"Five," Kurt slightly chokes on the word.
"You look so cute as Snoopy," Blaine says while leading Kurt's left hand up to his mouth kissing its palm.
Kurt can feel the loving smile that shapes Blaine's lips on his skin as Blaine places another, this time open mouthed, kiss to his left palm before Blaine asks "And your mom, all in yellow, with a hat made purely of…feathers?"
"Sometimes it is scary how observant you can be concerning some things, and how oblivious about so many others. Anyway, yeah, she, Mom, apparently thought – my dad told me years later – it would be hilarious for her to be Woodstock, you know. Kind of me being puppy Snoopy and smaller than Woodstock at the time."
"Oh my Gosh Kurt, every time you tell me a new story about your mother I love her more."
"And I miss her more," Kurt murmurs, eyes darting down briefly, before Kurt closes them letting out a stuttering sigh.
"Babe," is all Blaine says before pulling Kurt deep into his arms. "You know," Blaine says as he feels the first tears hit his back – a strangely warm and wet sensation on his bare, slightly cold, skin – "it makes me very happy to hear all these stories, even if some are just stories to you as well, that your dad told you. I can always see that glint in your eye when you, telling these stories, remember something about her yourself you thought you had forgotten."
"Thank you for helping me remember her, by listening; and yes, the Woodstock thing was so her. Of course everyone in the neighborhood either thought she was crazy for dressing up like this, or that she was that big yellow bird from Sesame Street, who had kidnapped poor Snoopy."
Kurt loved the sound of Blaine's laughter filling the cold, almost too quiet, night air, and burying his head in Blaine's shoulder Blaine could feel the smile silently forming on Kurt's face as well.
"Your skin is so cold," Kurt realizes a little shocked.
"It's fine," Blaine says, leaning down to kiss Kurt's cheek.
"No, no. I am sorry for…"
"Hey," Blaine says pulling back a little, so Kurt has to lift his head. As their gazes meet, Blaine says, "I know people have made you feel that way in the past, like you have something to apologize for, like their lies a deep offence in being you. Don't ever apologize for being you. Not with me. Because, and I mean that Kurt, if humanity has any sense, people like you are the future. Loving and tolerant and open to others' minds; which makes you vulnerable and fragile too in a whole different way than others, and I want to always be there to protect you, but there might come one day when I am not there, so I need you to see how strong you really are, how strong you have already proven you can be, all by yourself. I know you sometimes think your strength is all borrowed from me, I know, Kurt, because I feel the same way about you, but I think we both need to realize that we are strong together and alone, you Kurt Hummel no doubt make me dare to be stronger, your love makes me want to be stronger, and so I am."
"I make you stronger," Kurt asks almost shyly.
"Every day," Blaine says looking dead serious.
"I…," Kurt tries to find words to form a response but ends up just sitting there mouth open.
And really, Blaine does not need to hear any words, the pure adoration he sees in Kurt's eyes is reply enough and he pulls the boy back into an even deeper embrace than before. Holding Kurt as close to himself as he possibly can and after a second feeling Kurt attempting the same.
After a couple of minutes just holding each other, Blaine shivers lightly and Kurt whispers "Bed?"
Kurt feels Blaine nod into his right shoulder.
Tucked back under the covers, Kurt immediately pulls Blaine back into his arms, running his hands up and down Blaine's back to generate some warmth to fill the space under the covers that is not Kurt and Blaine.
"The trunk," Kurt finally brings himself to say when they are warm and cosy again, "old costumes, Mom and I wore trick or treating every year."
"Is that why you love wearing costumes all year long for Glee and Drama and all that, at any chance really, but…not on Halloween?"
"It was our thing, I never once went again, not even with Dad. I would feel like I am leaving her behind, even more. I can't bring myself to do it."
"Why didn't you just tell me Kurt? We don't have to go to the Warblers' Halloween Party. Or just go but not dress up."
"It is kind of a complicated story to just spring on someone, don't you think? I never thought I could find the words to explain it so you would not think I was being childish or immature or pathetic," Blaine is about to open his mouth to protest the use of such self-degrading terms, when Kurt continues, "but as it turns out, with you, I never need too many words. I should have known that by now, shouldn't I?"
"I am glad you realize it, now, and not in 20 years or so," Blaine says smiling again.
"I really want to go to the party, I think that actually is why I woke up panicking, I want to go so bad, I miss the guys, but I don't think I can dress up, and they will ask why and I won't be able to tell them or at least not without crying and that will ruin the party and…"
"Kurt, Kurt!, " Blaine stops his boyfriend's ramble by tenderly placing a kiss to Kurt's lips, who sounded like he was ready and about to ramble on for the next couple of hours without taking so much as a single breath. The later fascinates Blaine deeply, the sooner just had to be prevented.
Kurt's instantly calms at the feel of his boyfriend's lips tenderly touching his own.
"I have an idea, Love," Blaine says, his lips still so close that they are brushing against Kurt's with every word, a thrilling sensation to Kurt, but the worry is nevertheless still in his voice when he replies.
"Okay," Kurt sounds surprisingly small and almost fearful.
Blaine frowns at the sound of it, and takes – both boys lying on their sides facing each other - both of Kurt's hands in his own as he says "How about," Blaine tries to make his voice sound as soft and loving as possible, "you keep that dark blue t-shirt, we add some suspenders of mine and a bowtie to it, and a pair of trousers that will look adorably short on you; and you throw together an outfit made up of your clothes for me, in which I will look even shorter than I am, positively drowning in the material."
"Number 42," Kurt whispers, and all Blaine can think to say is "Sorry?"
"Number 42 on the list, you just told me what it is."
The curious look on Blaine's face makes Kurt smile, and Blaine cannot help respond with a smile of his own, especially at hearing Kurt's answer.
"Number 42," Kurt repeats, "Whenever I am down, or in pain you get creative to make me feel better, and loved. Like when I had that cold a few weeks back and you kept bringing me tea and homemade soup. Before that I did not even know you could cook."
"Neither did I," Blaine whispers feeling self-conscious.
"See, exactly what I mean," Kurt replies, affectionately squeezing Blaine's hands, which are still intertwined, pressed against each others' chests, in the little space left between the two boys' bodies.
If it had been a full moon and that little lighter in the room, Kurt might have noticed the slight blush spreading on Blaine's face. As it is, Kurt only registers Blaine looking suddenly shy.
So Kurt uses the moment to simply take in how beautiful Blaine looks, lying here, with him, then places a soft kiss on Blaine's cheek.
"So, you want to go, to the party with me, dressed like an old adorable couple that has been together so long they don't bother any more to keep their wardrobe apart?"
"Sounds great, although you know that is never going to happen with us, we have styles too different."
"Right," Blaine says smirking at Kurt in his dark blue shirt, but saying nothing more of it, sure Kurt has noticed the irony too by now, if the role of his eyes in the next moment is anything to go by.
"You know though, Nick, Jeff, Wes and David, probably Trent too, at least, are going to tell us it is not a costume, but simply time-travel!"
"I know," Kurt says, wide smile on his face, "I kind of hope they are right, too. And there is no one I would rather go time travelling with."
"Oh, no question," Blaine adds, positively beaming.
A/N: So I need to tell you guys a story, something that happened this week at college. There was this girl giving a presentation in one of my classes, and we where somehow talking about Cinderella (it was a didactics of literature seminar) and then she says "I mean, not a lot of boys will identify with Cinderella. Hopefully." And that 'Hopefully' just was in a tone so proud of her own ignorance, it made me feel so effin sick. I wanted to throw up, on her, preferably, just to make a point, and punch that ignorant stupid edvfgweztfvARGH so badly. Instead I had to settle for glaring at her for the next hour and trying to make her slip up in her presentation by asking questions. Being ignorant is one thing, but being proud of it, something about that upsets me so much more. Do you guys think I overreacted? It would mean a lot to hear from you. How would you have reacted? Did you ever witness something similar. It just really really hurt me, and made me even more so sad, then angry. A person like that studying to be a teacher. Brilliant *huffs with heavy sarcasm*
Also, would you like me to continue and write the Warblers' Halloween Party? I am kind of in the mood lately for season coloured stories. Please let me know if you would like to read it.