To Borrow A Heart (7/8)
A/N: Forecast for this chapter is partially cloudy, with some angst. This is expected to clear up in the next chapter. Also, on a serious note; I mentioned before that this does NOT follow any sort of borrower canon. This is only going to get more obvious. Also, gosh! I can't believe that I'm posting the final chapter tomorrow.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6
Eventually, Blaine stopped freaking out everytime Burt came into a room, and he stopped trying to hide.
Mainly because Burt was kind of really nice, even nicer than he’d initially thought. He’d panicked a bit once when Burt picked him up, hand much bigger than Kurt’s, but had relaxed when Burt just helped him up on the couch.
It wasn’t like he really needed the help, but it was sort of nice to be helped anyway.
Burt was kind of awesome.
And a plus to Burt knowing was that Blaine now got included in... well, everything; he ate with them, watched TV with them and sometimes when Burt got home before Kurt, he’d even just sit around and talk just to him.
The one Sunday Burt had gone to the garage despite it being closed; Kurt had made them sandwiches. Blaine hadn’t expected to go out, but Kurt offered him his pocket and Blaine sat, enraptured with his surroundings, as they walked (well, Kurt walked) to the garage.
“Kurt, are you sure it’s safe?” He felt excited, but somewhat apprehensive as well. What if someone saw him?
“Don’t worry. It’s just dad there, he got a car in yesterday that he’s ridiculously excited about. The guys are all busy with their families today.”
The garage smelled... weird, but not particularly unpleasant.
“Hey kiddo!” Blaine peeked around, and saw Burt leaned over a car with its front up.
“Hi dad. Blaine and I brought you lunch.”
“Thanks. Blaine, don’t fall into the motor.”
Lunch went, as lunch goes, and while Blaine was curious about the garage the walk home was much more interesting. He’d only ever gone out into the backyard before, with its large fence going round it, limiting his views.
God, what he’d give to be big so he could walk around the world like Kurt did.
He’d told Kurt this, and had gotten a strange, yet fond look in return.
Some days, it was kind of nice to be little. There was the obvious advantage of being held by Kurt’s hands, and the morning when Blaine had woken before Kurt, he’d sat on Kurt’s chest, staring at him with a mischievous smile, patiently until Kurt woke up.
Kurt’s eyes blinked open, and upon seeing Blaine, he groaned. “That is so creepy, Blaine.”
“You love me anyway.”
The air changed at that, Kurt suddenly blushing bright, before sporting a closed off expression. “Yeah.” He mumbled, and Blaine felt an odd swoop in his stomach.
Then Kurt turned over and Blaine ended up tangled in the sheets.
Even after he got to feel more relaxed around the house, Blaine couldn’t help but stay close to Kurt. Whenever they joined Burt at the TV Blaine would automatically sit in Kurt’s lap, sometimes even curled up in his shirt pocket.
He’d heard Burt snort something about a puppy once when he did it, but he didn’t really understand the joke.
One of those evenings, he was comfortably resting against Kurt’s stomach, enjoying the feel of Kurt’s hand draped over him like a blanket. He’d been dozing on and off for the past hour, catching a few sentences here and there from either Burt or Kurt.
“...Asleep.”
Kurt’s voice, Blaine thought groggily. He had a nice voice. He couldn’t be bothered to move, insanely comfortable where he was. Instead he kept his eyes closed, about to drift off to sleep again as Burt’s voice cut through the haze of sleep.
“...Love him, don’t you?”
Blaine kept still, confused. He didn’t hear Burt’s voice like that often, usually only when he spoke about Kurt’s mother. Soft, with something he wasn’t sure how to place.
“Of course I do, dad. He’s my best friend.” Kurt’s voice, and Blaine felt the vibrations of it more than the voice itself, soft and quiet.
“Not what I meant, kiddo.”
“I... What do you want me to say?” Kurt’s voice sounded a bit off, but the vibrations were the same.
“The truth, kid. Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at him. Hell, the way he looks at you.”
Were they talking about him?
Kurt’s hand tightened slightly and Kurt’s thumb brushed over the back of his head; a habit they both enjoyed when Blaine was resting like this, the pressure light enough as to not wake him if he was asleep, but firm enough to feel if he wasn’t.
“I... Yes. Yes, okay? I love him. I can’t help it.” Oh. There was the swooping in his stomach again. “He’s... everything, dad.”
“He also smaller than my palm.”
So they were talking about him. But that meant, Kurt loved him? Also, ouch, Burt.
“I know. It’s not... it’s complicated. I know nothing can happen between us, okay? But I love him.” Kurt sighed, Blaine moving up -- then down with the motion. “I don’t even know if he feels the same way.”
“Pretty sure he does, kiddo.”
That was the end of that, and Blaine’s mind reeled in the silence that followed.
If only he’d been big. He kept wishing for it, every night, but nothing ever happened. Wishing worked, he knew, it did for his late aunt Helen; who’d been so big when Blaine was little - a whole eight inches, until the morning when she wasn’t even six.
So why couldn’t he be big?
It wasn’t much longer until Blaine shifted and opened his eyes, and Kurt brought him up to his - their - room when Burt told them to go to bed. Somehow Blaine didn’t think he would sleep much that night.
Later, pressed comfortably against Kurt’s cheek and jaw, feet resting against his neck, Blaine felt bold.
“Kurt?”
“Hmm?” So not asleep, then.
Blaine’s heart hammered, and before he could change his mind he leaned in, pressing his lips against Kurt’s cheek in a dry kiss.
Kurt’s breath hitched, index finger stilling against Blaine’s curls, where it had been tracing random, lulling patterns. “B-Blaine?”
“I heard you and Burt earlier.” Blaine could feel Kurt’s jaw tense. “J-Just wanted you to know I love you too.”
The words made Kurt relax, and he felt him swallow, and then he was turning slightly, pressing his lips against the top of Blaine’s head in a now familiar motion.
If things had been different, they would have kissed. Properly.
Nothing more was said, but Kurt’s hand came to rest over him, first hesitant and then firmer, and Blaine soon fell asleep covered in warmth and Kurt’s grounding scent.
Please, please let him be big.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6
Eventually, Blaine stopped freaking out everytime Burt came into a room, and he stopped trying to hide.
Mainly because Burt was kind of really nice, even nicer than he’d initially thought. He’d panicked a bit once when Burt picked him up, hand much bigger than Kurt’s, but had relaxed when Burt just helped him up on the couch.
It wasn’t like he really needed the help, but it was sort of nice to be helped anyway.
Burt was kind of awesome.
And a plus to Burt knowing was that Blaine now got included in... well, everything; he ate with them, watched TV with them and sometimes when Burt got home before Kurt, he’d even just sit around and talk just to him.
The one Sunday Burt had gone to the garage despite it being closed; Kurt had made them sandwiches. Blaine hadn’t expected to go out, but Kurt offered him his pocket and Blaine sat, enraptured with his surroundings, as they walked (well, Kurt walked) to the garage.
“Kurt, are you sure it’s safe?” He felt excited, but somewhat apprehensive as well. What if someone saw him?
“Don’t worry. It’s just dad there, he got a car in yesterday that he’s ridiculously excited about. The guys are all busy with their families today.”
The garage smelled... weird, but not particularly unpleasant.
“Hey kiddo!” Blaine peeked around, and saw Burt leaned over a car with its front up.
“Hi dad. Blaine and I brought you lunch.”
“Thanks. Blaine, don’t fall into the motor.”
Lunch went, as lunch goes, and while Blaine was curious about the garage the walk home was much more interesting. He’d only ever gone out into the backyard before, with its large fence going round it, limiting his views.
God, what he’d give to be big so he could walk around the world like Kurt did.
He’d told Kurt this, and had gotten a strange, yet fond look in return.
Some days, it was kind of nice to be little. There was the obvious advantage of being held by Kurt’s hands, and the morning when Blaine had woken before Kurt, he’d sat on Kurt’s chest, staring at him with a mischievous smile, patiently until Kurt woke up.
Kurt’s eyes blinked open, and upon seeing Blaine, he groaned. “That is so creepy, Blaine.”
“You love me anyway.”
The air changed at that, Kurt suddenly blushing bright, before sporting a closed off expression. “Yeah.” He mumbled, and Blaine felt an odd swoop in his stomach.
Then Kurt turned over and Blaine ended up tangled in the sheets.
Even after he got to feel more relaxed around the house, Blaine couldn’t help but stay close to Kurt. Whenever they joined Burt at the TV Blaine would automatically sit in Kurt’s lap, sometimes even curled up in his shirt pocket.
He’d heard Burt snort something about a puppy once when he did it, but he didn’t really understand the joke.
One of those evenings, he was comfortably resting against Kurt’s stomach, enjoying the feel of Kurt’s hand draped over him like a blanket. He’d been dozing on and off for the past hour, catching a few sentences here and there from either Burt or Kurt.
“...Asleep.”
Kurt’s voice, Blaine thought groggily. He had a nice voice. He couldn’t be bothered to move, insanely comfortable where he was. Instead he kept his eyes closed, about to drift off to sleep again as Burt’s voice cut through the haze of sleep.
“...Love him, don’t you?”
Blaine kept still, confused. He didn’t hear Burt’s voice like that often, usually only when he spoke about Kurt’s mother. Soft, with something he wasn’t sure how to place.
“Of course I do, dad. He’s my best friend.” Kurt’s voice, and Blaine felt the vibrations of it more than the voice itself, soft and quiet.
“Not what I meant, kiddo.”
“I... What do you want me to say?” Kurt’s voice sounded a bit off, but the vibrations were the same.
“The truth, kid. Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at him. Hell, the way he looks at you.”
Were they talking about him?
Kurt’s hand tightened slightly and Kurt’s thumb brushed over the back of his head; a habit they both enjoyed when Blaine was resting like this, the pressure light enough as to not wake him if he was asleep, but firm enough to feel if he wasn’t.
“I... Yes. Yes, okay? I love him. I can’t help it.” Oh. There was the swooping in his stomach again. “He’s... everything, dad.”
“He also smaller than my palm.”
So they were talking about him. But that meant, Kurt loved him? Also, ouch, Burt.
“I know. It’s not... it’s complicated. I know nothing can happen between us, okay? But I love him.” Kurt sighed, Blaine moving up -- then down with the motion. “I don’t even know if he feels the same way.”
“Pretty sure he does, kiddo.”
That was the end of that, and Blaine’s mind reeled in the silence that followed.
If only he’d been big. He kept wishing for it, every night, but nothing ever happened. Wishing worked, he knew, it did for his late aunt Helen; who’d been so big when Blaine was little - a whole eight inches, until the morning when she wasn’t even six.
So why couldn’t he be big?
It wasn’t much longer until Blaine shifted and opened his eyes, and Kurt brought him up to his - their - room when Burt told them to go to bed. Somehow Blaine didn’t think he would sleep much that night.
Later, pressed comfortably against Kurt’s cheek and jaw, feet resting against his neck, Blaine felt bold.
“Kurt?”
“Hmm?” So not asleep, then.
Blaine’s heart hammered, and before he could change his mind he leaned in, pressing his lips against Kurt’s cheek in a dry kiss.
Kurt’s breath hitched, index finger stilling against Blaine’s curls, where it had been tracing random, lulling patterns. “B-Blaine?”
“I heard you and Burt earlier.” Blaine could feel Kurt’s jaw tense. “J-Just wanted you to know I love you too.”
The words made Kurt relax, and he felt him swallow, and then he was turning slightly, pressing his lips against the top of Blaine’s head in a now familiar motion.
If things had been different, they would have kissed. Properly.
Nothing more was said, but Kurt’s hand came to rest over him, first hesitant and then firmer, and Blaine soon fell asleep covered in warmth and Kurt’s grounding scent.
Please, please let him be big.