"Blaine! Get off of the coffee table!"
Blaine jumps off, his shoulders slumping, eyes cast downward as he waits for whatever punishment his babysitter deems necessary for such a heinous act. In all fairness this isn't the first time that he's deliberately disobeyed his mother's orders while she was out of the house, and Kurt is such a rule follower. It's really a drag.
"How many times am I going to have to tell you before you get it through that curly head of yours?" Kurt says, standing like a small mountain in front of an 8 year old Blaine. Kurt may only be 7 years older, but Blaine is short for his age and he's sure Kurt is a least an eighth giant.
"I'm sorry, Kurt."
"Don't say you're sorry to me, just wait until your mom gets home and sees the size two foot prints dancing the fox trot across the mahogany," Kurt says with a playful smile. In all honesty, he finds Blaine's little performances endearing. His eyes close like he's projecting an arena on the inside of his eyelids, and he wears this little smile that Kurt is sure is the cure to cancer. The coffee table is his stage, the remote his microphone, and Lego men his audience as he belts out a never-ending set list of top forty songs. But Kurt's appreciation for his free spirit and amazing stage presence doesn't change the fact that dancing on the furniture is against the Anderson's house rules, and it's a safety hazard, and yada, yada, yada…
"If I wipe it down will you please, please, please let me watch a show? Just a thirty-minute one? Please?"
Ugh. Another Anderson house rule: No screen time during the week.
"Blaine…"' he sighs, exasperated.
Blaine sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes, "Kurt…" he tilts his head, and looks up at Kurt with the best puppy dog eyes Kurt has ever encountered in his years of babysitting. He's always stiff as a board when it comes to following the parent's rules. Babysitting is his only source of income, and he has a certain quality of life that he likes to maintain. Kurt knows these kind of people drop babysitters and nannies at the drop of a hat; he doesn't want to risk it. But…
"Is all your homework done?"
"Yup!"
"Even reading?"
"Yup!"
"And you practiced Piano for the full thirty minutes?"
"Yup!"
Kurt squints, eyes zeroing in on Blaine's amazingly triangular eyebrows, it's his tell they twitch when he's lying. His smile is unwavering, and his eyebrows remain still. "When is your mom getting back?"
"Not until after 7," he says, smile growing just a bit, as if Kurt asking that translated to a 'yes'.
"One show," Kurt says, finally breaking down and succumbing to those stupid puppy dog eyes. "Thirty minutes, not a second more."
Blaine runs to the den (because that's a thing the Anderson's have. A whole separate living room for the T.V. and the game consoles, so that when their rich friends come over they look sophisticated, and cultured) throwing a 'thanks' over his shoulder.
Kurt follows him, looking forward to some mindless T.V. after three hours of switching between Geometry homework, and chasing after Blaine. He curls up in the corner opposite of Blaine, what he's declared as "his seat" on the weekends when he babysits Blaine and all they do is have marathons of Disney movies.
Blaine goes to On Demand, because it's 5:15 and it'd be a waste of this once in a life time opportunity to start in the middle of one show, and then have to turn off another halfway through. He picks an episode of "Austin and Ally", which makes Kurt inwardly groan.
Blaine is quiet for 15 glorious minutes and then, "I can sing better than them."
Kurt looks over at the fuming little puppy at the other end of the couch. His lips are pursed, and his arms are crossed over his sweater vest clad chest. Kurt's sure he's never seen anything cuter. "I know you can, but why are you mad about that? It's a good thing."
He looks over at Kurt, a look of disgust plaguing his face. "I can sing better than them and I don't have a show! I should have a show Kurt!" He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"If you really want it you could be in a show when you're older," Kurt says dismissively, turning his attention back to the T.V. A look out of the corner of his eyes a few seconds later tells him that Blaine has not followed suite. Instead of staring at the T.V. he's glaring at Kurt, mustering up the best Bitch face he possibly can. Kurt's impressed…and scared.
"But you can sing better than them too, and you don't have a show!" Blaine says, frown getting deeper and deeper.
"What if I didn't want to be on a show?" Kurt asks, going along with this whole charade, if only to see how riled he can get the poor boy before handing him back to his mother.
"Well that'd be really stupid,"
Kurt's cheeks puff out as he suppresses a laugh, "is that so?"
"Mmhmm. You sing too good, and you're too pretty not to have a show," Blaine says simply, as if calling Kurt 'pretty' is as natural as calling a flower beautiful. As if those words didn't fill Kurt with way too much hope for future generations of kids like him. But of course he can't explain any of that to an 8 year old.
"Well thank you, Blaine," he says, instead of wrapping the little curly haired devil up in a hug and telling him just how much those words mean to him, "and I do want to be in a show, by the way. Not on T.V. or anything, but I'm trying out for a part in my school's musical, 'The Sound of Music'."
Blaine's face lights up at his announcement, and soon Kurt has a lapful of hyperactive 8 year old. "Really? When you get the part can I come see the show? Do you think mom will take me?"
"Whoa! Calm down there crazy, I haven't even auditioned yet."
"You're gonna get the part, I know it!"
"And if I do you'll be the first to know, I promise."
"Good! Ooooh I know! I can help you practice your song. I'll play the piano, and you sing!"
"I don't even know what I'm gonna sing yet," Kurt admits, as Blaine clambers off his lap, "Austin and Ally" forgotten, as he runs into the parlor sitting at the digital baby grand tucked in the corner. Kurt switches the T.V. off before following him.
"That's ok," Blaine says, flipping through sheet music as Kurt takes a seat next to him on the piano bench. "I'll tell you what I know how to play, and you can pick from that."
"Good idea."
"Let's see…"
"Oooh, do you know this one?"
Blaine smiles at him, all bright eyes and jack-o-lantern smile before saying, "That's my favorite!"
…
Kurt feels good about his audition that next Wednesday. He didn't go out for a main character or anything, he didn't want to push his luck to he went out for Friedrich Von Trapp to play it safe. He felt good going into his audition after practicing his song over and over again with Blaine. He knew Blaine could play piano before, obviously, he'd been babysitting him for the past 2 years nearly everyday after school (except for Thursdays because he has glee club) and he'd had to sit in the parlor on numerous occasions to make sure that he was practicing the full thirty minutes, and not turning on one of those demo songs. But he didn't know his repertoire extended past the classics in his practice books. All those days of forcing him to reach his thirty minutes, because the classics bored him. Give the kid some lyrics to sing along to while he plays and he's tickle the ivories for hours on end.
When Kurt babysits him that night he's amused to find that Blaine is more stressed than he is on whether he got the part or not.
He has Glee club on Thursday, so he doesn't see Blaine, but he can hear his squeaky little voice in his head all day.
"Did you get the part?"
"If you get in when's the first show?"
"Promise me I can come see it?"
…
The list is posted at lunch on Friday.
He gets a part.
Not Friedrich; but Captain Von Trapp.
A lead. It's opposite Rachel, so he has to deal with that drama, but it's a lead! He'll take the unnecessary and sometimes rude "constructive criticisms" she has to offer, because he has a lead role!
He's stewing the rest of the day, waiting until he can tell Blaine, because without him he may not have done this. He pushed off finding an audition piece for so long, Blaine was what he needed, that little push to get his shit together and work for what he wanted so much, but was almost too afraid to go after.
When he finally does get to the Anderson house, all he can think to do is hug the life out of the small, unsuspecting boy.
"You got it, didn't you?!" He says when he catches his breath.
"I didn't only get a part, Blaine, I got the part! I got a lead role," he says, his smile mirroring that of the boy in front of him.
"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!" he says, bouncing up and down on his toes, he flings his arms around Kurt's neck, as he continues his mantra in his ear… loudly.
"Hey, I have an idea!" Kurt says after thirty seconds of abuse to his eardrum, "why don't we watch 'The Sound of Music' tonight? So when you come to the show you'll know what's going on."
"Ok!" Blaine agrees, already bounding into the living room.
"Uh-uh!" Kurt calls, "homework and piano first. Then we can start the movie."
There's a groan from the other room.
When the homework and practicing is done Kurt finds the movie in the Anderson's collection, and pops it into the DVD player. He flips the lights off, before curling up in his seat and fixing a blanket over himself. He waits for Blaine to get situated before pressing play.
Blaine watches on in silence, which is weird for him, but he doesn't know the songs or any of the funny lines that he's usually so good at spitting out along with the characters. Halfway through Blaine is starting to get tired, Kurt can see his eyelids drooping, sometimes closing completely before he shakes himself awake. He slips down until his head is resting on the arm of the couch, fighting desperately to keep his eyes open, but he just can't anymore. He's asleep for twenty minutes before a loud noise from the movie wakes him, but just enough for him to roll over on his back and doze off again. But before he does his eyes blink open to meet Kurt's.
"I knew you could do it, Kurt. You're gonna be the best, and prettiest Captain ever."
And Blaine reminds him again opening night when his nerves are frayed, and he feels one burp away from throwing up. Blaine is there to give him a hug and a reassuring smile, and Kurt sees the flowers that Mrs. Anderson is holding behind him, and it's all he needs, that little push to go out there and give it all he's got because Blaine is counting on him.
And Blaine is not disappointed.
…
14 years later
Kurt sees the billboard on a Friday shopping trip with Rachel.
"Oh my god," he says, stopping short in the middle of Time Square, right in front of the red stairs.
"What?" Rachel asks.
"I- Blaine Anderson," he says pointing to the giant billboard for "How To Succeed at Business Without Really Trying". "I used to babysit him!"
Rachel grabs onto his arm, clearly suppressing the urge to scream, "Kurt! You know someone on Broadway and you didn't tell me?"
"Well I didn't know!" he bites back, "the last time I saw him he was 10 years old and had braces. He moved to Westerville not long after. I didn't keep contact."
"Well we're seeing it right?" she asks, Kurt yelps as she drags him in the direction of the Al Hirschfeld Theater by the arms she already has a hold of, presumably to get tickets for the next available show. Which is exactly what they do.
They get tickets for Saturday evening, there were a few available for the afternoon, but he wanted to try and catch him at the stage door, see if little Blaine Anderson remembered his mean old babysitter.
…
It's two hours before the show and Kurt has decidedly nothing to wear. He has no idea why he's even worried about it. He should not be worried about what he looks like; he's going to see a kid he used to babysit (babysit Kurt, he's a baby) fulfilling his life long dreams of being "in a show." He has absolutely no need to be nervous. Except he is.
He groans, which Rachel takes as an open invitation to enter his room, and make herself comfy on his bed, while he looks through his wardrobe one more time.
"You think he's cute!" She says when he groans again, flopping onto his back on top of a pile of clothes.
"Do not!"
"Oh come on, he is cute. And he's legal right?"
"Jesus, Rachel! Of course, he's what…uh 22? 23? I don't know, but he's legal. It's just- I feel like a creepy old man."
"You're hardly and old man, Kurt. Plus he may not even be gay."
"Rachel he's into theater, he's probably gay. Plus…"
"Oh my god, plus, plus, plus?" Rachel says enunciating each plus with a light slap to his knee. Kurt's cheeks flame.
"Well he used to call me 'pretty' all the time, like it was no big deal for him to call another guy pretty. I mean he was 8 at the time… it's probably just a kid thing."
Rachel's, "Awwwwwwweeeeeee," is so sweet it makes him want to throw up, and hide away in his pile of stupid clothes forever.
"Stop!" he warns her, but Rachel has never been one to take a hint.
"Kurt," she coos, "he totally had a crush on you!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did n- you really think so?"
Rachel squeals, and Kurt tries to find something decent to wear.
…
The show is amazing. Blaine is amazing. His voice has only gotten better with time and puberty. Kurt's blown away.
He all but carries Rachel out, pens and Playbills at hand as they wait at the stage door. They have all the actors sign their bills as they wait (impatiently) for the lead to come out. When he finally does Kurt feels nauseous again.
This is creepy. This is creepy right?
It's too late to leave now, if he left his prime spot, pressed against the fence, now he'd just draw attention.
It's dark outside and Kurt's kind of trying to hide behind Rachel, which doesn't work very well because she's a Hobbit. But Blaine's not really focused, he's signing, and taking pictures but moving rather quickly, and his head is down for most of the time scratching the initials BDA on every Playbill that's handed to him.
Kurt's stomach turns when he gets to Rachel.
"You were amazing," Rachel gushes."
"Awe, thank you so much," he says, his words dripping in sweet humble pie. He signs his initials before meeting Rachel's gaze as he hands the book back over. "You look really familiar," he says, squinting at her for a long moment.
"Well I-"
"Well I would hope so," Kurt cuts in, stepping out from behind her, "she did play opposite me in 'The Sound of Music' and I'll honestly be heart broken if you don't remember that."
"Oh my god, Kurt?" Blaine asks, waiting for Kurt's nod before he grabs him in a hug across the fence. "Wow I-I this is so weird! This is-this is amazing! How did you know I was here?" Kurt laughs at how flustered Blaine is suddenly.
"Well there is a 70 foot billboard of your face in Time Square-"
"Right. That," he says, nodding as if he'd actually forgotten it was there. "Wow this is-wow. I um- I have to keep signing or I'm afraid they'll start throwing punches or something, but if you stay for like 20 minutes, would you wanna get coffee after? Catch up? I'd love to hear what you're doing these days!"
Kurt finds himself saying yes (those damn puppy dog eyes, still the same after all these years) before Blaine is whisked away into the mass of people all pining for his attention.
"Should I go home?" Rachel asks, when they're just outside the crowd, waiting not even a quarter lock from the doors.
"I-I don't know. I don't want it to be weird!"
"Did you see how excited he was to see you?"
"Yeah but-"
"Tell him I have to work tomorrow and I had to get to bed," she insists.
"I-"
"No, it's final. I'm leaving." She starts walking away, turning around when she's 20 feet down the block to say, "see ya in the morning, cradle robber."
…
"I'm actually still in shock that you're here," Blaine says, stirring the generous amount of cinnamon he sprinkled onto his medium drip in with on of those red coffee stirrers.
"I'm actually still shocked that you're on Broadway!" Kurt blanches as soon as he says it, "oh my- I didn't mean it like that-shit-"
But Blaine's just laughing, "Kurt it's fine I know what you mean. You're the one that was always there to remind me of my talents," he brings his coffee up to his lips taking a little sip to test how hot it is. "You were also always there to force me to practice piano."
"Yeah, well that's what I was paid for, they weren't my rules. Blame your mother."
Blaine chuckles, his cheeks slowly turning red as they both sip their coffees in silence. "I just want to tell you how much it means to me that you saw the show," he says eventually, pointedly avoiding Kurt's eyes.
"I'm just sorry I didn't know about it sooner, I would have gone to opening night," Blaine looks up and smile shyly at him.
"I should have found you on Facebook or something and told you. I mean it's only fair, I was the first person you told when you got Captain Von Trapp," Blaine's smile gets wider and his blush grows deeper, "and you are kind of my hero… Oh god that sounded so cheesy."
"I-wow," is all Kurt can really find to say. It's so not what he expected. "You do know I'm not even in theater anymore, right?"
"Yeah but when you're 8 years old, and the one person that's always been there for you, except on Thursdays because he had glee club, not only tells you, but proves to you that your dreams are in reach… Kurt I never forgot that day when you told me you got Captain Von Trapp."
"Me either," Kurt says, a blush of his own coloring his ivory cheeks. "Blaine you're the one who made it possible for me to get that part. If it weren't for you I may not have even auditioned."
"What?" Blaine asks, the look on his face completely flabbergasted.
"It was five days before auditions and I didn't even have a song picked out."
"Then why'd you tell me you wanted to be in it?"
"Because I did," he answered truthfully, tracing the lip of his cup with his pointer finger, "But I was scared, almost too scared to do it. But you were so eager to help, and you forced me to practice that song everyday, over and over again. I had it down by the time auditions rolled around so I did it. I wanted to get the part because if I hadn't-well look where you are now Blaine, Broadway! What if I didn't get the part, or any part and you gave up on your dream too?"
"I would have."
"What?"
"I would have, my parents never supported me. They said musical theater wasn't a "real" degree. I would have become a doctor, or a lawyer or something." Blaine cringes as swirls his coffee cup in his hand, before looking back up to lock eyes with Kurt.
"I'm sorry," Kurt starts, shaking his head in sympathy, though he doesn't really know how it feels, his dad always supported him no matter what.
"No, don't be. I knew where I belonged, and that was all because of you. As soon as I saw you on that stage, all of my fears were gone. I knew we'd both achieve whatever we set our minds to."
"Very philosophical for an 8 year old," Kurt smirked.
"Well I did learn from the very best, and prettiest babysitter of them all," Blaine said, charm dripping from his voice, wrapping Kurt's hear up in warmth, and giving a tight squeeze.
"Well, well, well, did he teach you how to flirt too?"
"Nah, that was my big brother, and boy did he teach me well."
Kurt smirked, any residual anxieties about the direction of the conversation flying out the window, along with his common sense apparently. "Well, we'll see about that won't we?"