(no subject)
Author: Rachel
Title: Glowing in the Dark (17/20)
Rating: R
Word Count: 4035~
Warnings: none
Summary: Sight is a funny thing. It's taken for granted so much of the time, and people never realize how much they rely on it until it's gone. At least, Blaine knew that was true for him.
Author's Note: Title taken from the song Charlie Brown by Coldplay. And many, many thanks to Cass for being an amazing cheerleader for me.
[Previous]
Blaine could have stayed in bed all day as long as Kurt was there. The pressure and weight of his boyfriend half on top of him was comforting, reassuring. That was why he didn’t mind that he woke up first, because he could just lay there and enjoy the feeling as he hazily drifted in and out of consciousness. His arms stayed snug around him, fingertips playing his back as they traced along muscles and the slope of his spine.
Kurt didn’t stir at all, not even when Blaine nuzzled against his hair. It was so soft and had that perfectly familiar scent of his shampoo, which only succeeded in making Blaine think back to their shower the night before, and that just made him grin and bury his face into his hair a little more. He pressed a few light kisses against it, his hands skimming along and taking in Kurt’s soft, smooth skin. He really didn’t think he’d ever get enough of touching Kurt, memorizing everything he could.
His hands stilled when he heard the door to his room click open. He took in one last deep breath against Kurt’s hair before he lifted his head in the general direction of the door. “San?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, tiptoeing her way across the room to the bed. His brow furrowed as he felt the foot of the bed dip down, and she crawled her way up on the opposite side of him as Kurt.
“Santana what are you doing?” he mumbled, trying not to shift or talk too loudly, because he really didn’t want to wake up Kurt. She didn’t say anything, just laid down next to him. It wasn’t like his bed was that big, and there definitely wasn’t enough room for three people to fit comfortably, but Kurt wasn’t exactly taking up a normal amount of space because of how he was laying so it wasn’t incredibly awkward for her to be there. Just normal amounts of awkward, slightly amplified by the fact that the covers were still kicked off.
“I was going to make breakfast,” she murmured, her breath playing across his shoulder as she spoke. He slid his hand up Kurt’s neck and into his hair, keeping his head cradled against him as he tilted his head to face her. “Did you want some?”
“You couldn’t have asked me that from over there?” She didn’t answer right away, and he bit the inside of his lip. Something had to actually be wrong to merit her climbing into bed with him and Kurt, especially considering their almost complete lack of clothing. No way was it just breakfast.
“I didn’t want to wake up Kurt,” she offered quietly, and that was the final proof for him.
“What were you going to make?”
“French toast.”
“That sounds great.”
“Mkay.” Santana murmured, then sat up and scooted her way back down the bed, closing the door behind her but not latching it as she left.
“It’d better be some damn good French toast,” Kurt spoke up, his sleep laden voice muffled against the crook of Blaine’s neck.
“Hey, sorry,” Blaine said quickly, arms tightening around him as he kissed the top of his head. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“You didn’t,” Kurt mumbled, shaking his head a little before stretching out. His arms and legs extended as far as he could get them, and then he just twined them even more with Blaine’s. “I was starting to wake up before…”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.” Kurt pressed several kisses against his neck before untangling himself and rolling over and sighing. “Breakfast sounds good, though.”
“Mhm,” he replied, rubbing at his face. “Something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but… something is.”
“Something’s wrong? What do you mean?” Kurt asked, shifting back over and moving Blaine’s hands away from his face so he could cup it in his hands. His thumbs stroked over his cheekbones and Blaine felt like he was melting back against the bed, and words would be impossible if he were to wait much longer.
“Not with me,” he said, running his hands up Kurt’s arms to rest on his shoulder. “It’s Saturday.”
“Yes…”
“What time is it?”
“Uh, no idea,” Kurt said, pulling away to grab his phone and check. “Nine-thirty.”
“So it’s Saturday, it’s before noon, and Santana is awake and making breakfast,” Blaine said slowly, sitting up and stretching his arms up above his head. “Everything about that is weird.”
It was true - there were very few times Santana had gotten up earlier than noon on the weekends, and usually breakfast consisted of cereal and not much else. The promise of breakfast wasn’t enough to make him get out of bed, but the smell of coffee managed to do it just fine. Blaine tugged on a t-shirt and some sweatpants, Kurt got into the pajamas he hadn’t worn the night before, and they made their way out to the kitchen.
Kurt stopped abruptly in the doorway, and Blaine ran straight into his back. “Hey…”
“How long have you been awake?” Kurt asked, reaching back to touch Blaine’s arm gently in apology. Their hands slipped together as they went the rest of the way into the kitchen.
“A while,” Santana said noncommittally. “Breakfast’s almost done.”
“We’ll set the table,” Kurt said, and it was much more of a statement than an offer. Blaine’s brow furrowed, but he took the plates that Kurt handed him and followed him into the small dining room. Their shoulders bumped together as they stood close, setting down the plates and silverware. “Okay, I believe you,” he murmured. “Something’s wrong.”
“Why?”
“Everything’s… clean, like there weren’t a ton of people here last night.”
“Like I said, everything about this is weird,” Blaine muttered, turning and going back into the kitchen to get some coffee. By the time they were all sitting around the table, and he really hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he had food in front of him, curiosity was eating away at him. He gave it a few minutes, but he’d only just finished off half his breakfast before he couldn’t stop himself anymore.
“Santana, what’s going on?”
“Can’t a girl just want to make breakfast?”
“Not when that girl is you.” He cupped his coffee mug in his hands, warming them up as he took a sip. Part of him thought maybe she wouldn’t want to talk if Kurt was there, but if that was the case why would she have bothered with breakfast? Besides, they’d been getting along better for the most part. He wasn’t trying to push, but he really didn’t want to have to play twenty questions to get a straight answer out of her.
“I think,” she started, “that maybe you were right.”
“I usually am,” was Blaine’s sage reply, and Kurt sputtered next to him, coughing and sounding like he’d almost choked on something. “What?”
“Well I didn’t realize I’d be getting a show with my breakfast,” Santana said dryly. “I don’t really want to be showered in coffee, Hummel, so if you could just keep that to yourself…”
“Sorry, I… not that you’re wrong about stuff, that just caught me off guard,” Kurt said, taking a long drink to make up for the last one. “Carry on. What were you right about?”
“Good question. What was it?”
“Brittany.” Blaine figured he should have been ready for that answer, but he hadn’t been.
“Brittany,” he repeated, nodding slowly. “I was right about Brittany.” He took another bite of his French toast as he thought back to what he had said, and he swallowed quickly once he did. “I was right! How right, specifically?”
“Oh shut up,” Santana said, fork clattering down onto her plate.
“Do you want my help or not?”
“Fine.” She sounded terse, but for once not unyielding. “You were right. I was being difficult about the whole situation. I want to… prove to her how I feel.”
“Perfect,” he said, a grin tugging up at the corners of his mouth.
“How exactly is this being proven?” Kurt asked between bites. “Since I missed out on everything on the topic of Brittany up until this point.”
“Public declaration of affection,” Blaine said, grinning even more. “Santana’s going to sing a song for her in front of a lot of people.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have made you breakfast,” Santana grumbled. “Now you’re all sugared up and bouncy and… giddy and shit.”
“Did you make me breakfast to butter me up so I would help? Because you know I would have anyway.”
“No. Well, kind of. Mostly I just needed something to do.” Blaine tilted his head, thinking back to how Kurt had said everything was clean, and he frowned. “What?”
“San, did you… sleep at all?”
“It doesn’t matter, I just need to figure out… what I’m going to do. I couldn’t think of anything, and you’re the genius that came up with this plan so you figure it out.”
That was how Blaine knew she was actually serious about it all. When he got anxious or nervous, he bolted. When Santana got anxious or nervous, she stressed. Both of them tried to keep as busy as possible when that happened. The fact that she probably hadn’t slept at all, and had spent the night cleaning and fretting and trying to come up with a plan, just proved that she was serious. That also meant that she was most likely going to be on edge and snap at a moment’s notice, but he hoped not.
“What do you mean you couldn’t think of anything?” he asked, finishing off his breakfast while he waited for her to answer.
“I mean I couldn’t think of anything,” Santana repeated, and he could almost feel her rolling her eyes at him. “You make it sound so easy, all sing her a song, Santana.” Blaine almost choked on his last bite as she impersonated his voice. “But what song. If it’s the wrong one, then it doesn’t matter. It has to be perfect.”
“Lucky for you,” Kurt began, sounding vaguely smug, “you have me. I happen to be pretty good at finding the right song for the occasion, and I also know Brittany. Not as well as you but at least well enough to know what I’m talking about.”
That was how the three of them ended up sitting on the floor of the living room, crowded around Santana’s laptop. Blaine was mostly there for moral support and to offer his opinion when they threw out song titles, but mostly it was Kurt and Santana scrolling through her music library looking for inspiration. Shockingly, not one rude word had passed between the two in the entire time they’d been there.
It took over an hour, maybe two, Blaine really wasn’t sure. By that point, he’d laid down flat on his back and just taken to listening to the snippets of songs that played before being skipped over. There was nothing wrong with any of them, because Kurt was really good at picking out music, but none of them were perfect. He could hear the frustration in Santana’s voice with each choice they ruled out, and then it hit him.
“Wait, I’ve got it,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows. “You said she loves Disney, right?”
“Right, but we already went through all of the Disney songs I have and none of them work,” Santana said with a groan. It had been a shock, the amount of Disney music in her library, but she was right - none of them had been the right song. She didn’t have everything, though.
“Just trust me.”
***
It took two solid weeks of planning. First there had been the matter of finding a karaoke bar that even had that song, and then getting Santana to learn it and be able to make it through without stopping because she felt like she was going to panic. She’d managed to convince Kurt and Blaine that they needed to be her backup singers, something that Blaine still wasn’t sure how it happened.
Getting Brittany there that night had been easy. It didn’t take much to get win her over, and she really liked hanging out with people, so it had just been making sure that she was available that night to go downtown and enjoy some dancing and music. Honestly, getting Brittany to the right place at the right time had been the easiest part out of everything.
Sugar was the one who got her there. Apparently Brittany frequented Java Central only slightly less than Blaine did, though she always got the blended freezes with as much whipped crème as possible. At least, according to Sugar. They were friends, a point that had not surprised Blaine in the least, and he was glad to have a cohort to help. Besides, he had great plans to get the whole thing on video on his phone because he knew Santana was sappy deep down and would probably watch it over and over again if it was available.
That was, if everything went well and according to plan. Which it definitely would, if Blaine had anything to do with it.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Santana sat next to him, clutching onto his hand. They were crowded against a table in the corner, but still near the stage. Surprise being the name of the game, they were just trying to keep out of sight until it was their turn. Kurt had seen Brittany and Sugar come in, and as soon as that had happened he’d put their names in for karaoke.
“Yes you can,” Blaine said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I promise. You’re going to be great.”
“What if I’m not?”
“Then you can, um, torture me somehow, I don’t know. You won’t get the chance, though.” Up on the stage, someone started warbling their way through Tainted Love.
“We’re up next,” Kurt said as he got back to the table, his arm sliding around Blaine’s waist.
“Fuck fuck fuck…”
“Santana.” Blaine held her hand between both of his, bringing it up and kissing her knuckles lightly. “Calm down.”
“Do you think I have time to go get a drink?”
“No,” Kurt and Blaine answered in unison. She fell silent, but her grip tightened on Blaine’s hand.
It really had to be one of the most terrifying things for her, Blaine knew. This was Santana, after all, who hid behind sarcasm and harsh words to keep herself from being exposed. She had more walls built up than anyone else he’d ever met, and doing something where she was laying herself completely on the line was not what she did. It had taken weeks of living together before she’d started being herself with Blaine, and even then it was little bit by little bit. She still wasn’t completely okay with Kurt, though she had softened up a lot during the weeks prior. Blaine kind of thought that the only reason she still snapped at him sometimes was because she was nervous and needed an outlet and by that point, it was habit. There wasn’t actually any lingering bite behind her words - there hadn’t been for weeks.
“Next up we have… Satan?”
“Kurt.”
“I couldn’t resist,” Kurt said, and Blaine could tell that he was grinning.
“You’re an ass,” Santana muttered under her breath. The three of them made their way up onto the stage, and she shoved a microphone into Blaine’s hand before he could even ask where one was. She was shaking; he could feel it from the brief seconds their hands were touching. Kurt nudged his shoulder as he stood by him, and Blaine just held onto the microphone tightly.
Singing in public wasn’t exactly his thing, he was much more comfortable behind the keys of a piano, but it was all for Santana and Brittany. Besides, no one was going to be paying much attention to him or Kurt anyway.
“This is going out to a very special someone,” Santana said over the intro music, and Blaine felt a twinge of concern at how shaky her voice sounded. “So Brittany, this one’s for you.”
Open up your eyes take a look at me
Get the picture fixed in your memory
I am driven by the rhythm like the beat of a heart
And I won’t stop until I start to stand out
Any apprehension the crowd seemed to have about her singing some random Disney song seemed to dissolve about halfway through the first verse. At least, that was when there started to be some cheering. Blaine had to hand it to her, because any nervousness that had been so clear in her voice at the beginning was completely gone by the time she hit the chorus and he and Kurt chimed in behind her.
It wasn’t like Santana couldn’t sing - she really, really could. Once her voice was steady, and boy was it ever, it just sounded honest beyond anything else. Even if she hadn’t said anything before she’d started, it would have been easy to tell that she was singing for someone and not just to sing. At least, that’s what Blaine thought, though maybe he could hear it better because he’d been listening to her sing it just to sing over and over again for weeks. It was different, with Brittany right there in front of her.
Kurt’s fingers laced with his and he tugged on his hand lightly, swaying from side to side as they sang their little bit of backup. Blaine knew he was trying not to dance around like they had any number of times when they were practicing, because what else had they been expected to do when they were just standing there in the living room listening to the same song over and over?
All I need is every chance, a second thought, a second glance to prove, I’ve got whatever it takes.
There was such determination in her voice, such conviction, such truth, that there was no way anyone in the bar wasn’t rooting for her.
When the song ended, there were cheers - and then those cheers were abruptly interrupted by whistles and cat calls and actual hooting and hollering. There was the distinct sound of a microphone being dropped, and Kurt leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“Well I think we can consider that mission accomplished.”
After Blaine got his phone back from Sugar, complete with lots of fawning over how wonderful and romantic it had been and how she was so happy for everyone, he and Kurt left to head back. Santana was more than preoccupied, though they’d both gotten hugs and kisses from Brittany before leaving, and that was fine. It was perfect, in fact. That had been the plan after all - get her the girl and leave them to themselves.
“Kurt, can I ask you something?” Blaine rest his head against the cool glass of the window as Kurt drove up the interstate. It felt nice after the heat of being inside, though the short walk to the car had been brisk.
“Of course.”
“Why don’t we ever go to your place?” It wasn’t exactly like it was something that had been bothering him, but it was a curiosity.
“Oh.” Kurt sounded a little startled. “Well, I mean, you usually have Roscoe. Plus my dorm room is super small and my roommate is there. Santana has her own room, so that’s not that bad, but Finn is like, less than ten feet away at all times. Did you… want to go there? We can if you want.”
“No, it’s okay, I kind of figured those were the reasons I just… wanted to make sure, I guess.”
“Also your bed is much more comfortable and spacious than mine.”
“Since when does spacious matter? Anytime you’ve stayed over, I’ve never woken up without you all over me,” Blaine teased.
“I can’t help it, you’re very warm and cuddly,” Kurt shot back, reaching over and poking him in the arm. “We can go there, I’m just saying it’s very small and cramped and my roommate would probably ask you a lot of awkward questions.”
“It’s okay,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “I like you staying at my place. I was just curious.”
“Believe me, you aren’t missing much.”
They got back to the house and went through the familiar routine of getting ready for bed - not that it was late, but they were bound to be more comfortable in pajamas. Everything was so matter of fact, with such an air of domesticity that Blaine was constantly amazed. He didn’t feel awkward about changing in front of Kurt - though how could he, considering just how much Kurt had seen of him and how much they’d shared together? - and nothing felt strange about curling up in bed with him and just lying there for hours, talking, kissing, feeling, anything. Everything felt right, and he knew that should have been scary but it wasn’t because it was Kurt.
“Hey are you going back to Lima for Thanksgiving?”
“That’s the plan,” Kurt murmured with a half-hearted shrug. “Why?”
“I was thinking maybe, and it’s okay if you don’t want to because I know you probably just want to have it with your dad, but maybe you could come have it with me and my family?” Blaine chewed on his lip, a tad nervous - both at the question he asked and the fact that if Kurt said yes, he was going to be meeting his family. “Your dad could come to, I mean, I’m not trying to take you away from him or anything.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Kurt said with a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Of course I want to, I’d love to meet your family and spend Thanksgiving with you. I’ll have to clear it with my dad but I’m pretty sure he won’t object to getting to spend the day with other people. Just the two of us can get kind of lonely on holidays like that.”
“Okay,” Blaine whispered, nodding. “Just let me know for sure what he says so I can let my mom know how many people to expect.”
“Wait, does this mean I get to meet Dreamboat McAnderson?”
“Oh my God, stop.” Blaine groaned, pulling his arms away from Kurt and covering his face with his hands. “That’s it, I rescind my invitation. You can go to Lima and stay far away from my brother. No Anderson Thanksgiving for you.”
“Hey,” Kurt said, rolling over onto him and pinning him down, gently pulling his hands away so he could lean in to pepper kisses all along his cheeks and forehead. “There is absolutely no way he could be a dreamier boat than you.”
Blaine blushed, trying to free his hands so he could hide his face again but Kurt wasn’t letting up. He wriggled beneath him, but all that succeeded in doing was making his boyfriend shift, pressing down against him even more to keep him there. “Kurt…”
“Nope, not going to happen,” he said, dotting kisses up his jaw until he reached just beneath his ear. “Not until you believe me that you’re ridiculously handsome and that I’m not going to stop thinking that once I meet your brother.” He nipped at his earlobe. “No matter who he is or what he looks like, there’s absolutely no way he could ever hold a candle to you.”
Kurt kissed Blaine full on the mouth, a long, lingering kiss that made him feel like he was going to melt away beneath him. By the time he pulled away, Blaine was breathless.
“So what, are you going to try and convince me?”
“Oh Blaine,” Kurt murmured, kissing his neck and smirking softly against his skin. “I am supremely confident in my abilities to convince you.”
And he had every right to be, because by the time they were falling asleep -very much sweaty, sated, and tangled in a mess of sheets and limbs - Blaine had absolutely no doubts.
[ Next]
Title: Glowing in the Dark (17/20)
Rating: R
Word Count: 4035~
Warnings: none
Summary: Sight is a funny thing. It's taken for granted so much of the time, and people never realize how much they rely on it until it's gone. At least, Blaine knew that was true for him.
Author's Note: Title taken from the song Charlie Brown by Coldplay. And many, many thanks to Cass for being an amazing cheerleader for me.
[Previous]
Blaine could have stayed in bed all day as long as Kurt was there. The pressure and weight of his boyfriend half on top of him was comforting, reassuring. That was why he didn’t mind that he woke up first, because he could just lay there and enjoy the feeling as he hazily drifted in and out of consciousness. His arms stayed snug around him, fingertips playing his back as they traced along muscles and the slope of his spine.
Kurt didn’t stir at all, not even when Blaine nuzzled against his hair. It was so soft and had that perfectly familiar scent of his shampoo, which only succeeded in making Blaine think back to their shower the night before, and that just made him grin and bury his face into his hair a little more. He pressed a few light kisses against it, his hands skimming along and taking in Kurt’s soft, smooth skin. He really didn’t think he’d ever get enough of touching Kurt, memorizing everything he could.
His hands stilled when he heard the door to his room click open. He took in one last deep breath against Kurt’s hair before he lifted his head in the general direction of the door. “San?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, tiptoeing her way across the room to the bed. His brow furrowed as he felt the foot of the bed dip down, and she crawled her way up on the opposite side of him as Kurt.
“Santana what are you doing?” he mumbled, trying not to shift or talk too loudly, because he really didn’t want to wake up Kurt. She didn’t say anything, just laid down next to him. It wasn’t like his bed was that big, and there definitely wasn’t enough room for three people to fit comfortably, but Kurt wasn’t exactly taking up a normal amount of space because of how he was laying so it wasn’t incredibly awkward for her to be there. Just normal amounts of awkward, slightly amplified by the fact that the covers were still kicked off.
“I was going to make breakfast,” she murmured, her breath playing across his shoulder as she spoke. He slid his hand up Kurt’s neck and into his hair, keeping his head cradled against him as he tilted his head to face her. “Did you want some?”
“You couldn’t have asked me that from over there?” She didn’t answer right away, and he bit the inside of his lip. Something had to actually be wrong to merit her climbing into bed with him and Kurt, especially considering their almost complete lack of clothing. No way was it just breakfast.
“I didn’t want to wake up Kurt,” she offered quietly, and that was the final proof for him.
“What were you going to make?”
“French toast.”
“That sounds great.”
“Mkay.” Santana murmured, then sat up and scooted her way back down the bed, closing the door behind her but not latching it as she left.
“It’d better be some damn good French toast,” Kurt spoke up, his sleep laden voice muffled against the crook of Blaine’s neck.
“Hey, sorry,” Blaine said quickly, arms tightening around him as he kissed the top of his head. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“You didn’t,” Kurt mumbled, shaking his head a little before stretching out. His arms and legs extended as far as he could get them, and then he just twined them even more with Blaine’s. “I was starting to wake up before…”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.” Kurt pressed several kisses against his neck before untangling himself and rolling over and sighing. “Breakfast sounds good, though.”
“Mhm,” he replied, rubbing at his face. “Something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but… something is.”
“Something’s wrong? What do you mean?” Kurt asked, shifting back over and moving Blaine’s hands away from his face so he could cup it in his hands. His thumbs stroked over his cheekbones and Blaine felt like he was melting back against the bed, and words would be impossible if he were to wait much longer.
“Not with me,” he said, running his hands up Kurt’s arms to rest on his shoulder. “It’s Saturday.”
“Yes…”
“What time is it?”
“Uh, no idea,” Kurt said, pulling away to grab his phone and check. “Nine-thirty.”
“So it’s Saturday, it’s before noon, and Santana is awake and making breakfast,” Blaine said slowly, sitting up and stretching his arms up above his head. “Everything about that is weird.”
It was true - there were very few times Santana had gotten up earlier than noon on the weekends, and usually breakfast consisted of cereal and not much else. The promise of breakfast wasn’t enough to make him get out of bed, but the smell of coffee managed to do it just fine. Blaine tugged on a t-shirt and some sweatpants, Kurt got into the pajamas he hadn’t worn the night before, and they made their way out to the kitchen.
Kurt stopped abruptly in the doorway, and Blaine ran straight into his back. “Hey…”
“How long have you been awake?” Kurt asked, reaching back to touch Blaine’s arm gently in apology. Their hands slipped together as they went the rest of the way into the kitchen.
“A while,” Santana said noncommittally. “Breakfast’s almost done.”
“We’ll set the table,” Kurt said, and it was much more of a statement than an offer. Blaine’s brow furrowed, but he took the plates that Kurt handed him and followed him into the small dining room. Their shoulders bumped together as they stood close, setting down the plates and silverware. “Okay, I believe you,” he murmured. “Something’s wrong.”
“Why?”
“Everything’s… clean, like there weren’t a ton of people here last night.”
“Like I said, everything about this is weird,” Blaine muttered, turning and going back into the kitchen to get some coffee. By the time they were all sitting around the table, and he really hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he had food in front of him, curiosity was eating away at him. He gave it a few minutes, but he’d only just finished off half his breakfast before he couldn’t stop himself anymore.
“Santana, what’s going on?”
“Can’t a girl just want to make breakfast?”
“Not when that girl is you.” He cupped his coffee mug in his hands, warming them up as he took a sip. Part of him thought maybe she wouldn’t want to talk if Kurt was there, but if that was the case why would she have bothered with breakfast? Besides, they’d been getting along better for the most part. He wasn’t trying to push, but he really didn’t want to have to play twenty questions to get a straight answer out of her.
“I think,” she started, “that maybe you were right.”
“I usually am,” was Blaine’s sage reply, and Kurt sputtered next to him, coughing and sounding like he’d almost choked on something. “What?”
“Well I didn’t realize I’d be getting a show with my breakfast,” Santana said dryly. “I don’t really want to be showered in coffee, Hummel, so if you could just keep that to yourself…”
“Sorry, I… not that you’re wrong about stuff, that just caught me off guard,” Kurt said, taking a long drink to make up for the last one. “Carry on. What were you right about?”
“Good question. What was it?”
“Brittany.” Blaine figured he should have been ready for that answer, but he hadn’t been.
“Brittany,” he repeated, nodding slowly. “I was right about Brittany.” He took another bite of his French toast as he thought back to what he had said, and he swallowed quickly once he did. “I was right! How right, specifically?”
“Oh shut up,” Santana said, fork clattering down onto her plate.
“Do you want my help or not?”
“Fine.” She sounded terse, but for once not unyielding. “You were right. I was being difficult about the whole situation. I want to… prove to her how I feel.”
“Perfect,” he said, a grin tugging up at the corners of his mouth.
“How exactly is this being proven?” Kurt asked between bites. “Since I missed out on everything on the topic of Brittany up until this point.”
“Public declaration of affection,” Blaine said, grinning even more. “Santana’s going to sing a song for her in front of a lot of people.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have made you breakfast,” Santana grumbled. “Now you’re all sugared up and bouncy and… giddy and shit.”
“Did you make me breakfast to butter me up so I would help? Because you know I would have anyway.”
“No. Well, kind of. Mostly I just needed something to do.” Blaine tilted his head, thinking back to how Kurt had said everything was clean, and he frowned. “What?”
“San, did you… sleep at all?”
“It doesn’t matter, I just need to figure out… what I’m going to do. I couldn’t think of anything, and you’re the genius that came up with this plan so you figure it out.”
That was how Blaine knew she was actually serious about it all. When he got anxious or nervous, he bolted. When Santana got anxious or nervous, she stressed. Both of them tried to keep as busy as possible when that happened. The fact that she probably hadn’t slept at all, and had spent the night cleaning and fretting and trying to come up with a plan, just proved that she was serious. That also meant that she was most likely going to be on edge and snap at a moment’s notice, but he hoped not.
“What do you mean you couldn’t think of anything?” he asked, finishing off his breakfast while he waited for her to answer.
“I mean I couldn’t think of anything,” Santana repeated, and he could almost feel her rolling her eyes at him. “You make it sound so easy, all sing her a song, Santana.” Blaine almost choked on his last bite as she impersonated his voice. “But what song. If it’s the wrong one, then it doesn’t matter. It has to be perfect.”
“Lucky for you,” Kurt began, sounding vaguely smug, “you have me. I happen to be pretty good at finding the right song for the occasion, and I also know Brittany. Not as well as you but at least well enough to know what I’m talking about.”
That was how the three of them ended up sitting on the floor of the living room, crowded around Santana’s laptop. Blaine was mostly there for moral support and to offer his opinion when they threw out song titles, but mostly it was Kurt and Santana scrolling through her music library looking for inspiration. Shockingly, not one rude word had passed between the two in the entire time they’d been there.
It took over an hour, maybe two, Blaine really wasn’t sure. By that point, he’d laid down flat on his back and just taken to listening to the snippets of songs that played before being skipped over. There was nothing wrong with any of them, because Kurt was really good at picking out music, but none of them were perfect. He could hear the frustration in Santana’s voice with each choice they ruled out, and then it hit him.
“Wait, I’ve got it,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows. “You said she loves Disney, right?”
“Right, but we already went through all of the Disney songs I have and none of them work,” Santana said with a groan. It had been a shock, the amount of Disney music in her library, but she was right - none of them had been the right song. She didn’t have everything, though.
“Just trust me.”
***
It took two solid weeks of planning. First there had been the matter of finding a karaoke bar that even had that song, and then getting Santana to learn it and be able to make it through without stopping because she felt like she was going to panic. She’d managed to convince Kurt and Blaine that they needed to be her backup singers, something that Blaine still wasn’t sure how it happened.
Getting Brittany there that night had been easy. It didn’t take much to get win her over, and she really liked hanging out with people, so it had just been making sure that she was available that night to go downtown and enjoy some dancing and music. Honestly, getting Brittany to the right place at the right time had been the easiest part out of everything.
Sugar was the one who got her there. Apparently Brittany frequented Java Central only slightly less than Blaine did, though she always got the blended freezes with as much whipped crème as possible. At least, according to Sugar. They were friends, a point that had not surprised Blaine in the least, and he was glad to have a cohort to help. Besides, he had great plans to get the whole thing on video on his phone because he knew Santana was sappy deep down and would probably watch it over and over again if it was available.
That was, if everything went well and according to plan. Which it definitely would, if Blaine had anything to do with it.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Santana sat next to him, clutching onto his hand. They were crowded against a table in the corner, but still near the stage. Surprise being the name of the game, they were just trying to keep out of sight until it was their turn. Kurt had seen Brittany and Sugar come in, and as soon as that had happened he’d put their names in for karaoke.
“Yes you can,” Blaine said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I promise. You’re going to be great.”
“What if I’m not?”
“Then you can, um, torture me somehow, I don’t know. You won’t get the chance, though.” Up on the stage, someone started warbling their way through Tainted Love.
“We’re up next,” Kurt said as he got back to the table, his arm sliding around Blaine’s waist.
“Fuck fuck fuck…”
“Santana.” Blaine held her hand between both of his, bringing it up and kissing her knuckles lightly. “Calm down.”
“Do you think I have time to go get a drink?”
“No,” Kurt and Blaine answered in unison. She fell silent, but her grip tightened on Blaine’s hand.
It really had to be one of the most terrifying things for her, Blaine knew. This was Santana, after all, who hid behind sarcasm and harsh words to keep herself from being exposed. She had more walls built up than anyone else he’d ever met, and doing something where she was laying herself completely on the line was not what she did. It had taken weeks of living together before she’d started being herself with Blaine, and even then it was little bit by little bit. She still wasn’t completely okay with Kurt, though she had softened up a lot during the weeks prior. Blaine kind of thought that the only reason she still snapped at him sometimes was because she was nervous and needed an outlet and by that point, it was habit. There wasn’t actually any lingering bite behind her words - there hadn’t been for weeks.
“Next up we have… Satan?”
“Kurt.”
“I couldn’t resist,” Kurt said, and Blaine could tell that he was grinning.
“You’re an ass,” Santana muttered under her breath. The three of them made their way up onto the stage, and she shoved a microphone into Blaine’s hand before he could even ask where one was. She was shaking; he could feel it from the brief seconds their hands were touching. Kurt nudged his shoulder as he stood by him, and Blaine just held onto the microphone tightly.
Singing in public wasn’t exactly his thing, he was much more comfortable behind the keys of a piano, but it was all for Santana and Brittany. Besides, no one was going to be paying much attention to him or Kurt anyway.
“This is going out to a very special someone,” Santana said over the intro music, and Blaine felt a twinge of concern at how shaky her voice sounded. “So Brittany, this one’s for you.”
Open up your eyes take a look at me
Get the picture fixed in your memory
I am driven by the rhythm like the beat of a heart
And I won’t stop until I start to stand out
Any apprehension the crowd seemed to have about her singing some random Disney song seemed to dissolve about halfway through the first verse. At least, that was when there started to be some cheering. Blaine had to hand it to her, because any nervousness that had been so clear in her voice at the beginning was completely gone by the time she hit the chorus and he and Kurt chimed in behind her.
It wasn’t like Santana couldn’t sing - she really, really could. Once her voice was steady, and boy was it ever, it just sounded honest beyond anything else. Even if she hadn’t said anything before she’d started, it would have been easy to tell that she was singing for someone and not just to sing. At least, that’s what Blaine thought, though maybe he could hear it better because he’d been listening to her sing it just to sing over and over again for weeks. It was different, with Brittany right there in front of her.
Kurt’s fingers laced with his and he tugged on his hand lightly, swaying from side to side as they sang their little bit of backup. Blaine knew he was trying not to dance around like they had any number of times when they were practicing, because what else had they been expected to do when they were just standing there in the living room listening to the same song over and over?
All I need is every chance, a second thought, a second glance to prove, I’ve got whatever it takes.
There was such determination in her voice, such conviction, such truth, that there was no way anyone in the bar wasn’t rooting for her.
When the song ended, there were cheers - and then those cheers were abruptly interrupted by whistles and cat calls and actual hooting and hollering. There was the distinct sound of a microphone being dropped, and Kurt leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“Well I think we can consider that mission accomplished.”
After Blaine got his phone back from Sugar, complete with lots of fawning over how wonderful and romantic it had been and how she was so happy for everyone, he and Kurt left to head back. Santana was more than preoccupied, though they’d both gotten hugs and kisses from Brittany before leaving, and that was fine. It was perfect, in fact. That had been the plan after all - get her the girl and leave them to themselves.
“Kurt, can I ask you something?” Blaine rest his head against the cool glass of the window as Kurt drove up the interstate. It felt nice after the heat of being inside, though the short walk to the car had been brisk.
“Of course.”
“Why don’t we ever go to your place?” It wasn’t exactly like it was something that had been bothering him, but it was a curiosity.
“Oh.” Kurt sounded a little startled. “Well, I mean, you usually have Roscoe. Plus my dorm room is super small and my roommate is there. Santana has her own room, so that’s not that bad, but Finn is like, less than ten feet away at all times. Did you… want to go there? We can if you want.”
“No, it’s okay, I kind of figured those were the reasons I just… wanted to make sure, I guess.”
“Also your bed is much more comfortable and spacious than mine.”
“Since when does spacious matter? Anytime you’ve stayed over, I’ve never woken up without you all over me,” Blaine teased.
“I can’t help it, you’re very warm and cuddly,” Kurt shot back, reaching over and poking him in the arm. “We can go there, I’m just saying it’s very small and cramped and my roommate would probably ask you a lot of awkward questions.”
“It’s okay,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “I like you staying at my place. I was just curious.”
“Believe me, you aren’t missing much.”
They got back to the house and went through the familiar routine of getting ready for bed - not that it was late, but they were bound to be more comfortable in pajamas. Everything was so matter of fact, with such an air of domesticity that Blaine was constantly amazed. He didn’t feel awkward about changing in front of Kurt - though how could he, considering just how much Kurt had seen of him and how much they’d shared together? - and nothing felt strange about curling up in bed with him and just lying there for hours, talking, kissing, feeling, anything. Everything felt right, and he knew that should have been scary but it wasn’t because it was Kurt.
“Hey are you going back to Lima for Thanksgiving?”
“That’s the plan,” Kurt murmured with a half-hearted shrug. “Why?”
“I was thinking maybe, and it’s okay if you don’t want to because I know you probably just want to have it with your dad, but maybe you could come have it with me and my family?” Blaine chewed on his lip, a tad nervous - both at the question he asked and the fact that if Kurt said yes, he was going to be meeting his family. “Your dad could come to, I mean, I’m not trying to take you away from him or anything.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Kurt said with a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Of course I want to, I’d love to meet your family and spend Thanksgiving with you. I’ll have to clear it with my dad but I’m pretty sure he won’t object to getting to spend the day with other people. Just the two of us can get kind of lonely on holidays like that.”
“Okay,” Blaine whispered, nodding. “Just let me know for sure what he says so I can let my mom know how many people to expect.”
“Wait, does this mean I get to meet Dreamboat McAnderson?”
“Oh my God, stop.” Blaine groaned, pulling his arms away from Kurt and covering his face with his hands. “That’s it, I rescind my invitation. You can go to Lima and stay far away from my brother. No Anderson Thanksgiving for you.”
“Hey,” Kurt said, rolling over onto him and pinning him down, gently pulling his hands away so he could lean in to pepper kisses all along his cheeks and forehead. “There is absolutely no way he could be a dreamier boat than you.”
Blaine blushed, trying to free his hands so he could hide his face again but Kurt wasn’t letting up. He wriggled beneath him, but all that succeeded in doing was making his boyfriend shift, pressing down against him even more to keep him there. “Kurt…”
“Nope, not going to happen,” he said, dotting kisses up his jaw until he reached just beneath his ear. “Not until you believe me that you’re ridiculously handsome and that I’m not going to stop thinking that once I meet your brother.” He nipped at his earlobe. “No matter who he is or what he looks like, there’s absolutely no way he could ever hold a candle to you.”
Kurt kissed Blaine full on the mouth, a long, lingering kiss that made him feel like he was going to melt away beneath him. By the time he pulled away, Blaine was breathless.
“So what, are you going to try and convince me?”
“Oh Blaine,” Kurt murmured, kissing his neck and smirking softly against his skin. “I am supremely confident in my abilities to convince you.”
And he had every right to be, because by the time they were falling asleep -very much sweaty, sated, and tangled in a mess of sheets and limbs - Blaine had absolutely no doubts.
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