Goliath, a Glee one-shot

I do not own Glee. Reviews and requests are open for submission.

A tongue slides across his cheek. At first, he thinks it's some kinky code for good morning from his husband.

Then he hears his deep breathing next to him.

Opening his eyes, he should have known better. "Goliath?"

The Maltese Shih Tzu barks hello, wagging his tail. Licking Kurt's face, he jumps off and runs toward the kitchen.

He slips out of the covers, grabbing for his robe. He follows him out of the room.

"Quiet, Daddy Blaine is still sleeping." He pours a bowl of kibble for him.

"Daddy Blaine is fully awake." His arms wrap around Kurt's waist, kissing the back of his neck hello.

Humph. No kinky tongue.

He'll have to bring it up to him later.

"Did we wake you?" The water bowl gets filled.

"It's okay. We have to get ready for our auditions this morning anyway." Taking the bowl from his hands, he sets it in front of Goliath. It gets lapped up.

"That's this morning? I've been so busy, I forgot to practice my audition number." He runs a hand through his bedhead.

Blaine grins. "Judging by last night, you'll definitely be able to hit that high note."

His hand casually glides across his back as he passes behind him with the eggs.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

(the page breaks here)

Dog hair is not a fashion statement.

He loves Goliath dearly, all six pounds of him, but he has bedecked all of his clothes with little white hairs. He takes him for his regular grooming appointments, and this is how he repays him.

"Tape me?" he asks Blaine, holding the roll out to him. This has become custom.

Tearing off a strip, his hand tumbles down Kurt's back, pulling the dog hair with it. "Remind me next time we're at the store to buy more tape."

He nods.

As the hand works its way down his back, he aches for a massage. They've been sharing a bed with their dog. For such a small guy, he needs a big portion of the bed.

And just to make things difficult, he's chosen right between the two of them as his spot. He can't even spoon with his own husband.

"I don't get it. He's bred specifically not to shed."

"The shelter never confirmed that." He rolls over Kurt's butt twice, because he can.

"We should have gotten a cat."

(the page breaks here)

He hates these times.

These times where he has to brush Goliath's teeth, and all the dog wants to do is play fetch with the toothbrush.

"Sit still for Papa sweetie." Blaine rubs the dog's back.

"Why don't you brush his teeth? He sits still for you." Kurt grabs a hold of his head, tilting it back. He manages to brush one side.

"You're doing fine," he reassures him.

Switching sides, he quickly scrubs at the rest of his teeth. Now at least he'll have fresh breath.

He sets the toothbrush down. From behind him, he grabs a toy.

"You want Miss Froggy?" He waves the toy in the air. Goliath leaps up excitedly.

Kurt throws the toy across the room. The dog jumps off the couch and runs into the table.

A cat would never have run into the table.

(the page breaks here)

Clickety click. Clickety clickety click.

"I think it's time that we cut his nails," Kurt suggests, looking up from their magazine.

"I'll go get the clippers." He pushes off of him. The magazine gets set on the coffee table.

Catching the dog, he lifts him up into his arms. "You are not going to be a happy camper when you find out what time it is."

Goliath blinks. He doesn't understand a word he's saying.

He does, however, understand what's happening when Blaine grabs for his paw.

It gets kissed. The toes spread out, and he clips at the nails. At the next foot, the process begins all over again.

"You're being such a good dog," he coos. Goliath turns to look at Kurt for confirmation.

"Daddy's right. You are being a good dog." The dog smiles smugly.

"Do you think you could flip him so I can get the other side?" He does so, and Blaine kisses the third paw.

When they finish, he tosses Miss Froggy across the floor. Goliath chases after it. No clickety click.

He goes to kiss Kurt, who backs away.

"Nuh-uh. You're been kissing doggy feet."

Picking the magazine back up, he feels a pair of lips on his cheek.

Blaine sheepishly smiles, throwing the frog again. He just couldn't help himself.

(the page breaks here)

Like a toddler, Goliath gets this look on his face whenever he has to go to the bathroom.

Kurt's sure that if he could cross his little doggy legs he would.

"I'll take him," Kurt says, grabbing the leash. Checking out the window, he grabs an umbrella too.

"Thank you." He turns the heat up on the stove.

Five minutes later, his husband returns, soaking wet. He retrieves a towel from the linen closet.

Goliath leaves muddy paw prints on the floor.

"The Wind took my umbrella."

"It doesn't look windy out there." He catches the dog before he can get his muddy prints on the couch.

"No, I mean some homeless guy who called himself 'The Wind' came and took my umbrella." He shakes his head, and water flies off.

Their dog attempts the same, only to roll out of Blaine's arms to the floor.

"Hey, come back here!" he calls after him, glancing at the boiling pot on the stove.

Goliath hops up onto the couch.

If they had a litter trained cat, this would have never happened.

Kurt's going to keep that comment to himself.

(the page breaks here)

The sun is shining, so they take Goliath for a walk.

"Aww, what a cute doggy you have. What's his name?" A tall blonde chomping on bubble gum leans down to look at him. If one spec of that gum gets in his coat, somebody is going to get smacked.

That somebody being the girl.

"His name is Goliath," Blaine answers, watching her wearily as she pets his head.

"But he's a small dog," she says, like they haven't noticed.

"It was meant to be ironic." Kurt tightens his grip on the leash.

Goliath sneezes in the girl's face. She flinches, backing away. "Bless you."

Her phone buzzes. She walks away, jabbering a mile a minute. Her bubble gum snaps between words, and Kurt's just glad that she's gone. He's gotten used to girls gushing over their dog, but he's was really paranoid about the gum. That would have been a mess.

He spots a squirrel, and wags his tail. Kurt tugs on the leash.

"Come on. You don't want to miss your girlfriend at the park, now do you?" he asks, dragging the dog along.

"I think he'd rather chase the squirrel," Blaine says. He picks Goliath off the ground and cradles him like a little baby.

This would have never happened with a cat.

(the page breaks here)

All of his silent moping has finally culminated.

Seven months since leaving that animal shelter, where he fought long and hard for a kitten, a war which he ultimately lost, he comes home to find a fat cat sitting on his bed.

"Why hello there." He scratches her between the ears. There's this white spot, a lot dot, like an x marking where he needs to scratch. The cat purrs contentedly.

"I see you've met Thumbelina."

Why does this not surprise him?

"You got me a cat." She crawls onto his lap. Immediately he feels the weight of her on his lap.

"Goliath could use a playmate." The dog walks into the room and spots the cat.

He leaps up onto the bed, crawling over to Kurt. "He's half her size."

Blaine sits on the bed, pulling the dog into his lap.

The animals look each other in the eye. She's bored, while he looks enthralled. He jumps off.

"Where's he going?"

"I don't know." Goliath pounces back onto Blaine's lap, bringing Miss Froggy with him. With his nose he pushes it towards her.

She places her paw on top of it.

"They're sharing," he grins, rubbing the dog in his lap.

"As long as they share the bed too."

"Just wait until we have a child." His face drops as he realizes what he said.

"You want a child?"

Thumbelina swats at Goliath's nose.

"Someday." They need to get these two under control first. Not that he's in any rush.

They have all the time in the world.