i have a problem
There’s just something about weddings - the theatricality, the promises, the romance of it all - that makes something break within Kurt and has him pushing Blaine up against the wall outside the choir room when Blaine’s fingers brush softly against his back and he asks him to talk in private. Blaine’s lips feel impossibly more perfect against his than they did at Valentine’s Day, as his fingertips sneak up beneath the hem of his shirt, pushing it up to press his thumbs into the tempting dips of Blaine’s hipbones.
Pulling back momentarily, eyes heavy-lidded with lust, Kurt looks down to see the contrast of his pale skin against the olive of Blaine’s, and glimpses something dark next to his thumb. He curls his fingers into Blaine’s shirt and yanks it up to get a closer look, seeing the dandelion with its puff of seeds creeping up from below the waistband of his pants, the seeds on their parachutes metamorphosing into birds flying up towards Blaine’s ribs.
“Tina’s eighteenth,” Blaine explains softly, carding his fingers through Kurt’s hair. “We all got one, her, me, Sam, Brittany and Artie. Tina got this too shall come to pass on her ankle; Brittany got you made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter on the back of her shoulder, but wouldn’t tell anyone why; Sam got a tramp stamp, because we dared him and called him chicken until he backed down, his mom nearly killed him; Artie got a lily on the inside of his wrist, they’re his mom’s favourite flower; and I got the dandelion clock and the blackbirds. It’s granting my wish.”
“What did you wish for?” Kurt asks softly, fitting his palm warm and broad over the tattoo and leaning in to slide the tip of his nose along the length of Blaine’s.
“I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true,” Blaine says, his bright eyes as he leans in to kiss Kurt again saying more than words ever could.
Here is the thing I can’t stop thinking about with what’s happened here in Minnesota over the course of the past week: the display of support in the Twin Cities was staggering. The level of f*cks not given to those who might be offended by this acknowledgement of equal rights under the law was amazing.
But mostly, mostly. I think about a queer kid, riding in the back of her parents’ car seeing the city lit up like this. Maybe she hasn’t come out yet, maybe she’s been bullied, at home, at school, for being who she is. I can only imagine what seeing this would mean. And then I get teary and proud all over again.
Way to go, Minnesota. Who’s next?