Pictures of Sunsets through Shattered Mirrors by Bing Wright
do you ever cry because a black haired little boy wandered into your life when you were a kid and made you believe in magic and now many years later he’s still there with you and you just know you will stay at his side always no matter what because he’s just so important
I sat here thinking “That’s a highly specific personal experience for 43k people to relate to” for way too long before figuring out what this post was about
Summary: Anything you can do, I can do better. OR the one where Kurt and Blaine realize they can see the couple across the alley having sex. Which leads to sex. And shennanigans.
“Blaine,” Kurt calls. He hears the clink of Blaine setting dishes in the sink and the hushed start of water. “Blaine.” Louder and more insistent. The water shuts off.
“What? Kurt I’m about—”
“Come here,” Kurt hisses. He knows he can’t be overheard through two sets of windows, but his behavior is less than decorous and that seems to warrant some modicum of discretion.
“What?” Blaine rounds the corner into the bedroom.
“I told you he was gay,” Kurt says, turning toward him, face arranged in a well practiced look of smug superiority. He loves winning.
“How do you know— oh!” Blaine ducks behind the window treatment on the other side of the window.