Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

"Blaine, sugar lamb, your piano teacher's here," Anna called.

Blaine scowled. He hated playing the piano. He didn't mind the singing lessons, and he was super glad that his parents signed him up for soccer, but he despised the piano.

"Do I have to, Mama?" he groused, even though he already knew the answer.

"Come downstairs, doll baby, don't keep Miss Mollie waiting," Anna said.

He made his way slowly down the stairs, scooting down each step on his bottom. His mother stood at the foot of the polished staircase, smiling as she tapped her manicured fingernails on the banister. "Come on," she said, holding out her hand.

Blaine followed his mother reluctantly into the living room. He liked his piano teacher all right- Miss Mollie was sweet and pretty and always told funny stories- but he just hated the lessons. Especially since Francey was better and always teased him about it.

Miss Mollie stood by the piano, her sundress swishing around her legs as she pulled out her sheet music. "I hope you don't mind, Anna, but I had to bring Kurt with me today," she said. "Usually I let him stay at the garage with his daddy, but Burt had to make a run out to Columbus."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Anna said. She gave Blaine a little push towards the piano. "Go on, have your lesson. I'll bring in Francey when you're done."

Blaine surveyed the piano, rubbing the top of one foot against his ankle. Miss Mollie smiled at him. "Sit down, sweetheart," she said. "Blaine, this is my son, Kurt. Kurt, this is Blaine. He's one of my favorite students."

A little boy, his age or maybe a little younger, perched on the couch, his short legs swinging back and forth as he flipped through the pages of a coloring book. "Hello, Blaine," he said in a sweet little voice.

"Hi," Blaine said, suddenly shy.

Miss Mollie patted the piano bench. "Pop on up," she said.

Blaine obeyed, sitting down beside her and wiggling his short chubby fingers. Miss Mollie guided him patiently through his scales, keeping one hand on the small of his back to keep him sitting up straight. Miss Mollie's little boy sat by quietly, busily coloring.

It wasn't until she had him start practicing his new piece that things started to go a little awry. It was a two-hand piece, and so far he wasn't very good at it. Sometime he struck a particularly bad note, and Kurt would giggle until Miss Mollie sent him a chastising look.

He finished his piece again and sighed, his shoulders slumping. Miss Mollie ruffled his curls. "A little frustrated, are we, honey?" he said.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Let's try this," Miss Mollie said. She crooked her finger at Kurt. "KK, honey, come here."

Kurt put his coloring book aside and slid off the couch. "What, Mommy?" he asked.

"You know the piece I taught you? The one you play with me?" she said.

He brightened. "Uh-huh!" he said, climbing onto his mother's lap.

"I want you to play it with Blaine," she said. "Now, Blaine, honey, you're going to be the heart. You're just going to play this same progression, over and over." She demonstrated the notes. "See? Just like that." She adjusted Kurt on her knees. "And Kurt's going to be the soul. Now, Blaine, you start."

He played the notes carefully, Miss Mollie occasionally placing her hand over his to guide him. Kurt played his part easily, his tiny slender fingers tripping over the keys. As he settled into the rhythm, it got easier. He looked up at Kurt and grinned; Kurt smiled shyly back.

"Very good!" Miss Mollie praised. "Very good, Blaine. What a good job." She squeezed his shoulder. "Go on and pick a treasure."

He scrambled off the piano bench and dug into the special treat bag that Miss Mollie always carried, finally settling on a bright orange superball as his reward. "Should I get Francey now?" he said.

"Go ahead," Miss Mollie said. "And maybe you could take Kurt to play with you?"

Kurt looked up, suddenly hopeful. Blaine scratched the back of his neck. "Do you like Power Rangers?" he asked.

Kurt's blue eyes brightened further. "I love Power Rangers!" he said.

Blaine held out his hand. "We can go play in my room!" he said. Kurt slid off his mother's lap and grabbed his hand, his fingers small and warm in his, and they ran up the stairs.

Author's Notes:

PARDON ME, I JUST DON'T REMEMBER WRITING THIS AND I'M DYING A LITTLE FROM THE CUTE.

Ahem. Anyways.

Precious, precious little boys.

I'm so glad I've finally settled on how to write Blaine's parents. I love Anna. She's a sweet, itty-bitty blonde from Louisiana with a super thick accent, and she raised Blaine to be the perfect southern gentleman. Raising Francey to be another little southern belle did not go nearly so well...

Oh, and for polleygirl92: Lucy Trevelyan and Francey Anderson are two of my original characters. I wrote these drabbles for Tumblr prompts, so most of the people who read these originally were familiar with Lucy and Francey. If you want to get to know them, I guess you can read Awesome and Delicious, This Time At Dalton for Lucy and Shorn for Francey.

And if you have any prompts, leave them in my tumblr askbox! My name's redbullandcupcakebatter, and I don't bite. :)

I hope you liked this!