I, David, am writing to provide you with

"David? What're you writing? Please tell me that's not homework I haven't done."

"Alright. This isn't homework that you haven't done."Wes stares at me, trying to get past my poker face. Then he lunges forward to try to grab the sheet of paper, but I snatch it out of his reach.

"David! We always tell each other everything! Why aren't you sharing? I'll tell Blaine!" He pauses, and then shakes his head. "Okay, maybe I won't tell Blaine. But still..." Still holding the paper protectively to my chest, I look at Wes out of the corner of my eyes.

"Alright. You may look. But only if you promise to contribute." He nods dubiously, so I wave the paper under his nose. With crossed eyes, he eventually manages to read what I've written.

"Provide the world with what, David? And you sound like you're writing to someone. Is this your will? Have you finally gone crazy?" Gone crazy? I've always been at Crazy. I never left Sane to go to Crazy.

"I am writing to Kurt and Blaine's future children, to provide them with the true story of how their parents got together. Because, let's face it, neither Blaine nor Kurt are going to tell them. So," I gesture to the sheet, crossing out the first line haphazardly, "you going to help? Because, as amazing as I am, I'm just one man. I don't think I can capture the essence that is Kurt and Blaine."

"'Klaine'." Wes says suddenly. Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he goes on to explain. "Like 'Brangelina'."

"Why not 'Blurt', then?"

"Because that just sounds stupid. Now, what exactly are we doing here?" I start writing on the page,

We, David and

"Write your name."

"Why do you get to do the majority of the writing? And why's your name first? I'm older."

"It was my idea, so I get to do the writing. Plus being older doesn't mean anything – except that you'll become middle aged first."

"By a few months!"

"Exactly," I say smugly. "So you admit that it doesn't matter that you're older than me?" Growling at me, he snatches the pen and scrawls


in the space. Nodding, I take back the pen and carry on writing.

are writing to provide you with an accurate account of how Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel finally managed to get together.

But not too accurate. There're some things you just don't need to know.

Yes, thank you, Wes; let's try to keep the innuendo to a minimum. We don't know how strict these two will be as parents. They might not even allow references to sex in their house. We might have just corrupted their fragile little minds.

Please, with Blaine and Kurt as parents? Any children they adopt are going to end up so informed about sex that they might as well become politicians.

Ha-ha, I like that. May try to drop that into conversation. Unfortunately, however, they'll either end up like Blaine, who gets angry when we so much as try to talk during 'Homework Hour', or Kurt, who shouts whenever we try to put salad dressing on his salad. Things aren't looking good for the future spawn.

...Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, the truth. Well, we'll start right from the beginning.

Not that beginning, you pervs.

Wes, I'm sure they hadn't even thought of those beginnings until you brought it up. I'm regretting allowing your input in this.

Here to help.

Now, first, we'll provide you midgets with the lowdown as to who we are. We're your uncles, David and I can write my own name, thank you. Wes.

What if we don't end up as their uncles?

I'm sure we will. Even if we have to hire a private investigator to track down Blaine and Kurt when they inevitably try to run away to avoid u, and then stalk them until they eventually admit to their children that the two blokes following them around are actually their best friends from school.

I feel I should provide you with a brief explanation of who I am. I, David, am quite possibly the most incredible person you'll ever have the fortune to meet.

Jeez, big headed, much? Although I'm awesome too, I must admit.

...David, you do realise we haven't actually explained anything about their parents to them yet?

Yeah, I know. Wait, I have a brilliant plan!

Is it as brilliant as the time you made Blaine wear a skirt?

Why, yes, actually. That was a brilliant plan, you have to admit it.

No, it wasn't. It mentally scarred me.

Shut up. No, my brilliant plan is that we stop sharing the pen – no, Wes, don't try to steal the pen! – What I mean is, I write for a while, and then you chip in.

Chip in? I thought you wanted my help!

I do! But when we share the pen, we keep getting into arguments, and so far all these poor children know is that their parents did get together at some point, and that we argue like a married couple.

True. Ok, we share. You write about one thing, I write about another. Chip in when we feel it's absolutely necessary.

...Fine. That's a good idea. Why do you always have to be the rational one? Oh, and shotgun the beginning!

What? I wanted that! That's the easiest bit, because all you have to do is write about Blaine becoming a stalker!

Look, as I've got the beginning, you can have the mushy end bit.

I don't want to do that bit!

Look, Wes, we'll just go with the flow, okay? Stop acting like a spoilt brat!


Don't you get all ellipses-y on me!

Fine. Wes is obviously sulking, so I'll begin. It all started, not so long

ten months

ago, just after Kurt first came to Dalton. Blaine, bless him, got a little bit excited...