Fic: Carnations and Cupcakes
Title: Carnations and Cupcakes
Rating: G
Word Count: 2300
Characters/Pairings: Blaine, Cooper and Mrs. Anderson very briefly
Summary: Cooper has forgotten something very important. Luckily Blaine is there to remind him.
Written for the Anderson Brothers Mini Bang. Thanks to Keri for reading it over! :)
On Tuesdays, Cooper picks Blaine up from daycare on his way home from school. He doesn't really mind, although he pretends it's a huge deal to make his mom feel guilty and therefore increase his allowance. One of the girls who works at the daycare is really pretty and Cooper always flirts with her while she's getting Blaine packed up and dressed, and Cooper doesn't mind spending time with his baby brother either. Not really. Blaine's a good kid - better than your average almost-four year old - and he can be fun to be around. Plus, he's sort of adorable and therefore a veritable chick magnet, what with his wild curls and enormous eyes that take up the better part of his face.
As they walk home from the daycare, Blaine meanders senselessly across the sidewalk, humming under his breath. He looks like he's thinking really hard and Cooper has to remind him more than once to take his hand before they cross the street.
“What's that you're singing, Squirt?”
“Nothin', Coop.”
Blaine is silent for the next few minutes until they cross in front of the park and he forgets that Cooper had been listening to him in the first place. Cooper pauses near the entrance and waits for Blaine's inevitable questions: Will you push me on the swing? Can I slide, Coop? But the questions don't come. Instead, Blaine starts singing quietly to himself again, kicking at a stone on the sidewalk with his tiny little boat shoes.
Cooper strains his ears to listen, to hear his brother's little voice over the yelling kids in the park. He picks up the melody after a moment and catches a few of the words.
“Why are you singing Happy Birthday, Blainey?”
Blaine picks at the colourful leaves on a nearby tree, shy again “Practising.”
“Practising for what? Whose birthday is it? Mine already passed in August.”
Blaine looks up at him, eyes wide under his furrowed brow, full lips in a bit of a pout. “It's Mama's birthday, Coop. Did you forgeted?”
And Cooper's mind shifts through the days of the week, of the month... and it is totally the seventh of October. He's so dead. “Aw, shit!” he exclaims and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyeing Blaine warily.
“Is that a bad word?” Blaine asks in a whisper. “I won't tell.” He shakes his head and reaches a hand up to take one of Cooper's.
“Suppose we should buy her something,” Cooper says when they pass a row of stores.
“Flowers!” Blaine exclaims. He jumps up, dropping Cooper's hand, and makes a beeline for the small flower shop that's nestled between a convenience store and a nail salon. Cooper shrugs and follows. All moms like flowers, he figures.
Once inside, Cooper feels overwhelmed. Blaine runs around like he's in heaven, smelling the blooms and making tiny fingerprints on the glass-fronted coolers as he gapes at the flowers within. Cooper decides the easiest thing would be to let Blaine choose.
“Blainey, what kind of flowers do you want to get for Mom?”
“I can pick?” Blaine asks, almost breathless.
“Course you can, Squirt. You're the one who remembered her birthday.”
Blaine nods very seriously and presses in close to the nearest cooler, palms flat against the glass. He points to a bucket of wide blown, blood red roses. “The red ones are pretty,” he says.
Cooper ponders them for a moment, thinking about how much money he's got on him. He's pretty sure roses are kind of pricey, especially long-stemmed ones. That's what the men in movies always buy when they're trying to win a girl's love.
“Um... I think red roses mean love, Blainey. Maybe we should get her more mom-like flowers.”
Blaine turns around and regards him, looking intrigued. “They do?”
“Uh huh. Like for guys to buy their girlfriends on Valentine's Day, or if they mess up and need to say sorry.”
“The day with the hearts,” Blaine says. He chews his bottom lip and nods again. Cooper almost laughs when he places both hands on his hips before swinging around to look back into the side-by-side coolers for a better choice.
He nods just once more at his own reflection in the glass before flipping around to face Cooper again. “Cartations,” he says. “Pink ones.”
“Pink carnations it is,” Cooper agrees and goes to talk to the lady behind the counter.
Blaine carries the flowers the last two blocks to their house, smiling and sniffing the bouquet the whole way.
In the kitchen, Cooper gets down a vase and lifts Blaine up onto the island so he can help arrange the flowers and empty the little packet of plant food into the water.
Afterwards when Cooper is rummaging through the fridge for a snack, Blaine speaks up.
“Coop, can we make somethin' else for Mama?”
“Like what?”
“A big cupcake.”
“A big... Oh, you mean a cake?”
Cooper bites into his apple and walks over to where Blaine is kicking his feet against the island, his face all scrunched up. “No. A big cupcake,” he says and juts out his chin.
Cooper goes through the cupboard where his parents keep the pans for baking and pulls out a round, metal one. “Like this, Blainey?”
Blaine nods, a wide grin spreading over his face. “Big cupcake,” he says, enunciating every sound. He kicks his feet happily and bounces up and down on his butt.
“Okay, but only if I can find one of those mixes in a box, because I don't know how to make cakes... er, cupcakes,” he amends when Blaine furrows his brow.
There is a mix. Blaine looks at the pictures on the box while Cooper silently reads through the instructions. It seems simple enough. Just add milk and oil and eggs and beat it all together with the mixer. He can do that.
He hands Blaine the box and goes in search of the mixer. When he's setting it up next to his brother, Blaine is still poring over the illustrated instructions. “Milk,” he says quietly to himself. “One, two, three eggs, and.... Coop, what's the yellow stuff?” He holds out the box for Cooper to see, pointing at the picture of the measuring cup full of oil. “Apple juice?”
“That's oil, Blainey. You don't put apple juice in cakes.”
“Only in pies?”
“I dunno. Probably.” Cooper fights with the mixer ends for a while, and when he finally gets them in place and has the right bowl, they're almost ready to go. “Okay, I'm gonna get the milk and eggs and stuff, Blainey. Don't touch the mixer, okay? 'Cause it's plugged in. Remember?”
Blaine nods and crosses his arms around his body. He scooches away from the mixer, eyeing it like it might bite him. Cooper measures the milk and oil in separate cups like the pictures show and helps Blaine pour them into the mixing bowl.
“Wanna crack the eggs, buddy?” he asks, holding one out to Blaine, whose eyes widen comically. He pulls up onto his knees and slides across the countertop until he's leaning over the bowl. Cooper cracks the first egg, showing Blaine how to knock it lightly against the rim of the bowl and then break the shell in two, letting the insides ooze out.
Blaine breaks the next one in slow motion, doing it perfectly but for a small piece of shell that falls in with the egg. Cooper fishes it out when Blaine is turned around to pluck the final egg out of the carton on the counter.
He's practically shivering with excitement and grinning ear to ear, and he gets a little too rough with the third egg, decimating the shell against the side of the bowl. The egg goo gets all over his hands and he reaches them out towards Cooper, his eyes already beginning to look wet. The thing about Blaine, though he's a pretty calm kid most of the time, he really, really hates being dirty. Especially his hands.
Cooper grabs for the paper towel and starts cleaning him up before he begins full-on crying. “It's okay, Blainey,” he soothes. “We'll get a new egg, all right?”
Blaine nods and sniffles a little, looking into the bowl where the egg and hundreds of tiny pieces of shell float on top of the milk and oil.
Cooper fishes out the ruined egg with a ladle and adds a new one and the contents of the cake mix package to the bowl while Blaine continues to wipe at his hands with a wet paper towel.
“Okay, here we go,” Cooper says, and pushes down the head of the mixer so that the beaters are in the mixture. “Cover your ears.”
Blaine grins and leans over in anticipation, abandoning his hand cleaning in order to clap both chubby little hands over his ears. Cooper turns the dial on the mixer and -
The white powder flies everywhere. All over Cooper, all over Blaine, all over the counter, the measuring implements, the eggs, the container of milk. Startled, Cooper looks down at his little brother who is blinking up at him, his dark curls speckled with white and clumps of powder covering his button nose and hanging from his eyelashes.
“Guess we shoulda mixed that up first, huh buddy?”
Blaine's eyes go wide and panicked and he blows upwards, trying to dislodge some of the mess from his face. Cooper looks at his own coated hands, trying to come up with the quickest way of cleaning off Blaine's face before he freaks out.
“Coop, I need a bubbles bath,” Blaine says, voice wobbly.
“Okay, as soon as we finish this first. We really need to finish this before -”
Blaine makes a whimpering sound and holds out his dirty hands and Cooper continues to search the immediate area for something clean that he can wipe his brother off with.
And just as Blaine has gotten fed up and started to cry, that's when their mother walks in.
“What in the world - ” she starts.
Blaine's tears cut off at once and he ambles to his feet on the counter. “Happy birthday, Mama. We maked you a big cupcake.”
Her eyes flit from the mess all over her sons and her kitchen, to the vase of carnations and back again. Cooper forces a smile and pokes Blaine in the side, whispering out of the corner of his mouth. “You're forgetting something.”
Blaine looks over at him, a single tear dangling from his eyelashes and his cheeks streaked with tear tracks and cake mix. He shrugs one shoulder and Cooper has to hold in a laugh. “You know, what you were practising,” he stage whispers, and Blaine's eyes widen.
Cooper watches as he straightens, chewing on his bottom lip, the apples of his cheeks blooming with a wash of red. He glances down at his sticky hands once before his eyes find their mother.
The song starts out quiet, but ends with more confidence, Blaine wearing a broad grin when he doesn't forget any of the words. “Happy birthday to yooooou!”
Mom claps and swoops in for messy kisses and hugs, picking Blaine up off the counter and swinging him around. “Let's get you into the tub, little one. Your big brother can finish up here.” She gives Cooper a wink and a light kiss on the cheek before carrying a smiling Blaine towards the stairs. Cooper can see him trying to surreptitiously wipe off his messy hands on the back of her blouse as they go.
Rating: G
Word Count: 2300
Characters/Pairings: Blaine, Cooper and Mrs. Anderson very briefly
Summary: Cooper has forgotten something very important. Luckily Blaine is there to remind him.
Written for the Anderson Brothers Mini Bang. Thanks to Keri for reading it over! :)
On Tuesdays, Cooper picks Blaine up from daycare on his way home from school. He doesn't really mind, although he pretends it's a huge deal to make his mom feel guilty and therefore increase his allowance. One of the girls who works at the daycare is really pretty and Cooper always flirts with her while she's getting Blaine packed up and dressed, and Cooper doesn't mind spending time with his baby brother either. Not really. Blaine's a good kid - better than your average almost-four year old - and he can be fun to be around. Plus, he's sort of adorable and therefore a veritable chick magnet, what with his wild curls and enormous eyes that take up the better part of his face.
As they walk home from the daycare, Blaine meanders senselessly across the sidewalk, humming under his breath. He looks like he's thinking really hard and Cooper has to remind him more than once to take his hand before they cross the street.
“What's that you're singing, Squirt?”
“Nothin', Coop.”
Blaine is silent for the next few minutes until they cross in front of the park and he forgets that Cooper had been listening to him in the first place. Cooper pauses near the entrance and waits for Blaine's inevitable questions: Will you push me on the swing? Can I slide, Coop? But the questions don't come. Instead, Blaine starts singing quietly to himself again, kicking at a stone on the sidewalk with his tiny little boat shoes.
Cooper strains his ears to listen, to hear his brother's little voice over the yelling kids in the park. He picks up the melody after a moment and catches a few of the words.
“Why are you singing Happy Birthday, Blainey?”
Blaine picks at the colourful leaves on a nearby tree, shy again “Practising.”
“Practising for what? Whose birthday is it? Mine already passed in August.”
Blaine looks up at him, eyes wide under his furrowed brow, full lips in a bit of a pout. “It's Mama's birthday, Coop. Did you forgeted?”
And Cooper's mind shifts through the days of the week, of the month... and it is totally the seventh of October. He's so dead. “Aw, shit!” he exclaims and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyeing Blaine warily.
“Is that a bad word?” Blaine asks in a whisper. “I won't tell.” He shakes his head and reaches a hand up to take one of Cooper's.
“Suppose we should buy her something,” Cooper says when they pass a row of stores.
“Flowers!” Blaine exclaims. He jumps up, dropping Cooper's hand, and makes a beeline for the small flower shop that's nestled between a convenience store and a nail salon. Cooper shrugs and follows. All moms like flowers, he figures.
Once inside, Cooper feels overwhelmed. Blaine runs around like he's in heaven, smelling the blooms and making tiny fingerprints on the glass-fronted coolers as he gapes at the flowers within. Cooper decides the easiest thing would be to let Blaine choose.
“Blainey, what kind of flowers do you want to get for Mom?”
“I can pick?” Blaine asks, almost breathless.
“Course you can, Squirt. You're the one who remembered her birthday.”
Blaine nods very seriously and presses in close to the nearest cooler, palms flat against the glass. He points to a bucket of wide blown, blood red roses. “The red ones are pretty,” he says.
Cooper ponders them for a moment, thinking about how much money he's got on him. He's pretty sure roses are kind of pricey, especially long-stemmed ones. That's what the men in movies always buy when they're trying to win a girl's love.
“Um... I think red roses mean love, Blainey. Maybe we should get her more mom-like flowers.”
Blaine turns around and regards him, looking intrigued. “They do?”
“Uh huh. Like for guys to buy their girlfriends on Valentine's Day, or if they mess up and need to say sorry.”
“The day with the hearts,” Blaine says. He chews his bottom lip and nods again. Cooper almost laughs when he places both hands on his hips before swinging around to look back into the side-by-side coolers for a better choice.
He nods just once more at his own reflection in the glass before flipping around to face Cooper again. “Cartations,” he says. “Pink ones.”
“Pink carnations it is,” Cooper agrees and goes to talk to the lady behind the counter.
Blaine carries the flowers the last two blocks to their house, smiling and sniffing the bouquet the whole way.
In the kitchen, Cooper gets down a vase and lifts Blaine up onto the island so he can help arrange the flowers and empty the little packet of plant food into the water.
Afterwards when Cooper is rummaging through the fridge for a snack, Blaine speaks up.
“Coop, can we make somethin' else for Mama?”
“Like what?”
“A big cupcake.”
“A big... Oh, you mean a cake?”
Cooper bites into his apple and walks over to where Blaine is kicking his feet against the island, his face all scrunched up. “No. A big cupcake,” he says and juts out his chin.
Cooper goes through the cupboard where his parents keep the pans for baking and pulls out a round, metal one. “Like this, Blainey?”
Blaine nods, a wide grin spreading over his face. “Big cupcake,” he says, enunciating every sound. He kicks his feet happily and bounces up and down on his butt.
“Okay, but only if I can find one of those mixes in a box, because I don't know how to make cakes... er, cupcakes,” he amends when Blaine furrows his brow.
There is a mix. Blaine looks at the pictures on the box while Cooper silently reads through the instructions. It seems simple enough. Just add milk and oil and eggs and beat it all together with the mixer. He can do that.
He hands Blaine the box and goes in search of the mixer. When he's setting it up next to his brother, Blaine is still poring over the illustrated instructions. “Milk,” he says quietly to himself. “One, two, three eggs, and.... Coop, what's the yellow stuff?” He holds out the box for Cooper to see, pointing at the picture of the measuring cup full of oil. “Apple juice?”
“That's oil, Blainey. You don't put apple juice in cakes.”
“Only in pies?”
“I dunno. Probably.” Cooper fights with the mixer ends for a while, and when he finally gets them in place and has the right bowl, they're almost ready to go. “Okay, I'm gonna get the milk and eggs and stuff, Blainey. Don't touch the mixer, okay? 'Cause it's plugged in. Remember?”
Blaine nods and crosses his arms around his body. He scooches away from the mixer, eyeing it like it might bite him. Cooper measures the milk and oil in separate cups like the pictures show and helps Blaine pour them into the mixing bowl.
“Wanna crack the eggs, buddy?” he asks, holding one out to Blaine, whose eyes widen comically. He pulls up onto his knees and slides across the countertop until he's leaning over the bowl. Cooper cracks the first egg, showing Blaine how to knock it lightly against the rim of the bowl and then break the shell in two, letting the insides ooze out.
Blaine breaks the next one in slow motion, doing it perfectly but for a small piece of shell that falls in with the egg. Cooper fishes it out when Blaine is turned around to pluck the final egg out of the carton on the counter.
He's practically shivering with excitement and grinning ear to ear, and he gets a little too rough with the third egg, decimating the shell against the side of the bowl. The egg goo gets all over his hands and he reaches them out towards Cooper, his eyes already beginning to look wet. The thing about Blaine, though he's a pretty calm kid most of the time, he really, really hates being dirty. Especially his hands.
Cooper grabs for the paper towel and starts cleaning him up before he begins full-on crying. “It's okay, Blainey,” he soothes. “We'll get a new egg, all right?”
Blaine nods and sniffles a little, looking into the bowl where the egg and hundreds of tiny pieces of shell float on top of the milk and oil.
Cooper fishes out the ruined egg with a ladle and adds a new one and the contents of the cake mix package to the bowl while Blaine continues to wipe at his hands with a wet paper towel.
“Okay, here we go,” Cooper says, and pushes down the head of the mixer so that the beaters are in the mixture. “Cover your ears.”
Blaine grins and leans over in anticipation, abandoning his hand cleaning in order to clap both chubby little hands over his ears. Cooper turns the dial on the mixer and -
The white powder flies everywhere. All over Cooper, all over Blaine, all over the counter, the measuring implements, the eggs, the container of milk. Startled, Cooper looks down at his little brother who is blinking up at him, his dark curls speckled with white and clumps of powder covering his button nose and hanging from his eyelashes.
“Guess we shoulda mixed that up first, huh buddy?”
Blaine's eyes go wide and panicked and he blows upwards, trying to dislodge some of the mess from his face. Cooper looks at his own coated hands, trying to come up with the quickest way of cleaning off Blaine's face before he freaks out.
“Coop, I need a bubbles bath,” Blaine says, voice wobbly.
“Okay, as soon as we finish this first. We really need to finish this before -”
Blaine makes a whimpering sound and holds out his dirty hands and Cooper continues to search the immediate area for something clean that he can wipe his brother off with.
And just as Blaine has gotten fed up and started to cry, that's when their mother walks in.
“What in the world - ” she starts.
Blaine's tears cut off at once and he ambles to his feet on the counter. “Happy birthday, Mama. We maked you a big cupcake.”
Her eyes flit from the mess all over her sons and her kitchen, to the vase of carnations and back again. Cooper forces a smile and pokes Blaine in the side, whispering out of the corner of his mouth. “You're forgetting something.”
Blaine looks over at him, a single tear dangling from his eyelashes and his cheeks streaked with tear tracks and cake mix. He shrugs one shoulder and Cooper has to hold in a laugh. “You know, what you were practising,” he stage whispers, and Blaine's eyes widen.
Cooper watches as he straightens, chewing on his bottom lip, the apples of his cheeks blooming with a wash of red. He glances down at his sticky hands once before his eyes find their mother.
The song starts out quiet, but ends with more confidence, Blaine wearing a broad grin when he doesn't forget any of the words. “Happy birthday to yooooou!”
Mom claps and swoops in for messy kisses and hugs, picking Blaine up off the counter and swinging him around. “Let's get you into the tub, little one. Your big brother can finish up here.” She gives Cooper a wink and a light kiss on the cheek before carrying a smiling Blaine towards the stairs. Cooper can see him trying to surreptitiously wipe off his messy hands on the back of her blouse as they go.