It didn’t happen OFTEN, just two or three times a year, but every once in a while the stars would align for a night like tonight.
On one trip or another through New York City, at some point during their week-long stay, Burt and Carole Hummel-Hudson would want to take their two boys out for dinner. Just the immediate family, to have a little bit of time all to themselves. To catch up on old stories, and make new memories even with the boys in their mid-20s of their very sweet family dinner tradition. But the first time it happened, plans excluding the significant others? Rachel had been a little HURT by it. She thought she was family… or as close as one could be without actually being married. She and Finn were ENGAGED (again) for crying out loud, and had been living together in New York for five years. When was she going to be good enough to qualify for this dinner? And while infinitely more understanding than his female counterpoint, Blaine hadn’t loved the (most likely UNINTENDED) snub either. Knowing neither one of them had been invited to the Italian restaurant for the night, they’d glumly agreed to order takeout and watch movies together to cheer themselves up.
That was the night they’d realized they could turn this negative into a positive.
{text ✦ blaine anderson} finn’s leaving in fifteen minutes.bring rosé.
“Go, go, go. You’re going to be late! Can’t keep Burt and Carol WAITING, after they’ve gone through all this trouble to make the reservation…” Rachel pressed, all but SHOVING Finn out of the apartment in her haste to get her own night started. He’d glanced over his shoulder in a cross between confusion and (dare she say it) disappointment, but heeded her advice anyways. With a kiss to her forehead and a promise to be home in a few hours, he was gone. Giving Rachel JUST ENOUGH TIME to change into her favorite pajamas, pull together all their favorite bowls of snacks, and produce her own bottle of chilled pink wine she’d hidden from Finn behind a carton of almond milk.
Rachel swung open the door with an excited SQUEAL, careful not to crunch the wine in Blaine’s arms as she pulled him in for a tight hug. “Oh my GOSH, I have been looking forward to this all week. I think Finn was actually a little mad that I didn’t even ask to go to dinner. Oooh, nice bottle choice. Let me get this on ice RIGHT AWAY.” she gushed, already headed back into the kitchen to stick Blaine’s contribution to tonight into the fridge and pour them both a drink. With a glass of wine WAY MORE FULL than they’d ever be given at a restaurant, Rachel lifted hers in a mocking toast.
“To us.”
Thinking about this whole secretive dinner that Finn, Kurt, Burt and Carole were having on Valentine’s Day meant something was up. Sure, he might’ve gotten that impression after Kurt started acting more and more strange as it got closer to the time for them to leave. Like he was hiding a secret. You know? That Kurt look!
Where he gets a little too red in the cheeks if he meets your eyes. Which he barely can without a slight upward twitch of his lips. Or the stuttering reply of ‘O-Oh no, I’m fine!’ that gets higher and higher in pitch the second time you ask if and circle back with an are you sure that’ll just get him tongue tied enough that you know he’s wishing you’d shut up and go away? THAT was always a dead giveaway! Blaine’s triumphant sleuthing would be brought up later. Because when Kurt and Burt were up to something and you tossed Carole and Finn into the mix? It was bound to be good.
Humming as he texted Rachel back letting her know he was almost there, Blaine stopped by his favorite wine shop to pick up a special occasion bottle and made a pit stop at the corner store for strawberries. …And chocolate ones, too. Both couldn’t hurt. Spoiling his best friend was part of his whole Valentine’s shebang that kept getting worse every year. There was no shame about it either. Like. Ever. Not in Blaine Anderson’s book.
Out of the elevator with a lightness to his steps that borderlined on needing a song by Julie Andrews to do it justice, his reusable bags were gathered into one hand and the bottle of wine was readied to hand over as soon as the door opened. Was she waiting at the door? It swung open so fast–a stunned expression greeted her squeal then crinkled up into a smile so bright it might’ve just given the fluorescent lights inside the hallway a run for their money.
“Hey, Rach!” Full arms returned the hug as best as they could. Then he watched her dart off with his bottle in hand, relieved that she liked the choice. “Great! Hey! About that?” He sat the bags on the table and took the more-than-abundant supply of wine she was served up with a grateful nod and a crooked grin. “This is why you’ll never be a bartender,” he muttered under his breath but perked up at her toast and gave her a bow of his head. “To us!”
“So.. I might’ve brought us something a little extra and you…er. Close your eyes, please?”
pianokeysandbowties 