A random Childhood Klaine Drabble I wrote quite a while ago.
:)
It was a beautiful day, and the warm sun was beaming down on the backs of an eight your old Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.
As Kurt sat up to brush the grass and dirt off the jacket his mommy had just bought him, Blaine Anderson slowly slipped his delicate little hand into Kurt's, intertwining their fingers, and brushing his thumb against Kurt's palm.
Kurt let out a surprised gasp at the sudden action, and Blaine quickly pulled his hand away.
"I'm so sorry Kurt; I don't know why I did that. I, was that... wrong?" Blaine nervously gulped.
As a slight frown spread across Kurt's face, he crossed his legs and pondered over the subject for a few moments.
"I don't know", he simply replied with.
...
"It's just that, I really like you Kurt. I'm sorry, I should go, yeah, I need to go now. I'll see you at school."
"No wait!" Kurt called out to his friend, watching as the newly insecure Blaine turned his head just enough to reach Kurt's eye line; he looked upset, ashamed almost.
"Just sit down", Kurt whispered softly.
"I really like you too Blaine", Kurt concluded, using all the knowledge his innocent eight year old mind possessed.
"I've just never seen boys holding hands before, that's all".
Blaine winced and hung his head, picking at a blade of grass while avoiding Kurt's stare.
...
"But I do know that I really really like you, and there's certainly nothing wrong with liking someone, nothing at all".
Kurt slowly reached his hand across to Blaine's chin, and gently wiped a tear that had strayed on his cheek away with his thumb; Kurt giggled as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Blaine's rosy lips.
"So", Blaine beamed after a few seconds, "I like you, and you like me, and it doesn't matter if other boys don't do this, or if they call us names, because" he said, quoting Kurt, and suddenly feeling very wise and grown up, "there's certainly nothing wrong with liking someone".
As they lay back down, hand in hand; discussing cloud shapes & fairytales, in the comfort of Kurt's pretty front yard, "We'll be just fine", the eight year old muttered, and with a small nod of agreement from Kurt's best friend, it was settled.
Burt Hummel stood in his kitchen, momentarily watching his son cuddling a small, curly haired boy he had grew to know so well, as a small smile grew on his face, full of pride and acceptance; he turned around and strolled over to where his wife was calling him from the living room. Yes, he thought. They'd be just fine.