Ficlet: A Sunday Smile (PG)

Blaine is the director of music in a small Connecticut town’s church and loved by everyone. When Kurt opens up a tailor shop in that town at the beginning of February, the town’s people try everything in their might to have them meet.

Kurt doesn’t think it’s suspicious when there are half a dozen of kids’ noses smushed against the window of his store window. He expects them to come and investigate, see what the newly opened shop is all about. They stare, wide-eyed, at the assortment of every shade of yarn imaginable, waves of silk flowing like rivers, and some of his more whimsical hats and scarves. They wave at him when they notice him looking at them, all toothy smiles, before they turn and run away chatting animatedly.

Kurt also doesn’t suspect anything, when Mrs. Chang, the old woman owning the grocery store next door, carefully drops in a question or two about a spouse or a partner. Kurt tells her with a smile that, no, unfortunately, he just hasn’t met the right guy yet. She invites him over for dinner one of these days, adding in an aside that maybe her grandson’s good friend B might have time, too.

He is trying not to think anything of it when there are at least ten people over the course of the next three days asking if he’s been to church yet and that he really should go. He finally accepts Quinn Fabray’s invitation, the elementary school teacher, who has him designing two dresses for her and who tells him that it might be good advertisement for his store if he shows up and meets more people that way. He agrees to come, and ignores her triumphant grin.

Kurt is, however, a little disturbed when he has barely climbed the five stairs leading up into the church’s cloak room, and all eyes are instantly on him, kids running like chicken to somewhere he doesn’t even know and Mrs Chang dragging him at once into the sanctuary and leaving him aloe with the excuse of having to make some more coffee.

It’s warmer than he expected it to be — wooden benches, a hardwood floor, and the sun streaming through the windows. He spots Quinn talking with a guy right next to where the band is running through a song. The guy — gelled hair, fitted dress pants, white button-down and a nice dark grey cardigan— looks at him, then back at Quinn, and is shaking his head. But before Kurt knows what’s happening, Quinn not-so gently pushes him in his direction.

The guy walks up to him, smiling hesitantly and raising his hands apologetically. “I’m so so so sorry, you have to believe me. I didn’t tell them to heckle you. I tried everything to make them stop—” he pauses, draws a breath and extends his hand in greeting. “Hi, my name is Blaine and my friends don’t know how to keep their noses out of my life.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows and when he doesn’t take the offered hand, Blaine lets it drop with a sigh, his visibly face falling a little. “Yeah, I would be wary too, if I were you. Uhm, you see, they’ve set their minds on finding a, uh, new love interest for me? So as soon as you had set up shop, they wouldn’t shut up about you and — I’m sorry, Mr Hummel, they sometimes just assume things. I promise this town isn’t always that crazy. They’ll probably let it go now that we’ve met. I mean-” A tiny girl bumps into his side then and Blaine doesn’t get to finish.

“Mr B!” she rushes out, panting, “the card! The card you wanted to give Mr Hummel! You forgot the card in Sunday school!” She thrusts a pink Valentine’s Day card into Kurt’s hands and he chuckles when he sees what’s been obviously written in a child’s handwriting, big colorful letters, glued on glitter hearts. “So,” the girl continues, “will you go out with Mr B? He’s the nicest! He has lots of pretty bow ties!”

“Really?” Kurt smiles and tries to catch Blaine’s eyes. “Maybe we should go out for lunch, Mr B. What do you think?”

“It’d be an honor, Mr Hummel,” Blaine smiles, and, oh, those eyes.

“It’s Kurt,” he breathes, licking his lips that feel very dry all of a sudden.

“Well, Kurt, we should talk about that after church. Will you stay for coffee and cake?”

“I will.”

“Good.” Blaine smiles at him once more before he runs back to the band and finishes their rehearsal.

Maybe moving to small-town Connecticut wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


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