps him clean up the leaves in the backyard beforehand.

‘So, what do the Warblers think of you coming to McKinley?’

Blaine shrugged and accepted the rake Kurt was holding out to him. ‘They’re disappointed,’ he said. ‘But they know I have a very good reason for doing so.’ He briefly kissed Kurt on the cheek as he wandered over to the garden fence and started raking up the leaves.

‘I thought you weren’t doing this for me,’ Kurt said, following him and starting on a large patch under a tree.

‘I’m not, I’m doing it because I wouldn’t be able to survive much longer at Dalton without you there.’

Kurt smiled and dragged his rake across the ground, thinking. ‘Who’s going to be their new lead soloist?’ he asked after a few moments.

‘Oh, I don’t know. Nick said something about auditioning a couple of new kids, so it could be either one of them. Or Nick himself, he’s got a pretty good voice.’

‘Blaine!’ he cried, swatting them away. Blaine smirked at him, already prepared with another handful of leaves. Kurt shrieked as he dropped them over his head, stumbling backward to pick up his own handful. He flung them at Blaine, who ducked and chucked more in his general direction.

They chased each other around the garden, leaves flying everywhere, the pile they had so carefully made scattered across the lawn. Eventually, Blaine caught up with Kurt, grabbing him from behind and circling his arms around his waist tightly as he tickled him.

‘Blaine – no – haha – stop it – that’s mean!’ laughed Kurt, struggling in Blaine’s grasp. He kicked his legs out, determined to escape but Blaine tightened his grip, dragging him over to the smallish pile that still remained. Kurt managed to turn around in Blaine’s grasp and struggled some more, kicking Blaine’s legs out from underneath him.

The fell in a heap onto the pile, Blaine sprawled on top of Kurt, both laughing at each other’s antics. Soon, their laughter died down, and Blaine looked up at Kurt with his big hazel eyes.

‘Hi,’ he said softly.

‘Hi,’ answered Kurt.

Blaine moved, bringing his hands up to Kurt’s shoulders and his face nearer.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t have done that,’ he whispered. ‘Ruined the pile, I mean.’

‘I think it was worth it,’ Kurt replied just as softly, trailing his fingers down Blaine’s cheek. His boyfriend closed his eyes and nuzzled his hand, kissing the inside of his wrist. Kurt’s stomach swooped, and he tugged on Blaine’s scarf with his free hand, bringing their lips together.

Blaine kissed him softly and slowly, their lips barely moving until Blaine brought his hand up to Kurt’s face and deepened the kiss. Kurt let out a small moan as Blaine’s tongue traced the seam of his lips, and they willingly fell open to accommodate him. Their tongues danced together in perfect harmony, lips gently sliding against each other’s as the kiss became more heated.

Suddenly there was a loud cry from the balcony and Blaine rolled off Kurt, face the colour of his dark red scarf.

‘Boys!’ called Burt. ‘You nearly done?’

He came round the side of the house, eyes widening as he took in the scattered leaves, abandoned rakes, and two boys lying next to each other on the ground, messy-haired, red-lipped and both very scarlet-faced.

‘Oh, erm…’ he started, looking anywhere but at Kurt and Blaine. ‘It’s just… Carole says dinner’s nearly done, so I was just checking if you were finished…’ He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and turned back to the house. ‘I’m gonna go… lay the table…’ he muttered, hurrying off.

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. Yes, ruining the pile had definitely been worth it.

[kirwanraemus]

platonic!klaine go to see Wicked in Columbus (set a couple of days before Blackbird)

Kurt heard the doorbell ring and anxiously checked his already-perfect hair in the mirror.

'Kid!' his dad shouted from downstairs. 'Blaine's here, hurry up!'

'Coming!' Kurt called back, smoothing down the front of his grey waistcoat. He grimaced to make sure he had nothing in his teeth before grabbing his coat and bag and hurrying down the stairs.

Blaine was standing in the hall with his father, looking absolutely perfect in his dark purple cardigan and cream-coloured jeans.

'I haven't been to a Buckeyes game since - Oh, hey Kurt!' He grinned, bouncing up and down slightly. 'Shall we go?'

'Yeah,' said Kurt, tearing his eyes away from how well those jeans fitted him and hugging his dad. 'I'll be back around midnight,' he promised.

'Ok,' Burt answered. 'Stay safe.' He patted him on the back.

They listened to the original cast recording all the way there, even when all the songs had been repeated at least twice. Finally, they reached the theatre in Columbus and joined the crowd of people waiting outside for the doors to open.

Kurt shivered as a breeze swept over him. 'You okay?' asked Blaine.

'Yeah, just cold.'

Blaine, who was sitting on the steps, patted the space beside him. 'Come sit with me,' he offered. 'Share some body heat.'

Kurt blushed (thankful it was too dark for it to show) and dropped down a few inches away from Blaine. 'Hey!' he exclaimed, moving up so that their hips and thighs were pressed together. 'I said "next to me", not "a seat away from me"!' He put an arm around Kurt's shoulders, pulling their sides together too. 'There, nice and warm.'

Kurt's face was probably beet red by then, but luckily he was saved from having to say anything in what would be a very strangled voice by the doors opening. Blaine squeezed him briefly before standing up and fishing around in his coat pocket for their tickets. They reached the ticket booth just as he found them. The ticket lady smiled toothily at them.

Blaine produced the tickets and she clipped them. 'Snacks and bathrooms to the left,' she told them, 'the Hall to the right.'

Suddenly, Kurt felt Blaine grab his hand and pull him towards the snacks and bar.

'Hi,' he said brightly to the bartender. 'Can I have a large popcorn, please?'

The bartender nodded, cashing it in before turning to Kurt. 'And your boyfriend?' he asked.

Kurt felt his face flush deep red as Blaine let go of his hand, both of them stammering awkwardly.

'We're not -'

'I'm not his -'

'We're just -'

'Ok, sorry!' cried the bartender, the tips of his ears tinged pink with embarrassment. 'Can I get you anything?' he repeated to Kurt.

Still lsightly shaken, Kurt shook his head.

'Sorry about that,' apologised Blaine once he had his popcorn and they were headed towards the Hall.

'Oh, I really didn't mind at all,' Kurt muttered.

They found their seats and set the popcorn on the central arm.

The show began.

Kurt couldn't remember having enjoyed going to see a musical more - and most of it wasn't even because of the musical.

Their fingers or hands brushed together several times when they both reached for popcorn, and they would both blush and withdraw their hands as if the popcorn was on fire.

When they were both singing along to "As Long As You're Mine", Kurt couldn't help keeping on looking over at Blaine, and caught him looking back on several occasions.

A couple of times, Blaine put his arm along the back of Kurt's chair.

And when it was over, they held hands as they walked back to Kurt's Navigator.

They didn't listen to music on the way back, content to sit in a comfortable silence. The sway of the car and the gentle rumble of the traffic made Kurt feel drowsy and he was glad that Blaine was driving.

He woke up when he felt the car stop, and blinked slowly as he came to. Blaine was watching him silently, his eyes looking more golden than usual in the porch light and his lips looking all the more kissable. It took everything Kurt had not to do so, and finally breaking Blaine's gaze, he got out of the car.

Blaine came round to his door, arms folded over his chest in the freezing air.

'That was really fun,' said Kurt. 'Thank you.'

Blaine smiled and nodded. He hesitated for a few moments before reaching forward and hugging Kurt for slightly longer than the title 'platonic friends' would allow. As he pulled away, he whispered 'goodnight' in Kurt's ear, making his stomach squirm.

'You're driving next date,' he mumbled sleepily, clearly not thinking before speaking.

Kurt watched as he drove off back to his parents' for the weekend, dumbstruck.

Had that been a date?