A/N: I just - words cannot possibly express how deeply sorry I am for the insane time gap in between updates on this story (apparently I last updated over 11 months ago, oh my god). I had abandoned it for a multitude of reasons, but the combined forces of a reignited readership in this story and the guilt of incompletion I had hanging over my head worked together to inspire me to finish it, only a year too late.
There will be another chapter that is already written that I will post in all likelihood tonight but at the latest tomorrow. After that, there will be either an epilogue or one more chapter and an additional epilogue - I keep going back and forth between whether or not the story is better with the inclusion of the chapter. After that, this will be finished.
I do want to thank those of you who have read this from the very, very bottom of my heart, especially my lovely tumblr anon(s?) whose encouragement and kindness definitely helped me push through, as well as all of you who have read and reviewed and favorited this story here. Your time and encouragement has meant the world to me, and I thank you so very, very much.
Without further ado, my friends, I hope you enjoy.
"A basketball game."
The laugh on the other end of the phone was enough to put a grin on Kurt's previously skeptical face as he strolled away from his castmates in the hallway, hoping to get a little privacy before the rehearsal began. "Yes, Mr. Grumpy-Pants," Blaine giggled on the other end, "a basketball game. It's short, because they're in second grade, but let me tell you, they can get vicious."
"Well, with your daughter on the team I don't doubt that," Kurt answered. "She's a competitive little thing. You were never like that."
"Must be all that time she's spending with you," Blaine countered good-naturedly. "I mean, you should have seen the bitchface she gave me this morning when I asked if she'd made her bed. You're a corrupting influence, Kurt Hummel."
He had a point. In the month since they'd started dating – officially dating – Kurt and Elizabeth had been inseparable. Kurt picked her up from dance class when he got out of rehearsal and took her out for dinner (even though Blaine scolded him for spending all that food money when his pantry was fully stocked, thank you) and sometimes shopping (even though Blaine scolded him for spoiling his child rotten). They spent hours chatting away while they went out and about – Kurt teaching her which designers were perfect and which were tacky, Elizabeth opening a discussion of Andrew Lloyd Webber versus Stephen Sondheim which left Kurt delighted with the girl's intelligence and obvious good taste.
His relationship with her was in no way paternal, but he grinned every time she responded to her father with an obvious Kurt-influenced retort.
The doors to the rehearsal room were opened, and the other cast members started to gather their belongings. "I've got to go warm up. Count me in for Saturday – but be warned, I'm holding you personally responsible if this basketball game does not live up to the level of drama you claim. There best be catfights on the court, mister."
His laugh rang again, that sweet, melodic laugh that was tinged with the hint of a blush. "It's a date."
Kurt Hummel had dabbled in sports in his life – the month or so on the football team, the stint in Cheerios – but nothing could have quite prepared him for the circus of an elementary school basketball game.
Lizzie and her teammates were the Athenians, their mascot an anthropomorphic book with eyes and a smile on their pale blue jerseys. "Interesting theme for a sports team," Kurt commented as he and Blaine climbed into the bleachers, careful not to spill the nachos and sodas Blaine insisted on getting (apparently it was part of the experience).
Blaine smiled, waving at Lizzie on the floor. "I liked it," he said, dipping a chip in cheese sauce so orange it could not possibly even resemble natural. "When I was looking at schools for Lizzie, I liked Prather because they have such an emphasis on the classics even from a young age – and besides, who's a better role model than Athena? She's the goddess of knowledge, Kurt, and she's a total badass."
"Blaine?" a female voice from behind them asked. They turned around and saw a friendly-looking man and woman about their age who both beamed at Blaine.
"Hey guys!" Blaine replied, enthusiastic as ever. "Sorry I didn't notice you when we sat down, I promise I wasn't trying to ignore you."
"Who's your friend, sweetheart?" the woman asked, peering at Kurt with barely-disguised glee.
Kurt watched the deep pink that set into Blaine's olive face. "God, sorry, Kurt Hummel, Matt and Cindy York. Matt and Cindy, Kurt."
Kurt took Cindy's then Matt's hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you both."
"Matt and Cindy are Jessica's parents – Lizzie told you about her friend Jessica, right?"
"She's number 16," Matt added proudly, pointing out a tall girl with strawberry blond hair that matched her mother's who seemed far more interested in finishing out her conversation with Lizzie than warming up with the team.
"Speaking of, Blaine, I'm glad we caught you. You and Elizabeth will still be able to come to Jessica's party on the nineteenth, right?"
"Absolutely." Kurt couldn't help marveling at the way Blaine seemed so natural in this atmosphere, chatting with people he probably met at a PTA meeting, friends by proxy due to their daughter's friendship. He knew that Blaine was a grown man and that he had a daughter, but it was strange to see him as a parent, someone who helped plan birthday parties and sat at basketball games. It was an odd, sensible detail, but it made him glance over at Blaine with newly-appreciative tenderness.
"Of course," Cindy was saying, a faux-innocent smile on her pretty face, "you'd be more than welcome to tag along if you're free, Kurt. Any friend of Blaine's is a friend of ours."
The blush in Blaine's cheeks had turned a deep maroon as he stood up quickly, ducking his head in that giddy, embarrassed way Kurt recognized from high school. "I'm going to grab some napkins," he announced. "Anybody need anything?"
"No thanks, doll!" Cindy answered, watching him amble down the bleachers before turning to Kurt, her dimples flashing. "I don't know who you are or if you're dating Blaine or how long you've known each other, Mr. Hummel, but that man is a catch and if you don't snap him up as soon as possible then you are missing out because Blaine Anderson is the best – "
"Oh my god, Cindy, don't harass him," Matt laughed, shooting an apologetic grin in Kurt's direction. "You've got to understand, Blaine is the sweetest person alive and we've never seen him bring a date to anything before. There's a whole group in our PTA that tries to set him up, but he always politely refuses."
"And you're just beautiful," Cindy continued, surveying him. "It's no wonder he wouldn't take our dates when he has somebody like you lined up…"
Blaine slid in as Kurt had to stifle a laugh at their exuberance over their potential relationship. "You guys weren't talking about me, were you?" he grinned cheekily.
"Always am!" Cindy said brightly, and the harsh ring of the buzzer prevented further conversation.
In children's sporting events, Kurt observed, parents seemed to fall into certain behavioral patterns. Matt, behind them, was the backseat coaching parent – he yelled out instructions to his daughter the whole game; in fact, he seemed to think she was the only one playing, that she should hog the ball the whole game. Cindy, on the other hand, was the scary, aggressive parent – she was not afraid to scream at the other team for their slights against her baby's team ("God, were you all raised in a barn?" she shrieked after a particularly brutal foul in the first quarter), and there were a few times when Kurt was afraid she might jump over him and attack the tall center on the other team.
Blaine, of course, was just as he always was – kind, supportive, patient. He knew the name of every single one of Lizzie's teammates and called out gentle encouragements to them all equally ("good shot, Anna, you'll make it next time!"). He clapped amiably when the other team scored points, gaining glares from formerly sweet Cindy. Every time Lizzie went to shoot the ball, though, he fell silent and softly grabbed Kurt's hand, holding it for support as he failed to breathe until the ball had left his daughter's hands.
Lizzie, it seemed, was a great little player. She had the disadvantage of being the shortest one not only on her team but on the court, period, but she made up for it in speed, slipping deftly through the crowds attempting to block her as she scored point after point.
"Oh my god, Blaine," Kurt whispered, leaning over in the middle of the second quarter, "you didn't tell me your daughter was the superstar of the team!"
Blaine just beamed, his eyes glowing with pride as he looked back to the court. "Great form, Steph!" he called to the chunky brunette who seemed despondent at her missed shot. "Don't give up!"
Kurt just looked at him for a moment and knew, somehow, that this was something he could do. That somehow, this was always where he belonged, at Blaine's side. Blaine and Lizzie would be on the front row for opening night of Oklahoma! – of all his shows in the future. Kurt would throw Blaine a party when he became a tenured professor, glamorous and elegant – no, quaint and refined, the way Blaine would like it. They'd take turns picking Lizzie up from dance class and basketball practice, sit together at recitals and games and cheer her on. They would take their worlds and synthesize, make a life that would be theirs – favorite restaurants and bars and cafes and shops, together. Blaine would show up outside of rehearsals and Kurt would sneak into class and they would stay just as madly in love as they always had been. Lizzie would come to love Kurt – not as a father, maybe, but maybe something close.
His epiphany was interrupted by a collective gasp from the crowd. He whipped his head toward the court, seeing Elizabeth falling to the ground as a tall, aggressive player from the opposite team flew past her. Blaine was clutching his hand, his face pale as he craned his neck to see if she was all right. The referee blew his whistle loudly, extending a hand to the small girl and walking her to the bench before he called the foul.
Kurt felt the rage – and worry – boil up inside him and knew immediately that, given the chance, he definitely fit into the angry, screaming parent category with Cindy.
Elizabeth seemed to be all right, luckily, being sent back into the game shortly and running smoothly as though nothing had happened, continuing to shoot them into a wide victory, met with deafening screams from the parents behind him. As soon as the game was over, Elizabeth and her friend scaled the bleachers quickly to their parents and Kurt.
Lizzie threw her arms around Kurt before even acknowledging her father. "I'm so glad you could come!" she giggled, planting a kiss on his cheek before throwing a quick, "Hey Dad," over her shoulder.
"Me too, darling!" He set her down, tugging the dark curls of her ponytail playfully. "You didn't tell me you were amazing!"
She looked up at him with an eyebrow cocked. "I assumed it was implied," she answered, her imitation of Kurt obvious and perfectly-executed.
Beside them, Blaine was shaking his head, grinning ear to ear. "Well, are my two favorite people wanting dinner?"
Cindy cleared her throat jokingly behind him. "Well, your other three favorite people are getting pizza if you'd all like to join us!"
Blaine's eyes quickly shot to meet Kurt's, questioning. These weren't things they'd talked about yet – if they were ready for double dates, for family gatherings, for being together with other people. They weren't things that, truth be told, Kurt had thought about extensively. With other people came more responsibility, more commitment, more attachments to new parts of the other's life, and it was clear from the look in his eyes that Blaine was terrified still of asking Kurt for more of anything.
Kurt smiled back at him. "Pizza sounds great."