this love is ours
Title: this love is ours
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Kurt/Blaine. A few others appear.
Spoiler(s): General spoilers for S3 and a character who hasn't appeared on the show yet.
Note: Title and cut stolen shamelessly and unironically from Taylor Swift’s Ours.
Summary: Call it destiny or dumb luck or whatever you want: Kurt and Blaine are made for each other. Collection of everything I've written for Klaine Week 2012.
growing up beside you (or the time Kurt and Blaine met as kids)
Blaine was excited as Mommy unstrapped him from his car seat. Tonight, he got to go with her and Cooper to the big kid's school for the first time ever.
Blaine was sure that big kid school was the best place in the whole wide world, because his brother was always telling him about what they did during the day and would sometimes even read out loud to Blaine from his books.
Even with Mommy holding one of his hands and Cooper holding the other, he bounced all the way up the sidewalk and into the school.
"Sweetie, I need you to calm down," Mommy said, "You can't jump around like that in school. You could get hurt."
Blaine nodded and stopped jumping, but still felt excited as they walked down the hallways and Cooper showed off the art projects hanging all over.
"This one is from music class!" he said excitedly, lifting Blaine up so he could see better, "It's me and you on the Yellow Submarine."
"Like the song, Coop?"
"Just like the song, buddy."
After oohing over the picture for a little while longer, the brothers hurried over to where Mommy was talking to another grown-up. Puffing up his chest, Cooper said, "That's Mrs. Hummel. Her fourth grade class is the best. She tells us that all the time."
Blaine couldn't really believe how cool his big brother was sometimes. Being in fourth grade was exciting enough, but being in the best fourth grade class? That was super duper cool. He let Cooper half-lead, half-drag him over to the grown ups, suddenly feeling shy.
"Who do we have here, Cooper?" Mrs. Hummel said, leaning down and smiling wide.
She smells a little like flowers and Blaine hides his face in his brother's side. Cooper tries to shake him loose, explaining. "This is my little brother, Blaine. He came to conferences because Dad works tonight."
"It's nice to meet you, Blaine. Cooper talks about you all the time."
She offered him her hand and, shyly, Blaine reached out to shake. It made him feel grown up and a little less afraid. Standing up again, Mrs. Hummel turned to Mommy.
"My husband had to drop off our son this afternoon. I'm sure that Kurt would love to have a playmate while the three of us talk."
She nodded to the corner of the room, where a little boy was playing with Legos. As Cooper went to get his folder out of his cubby, Mommy lead Blaine over to the table and gave her youngest a small kiss on the head.
"Play nice, okay? I'll be right across the room if you need anything."
Blaine nodded and sat down into the chair across from the other boy. It was high up and, even when he swung his legs, Blaine couldn't reach the floor. After pretending he was a prince on a thrown for a little while, he stared at the other boy. He looked the same age as Blaine, but was dressed in a sweater without sleeves and what Mommy called 'church pants'. Not sure what to do, Blaine stuck out his hand across the table.
"My name is Blaine. I'm five."
The other boy stared at the offered hand for a moment, then shook it. When he talked, his voice was very quiet. "My name is Kurt. I'm five and a half. The half is special."
Blaine nodded, because everyone knew that when you were a half, it was special. He told Kurt this, not letting go of the other boy's hand. It was warm.
"What're you making?"
Kurt's eyes lit up. "A garage for my Barbie car. It's pink."
Blaine had never heard of a boy with a Barbie car before, but he wasn't going to say anything. Maybe the boys at Kurt's daycare all had pink Barbie cars and it was weird that Blaine didn't have one. Instead, he asked if he could help.
"Sure. You gotta let go of my hand though."
And Blaine was a little sad to do that, because it was nice to hold hands with someone whose hands were the same as his. Still, he wanted to help with the garage and Legos were his favorite. They played until Mommy came and said it was time to go. Blaine stuck out his hand for Kurt to shake again.
"Promise we'll play again?" Blaine asked, trying to look at Kurt as seriously as possible. It made him go a little cross-eyed.
Kurt giggled a little, but still shook on it. "Promise. We're gonna be the bestest friends."
i can’t help falling in love with you (or it’s the 1950s and things are only harder)
It's Sadie Hawkins.
It's the biggest dance of the year next to prom and Kurt is in his new suit jacket, Brittany snuggling into his chest as they spin around to the band crooning out a Frank Sinatra song. Brittany's hair smells sweet and over the top of her head, Kurt can see Finn flash him a grin. He's dancing with Quinn, who was on an "extended visit" with her aunt this time last year and missed Sadie Hawkins.
The song ends and Brittany leans up to kiss Kurt's cheek. She's a cheerleader and has the type of sweet smile that always turns him into a sucker. They've been dating ever since Kurt fumbled his way onto the football team (excuse the pun, hardee har har).
"This has been so much fun. It's sad that the band has to take a break," Brittany says, "You should visit your friend. Billy?"
"Blaine," Kurt corrects automatically, "And, yeah, I think I'll do that."
They break apart and Brittany flounces off to a gaggle of her cheerleader friends. The pack of girls all swoon over her corsage as Kurt sneaks away. He finds Blaine outside of the gym, door propped open and an unlit cigarette in hand. Kurt barely keeps his own swooning under control.
"The gig is going well," Kurt says lightly, bumping their shoulders together as he leans against the wall too, "Lend me a smoke?"
Blaine passes him one, ignoring the electric spark that courses through his veins when their finger brush. Nodding in thanks, Kurt pulls a lighter that used to belong to his mom and lights them both up. They shoot the breeze for a bit about The Warblers' performance tonight and how nice Brittany looks in green before Blaine suddenly lets out a desperate, frustrated groan.
"You okay?" Kurt asks, knowing he's not and guessing the reason why.
"I hate that the only way I can go to the same dance as you is if I'm with the goddamn band!" Blaine snaps, anger bubbling just under the surface of his prep school veneer, "And even then, you're getting friendly with your little girlfriend. I want that to be us. I know it's wrong, but I can't help but want it."
Kurt flicks his cigarette and loosely takes a hold of Blaine's hand. It's safe, because if someone else shows up, he can pull away fast, but for now he brushes his thumb over the ridges of Blaine's knuckles. His voice is soft and sad, because this is a conversation they've had about a million times.
"There's nothing wrong with it, baby. But us thinking it isn't gonna change the fact that boys don't take boys to Sadie Hawkins."
Blaine still looks miserable and Kurt is a little scared that he might start bawling, then Kurt will be all water works too. He squeezes Blaine's hand, making him look up. Smiling tightly, Kurt says, "I got a surprise for you, okay? It's not much, but I've wanted to do this ever since we decided to go steady."
He pulls his class ring out of his pocket, where it's sat like a lead weight all night. Kurt's original plan was to wait until after the dance for this, when the two of them ditched Lima for Westerville, where Blaine's parents were out of town. (The Andersons had asked him to stay for the weekend and 'keep Blaine out of trouble'.)
Even if the timing is wrong, the fit is right; Kurt's ring slips onto Blaine's finger like a glove. Blaine gives him this heated look, a grin spreading slowly onto his face. Because it may not mean the two of them can slow dance together, but the ring sure as hell means something. He wants to press Kurt into the brick wall then, until they're both panting with swollen mouths and hickey marked necks.
Except Thad picks that moment to burst out the door and grab Blaine by the shoulder. "Come on, man! Warblers are supposed to be back on now and you're out here with the public school nerds?"
Kurt stays where he is, hating the fact that one of Blaine's closest friends has no clue who he is. He also hates the way Thad says 'public school' like it's a dirty word, like Kurt is something small and ugly just because he doesn't have a fancy new car or go to a school that requires the students to wear uniforms. Vindictively (and ignoring the fact he tends not to swing that way), Kurt thinks, Well, at least we have chicks here.
Blaine mouths the word 'later' as he's pulled away and Kurt waits until he hears the next song start up to slip back to his date.
nothing can stop me from getting to you (or Kurt breaks in to visit Blaine)
So, over the span of their relationship, Kurt has broken into Blaine's house a grand total of once. It was the first time that Kurt came over, when Blaine was in the shower, but told Kurt to let himself in, but had forgotten to unlock the front door.
After fifteen minutes of panicking and Blaine not answering his cell, Kurt had just snuck in through an open window on the first floor. (He never tells Blaine this story, because as he smoothed his outfit back into place after crawling through the window, Kurt recognized how ridiculous the whole thing was.)
Anyway, it's the day after Blaine's surgery and Kurt finds himself breaking into the Andersons' house once again. At lunch, he had called to see how Blaine was feeling, only to learn that his boyfriend was home alone. Kurt had immediately tossed the rest of his lunch and made a bee line for his car.
"Honey, could you open the door for me?" Kurt had asked, clearly remembering Blaine saying he would.
And yet, when he heads to the front door, it's locked tight and Blaine isn't answering his phone. A wave of unsettling déjà vu washes over Kurt as he analyzes his options.
It snowed this morning, meaning that the chances of a window being left open again is slim. Besides, that would mean making footprints in the snow and he really doubts that leaving evidence to the fact that Kurt not only played hooky but visited Blaine when the two of them would be home alone would endear him to Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.
(Never mind the fact that Kurt and Blaine are alone so often in the house that when Blaine's parents are actually home, Kurt and Blaine both forget that they have to be careful about where they keep their hands and mouths, unless they want to sit through another painfully awkward dinner.)
Kurt goes to the garage door, but there's no keypad and, anyway, he'd have no clue of the passcode. He tries Blaine's cell again and there's still no response. A small part of him that's sick of the February wind that's surely drying out his skin and ruining his hair, says to go back to Lima and try to visit Blaine another day.
The rest of Kurt, naturally, is horrified by the very idea. Blaine is stuck at home because he was protecting Kurt. He's missed Michael week and the hot Spanish teacher and is sitting home alone, because he didn't want his boyfriend to get slushied.
It pisses Kurt off. Senior year was supposed to be his; with Blaine at his side and New York so close that he could see the glittering lights whenever he closed his eyes. It wasn't supposed be Blaine having surgery and Kurt hurting every day he's gone, thinking this is how it's going to be all of next year.
Kurt kicks the rock in front of him, only to send it flying. He hurries to put it back, because the whole 'don't leave proof you were here' thing is important. As he picks up the rock, Kurt notices how light it feels and runs his hands over it until he finds the false bottom. A house key falls out and Kurt is thankful that the Andersons are apparently as trusting as their son.
He unlocks the front door and then carefully replaces the key, before hurrying into the house. Kurt leaves his boots on the front mat and padding through Blaine's house in just his socks makes him feeling sneaky. By the time he makes it to Blaine's room, Kurt struggles to ignore the Mission Impossible theme music in his head.
Blaine isn't exactly asleep in bed, but he doesn't acknowledge Kurt right away either. He's focused on his TV, watching a group of grown men attempt to find proof that Bigfoot exists. Something in his heart twists pleasantly, because this is the boy that Kurt is in love with.
"Blaine," Kurt says warmly, sitting in the chair that's set up next to the bed.
Blaine looks at him, a smile stretching across his face, slow and beautiful. He sits up a little straighter in bed and runs a hand through his own hair. It's not gelled and immediately bounces back up in defiance. Kurt laughs a little and leans in to kiss Blaine on the cheek.
"How do you feel?" He asks, smoothing down the edges of Blaine's quilt.
"I might be back to school at the end of the week," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hand, "My parents want me to be done with the meds first. Your skin is so soft."
He presses a kiss to the place where Kurt's wrist and palm meet, mouth warm and dry. Kurt tries not to flush, instead tilting Blaine's chin up to kiss him, soft and quick. Blaine promptly swipes his tongue across Kurt's mouth, then sucks greedily on his boyfriend's lower lip.
Kurt wants to laugh into the kiss, but winds up moaning instead. He slides a hand into the soft curls at the base of Blaine's neck, reveling in the feel of sleep mussed hair. Blaine is the one to pull away, still smiling as he presses a another, softer kiss onto the tip of Kurt's nose.
"I missed you," he says, sounding earnest even if the painkillers make his voice softer, "Are you staying?"
Kurt is tempted to say that with all the trouble he went through to get in, there's no way he's leaving until it's absolutely necessary. Except, even if the door had been unlocked and Blaine wasn't hazy from the medication and post-op, Kurt would still want to steal away every moment that he could before New York happens.
So, Kurt drops his voice into what he hopes sounds sexy and says, "I'll stay as long as you make room in that bed."
The attempted seduction sails clear over Blaine's head. He nods enthusiastically, pulling back the quilt and patting the spot next to him. And Kurt doesn't even care about how undignified he must look, crawling from the chair to the bed in jeans that are too tight for such activities. He also doesn't care about how high Blaine probably is right now. (If the excited yaaaaay he let out when Kurt curled a hand around his hip is anything to go by, Blaine might not remember the visit later tonight.)
He focuses instead on the warm press of Blaine against his side and how they both giggle whenever the word 'squatchy' is used.
honey, why are you calling me so late (or Blaine’s love of Kurt and his love of sleep are at odds)
Blaine has never been a heavy sleeper.
Maybe it's an example of evolutionary survival skills or something, but the slightest noises can shock him awake from, giving Blaine near heart attacks as he prepares to be killed in bed. Kurt knows this, because when they were both at Dalton, Blaine would complain about how his roommate's small bladder would force him into insomnia.
At the time, Kurt would sigh dramatically on his behalf and promise that they could nap in his room once Warblers practice was over. Except they rarely napped like they meant to, because before they were dating it was kind of awkward and after they were dating, Kurt and Blaine were caught up by the shiny newness of being in a relationship and would spend half the time marveling in each other's presence and the other half making out until it was time for supper.
Now, Blaine glares blearily at his cellphone. It's shining like a beacon in the dark of his room, a candid shot of Kurt laughing like he's making fun of his boyfriend as the custom ring tone seems to scream at Blaine.
You can't buy a house in heaven! Lady Gaga unhelpfully informs him. Blaine tries not to sound like he hates his life when he picks up with a rough, "Hello?"
"Blaine, do you know what time it is?"
It's unfair how bright Kurt sounds. Blaine can picture his boyfriend, sitting primly at his vanity, like it's not completely psychotic to call people in the middle of the night. Still, Blaine is a sap in love and half-blinds himself checking the time on his phone.
"It's 11:58."
It's a little pathetic how much Blaine wants to go to back to sleep. He's the worse teenager in the world and hates being up later that 10:30. The fact that his and Kurt's night time phone call/skin care regime usually ends around a quarter past ten even pushes it.
"My clock must be fast," Kurt says, sounding disappointed.
Blaine gives up on sitting and collapses back into his pillows, letting out a yawn. It's not that he doesn't like talking to Kurt. In fact, he loves talking to Kurt but it's a school night and he's tired and they're not even saying anything.
"Okay, check the time again," Kurt says, just as Blaine lets his eyes shut.
Blaine groans, but he's still a sap and he's still crazy about Kurt, so he blinds himself again. To keep from losing all respect for himself, Blaine decides that people have done worse things for love.
"It's midnight, Kurt," Blaine says, yawning and drawing out his boyfriend's name.
Even though he doesn't say anything at first, the way Kurt inhales sharply lets Blaine know that he's grinning like a maniac, maybe even bouncing in his seat a little. Somewhere, in the part of his brain that is Not-So-Dapper, Blaine thinks that being so excited so late should be a federal offense and not just because criminal/cop roleplay with Kurt would be hot.
"Happy anniversary," Kurt trills and completely shatters Blaine's half-formed fantasy.
"Huh."
It's not his most eloquent reply, because Blaine's brain is currently working at about a million miles a minute.
He and Kurt were never ones to make a big deal month-a-versaries like most of their friends. When they were in sappy moods, both Kurt and Blaine had justified it as treating every day together as something special. On more bitter days, they thought about (but never said) how acknowledging their relationship in such a public manner could end poorly.
Still, a year is a long time and not just because of the usually short shelf-life of high school romances. There's been so many things in the past year that could've broken either one of them, between school transfers and slushies and New York looming closer every day.
But it's also not like Blaine can't see the many, many high parts of his and Kurt's relationship. Their first kiss (and all of the kisses that followed) have been magical. Spending last summer either in Lima or Westerville, learning everything there was to know about Kurt left Blaine feeling like he knows himself better, somehow. Then, once he transferred to McKinley (which definitely sucked), Blaine found himself seeing Kurt every day (which didn't even exist in the same universe as sucking).
For the first time ever, Blaine had an actual Valentine for V-Day. But long before the holiday, on the opening night of West Side Story, he learned what it was like to feel love so completely that it left him aching. And maybe it's kind of shallow, but Blaine considers losing his virginity with Kurt to be a highlight of his year, if not his lifetime.
Not because it was all soft lights like a teen movie or pure sex like porn, but because it was just him and Kurt how they always were. That meant a lot of talking and even more kissing (they've always been excellent at both, in Blaine's opinion) and finally, lying together in Blaine's bed: sated and warm and so sure in what they have.
"Blaine, while we both love simplicity, I really hope you have something better to say about this relationship milestone than 'huh'," Kurt teases, efficiently derailing Blaine's thoughts only to send them spiraling somewhere else entirely.
More specifically, he's sent them to the place that Blaine has only discussed with Kurt a few times, clearly marked off and labeled in Blaine's mind as The Future. He's seeing himself bringing Kurt flowers later today at lunch and then singing to him at glee club, because Blaine still doesn't think he's the best at romance but he tries. He's also picturing their second anniversary. And then their fifth. And tenth. And fiftieth.
"I love you," Blaine says suddenly, but not insincerely, "I love you more today than ever before, but then I'll love you even more tomorrow and even more than that the next day."
"A vicious cycle," Kurt agrees, "I have the same problem about you."
"It's our anniversary."
If it wasn't so late, Blaine would be embarrassed how watery his voice sounds. He wipes at his eyes and feels tears, even though there's a mile wide grin on his face.
"It is," Kurt says, sounding a little watery himself, "I wanted to make sure my voice was the first thing you heard today, because it's our day, even if I can't shower you in affection like I'd want to."
Blaine is about to say that the weekend was invented for things like that, loving each other without any fear. About how one day, soon, they'll be able to be in love like anyone else without closed doors. Instead, he lets out another groan.
"Oh my god, Kurt, we have school in the morning! What time is it even?"
Kurt has the gall to laugh at Blaine, which would be irritating if he wasn't crazy about the sound, because he remembers when they first met and having Kurt laugh was like stumbling upon buried treasure. The sound is just as precious now, but Blaine loves the new frequency.
Still, Kurt has the decency to quell his laughter before saying, "It's, like, ten minutes past midnight. At this point, it's too late to worry about your carriage becoming a pumpkin."
Kurt can be a such a dick sometimes. Blaine tells him so, only to be treated to more laughter. Blaine laughs a little too, because his boyfriend's joy is contagious, even at when it's at Blaine expense.
"Well, I better let you get back to bed," Kurt says, "I'd hate to be the cause of any bags under your eyes."
"Like you couldn't make them disappear with a cold compress," Blaine scoffs and then, quietly, "Happy anniversary, Kurt. I love you."
"Love you, too. Have sweet dreams, okay?"
They hang up after that and, disgustingly cheesy as he knows it sounds, Blaine has sweet dreams, because they're all about him and Kurt and what the next year will bring.
between you and me, we could start a riot (or how Blaine will always want to make a scene with Kurt)
He's done the walk to pomp and circumstance, gotten his diploma from Figgins (who somehow managed to stumble over his name), and tossed his cap. Even though they still have a half-day on Monday, Blaine considers himself done with high school.
He and Tina are hugging and shouting about how good it feels to finally be free and, yeah, they're both tearing up a little. Blaine definitely gets what Kurt meant about senior year wrecking havoc on your emotions.
"Red looks good on you," a voice behind Blaine murmurs.
It's Kurt, smiling a little shyly and holding a bouquet of daffodils. New beginnings, Blaine thinks, because he got a little obsessed with flower meanings this year, because he and Kurt made an effort to send each other arrangements every month, always on the fifteenth.
Tina gives them each a quick kiss on the cheek before slipping away. Kurt and Blaine just stare at each other for a while. It's the first time they've been in the same room since spring break and Blaine wishes he was in something a little more fashionable that his graduation gown.
Kurt, as always, looks flawless: he's in the suit that Blaine remembers from his presidential campaign and a pair of Docs. He's got a pin of the New York skyline on his lapel and Blaine realizes that not only is this his college student boyfriend, but in a few short months, they'll be together again. Forever.
"I really want to kiss you right now," Blaine confesses, toying with the too long sleeves of his robe.
And this strange look passes over Kurt's face, his smile not disappearing, but it tightens and there's a determined gleam in his eye. He steps closer and Blaine can smell Kurt's shampoo. It's the same as he remembers, even if Kurt is styling his hair differently now.
"What's stopping you?" Kurt teases, voice low and sultry.
It makes Blaine think of spring break, when he flew out to the city for the week. Finn and Rachel were blissfully absent. He and Kurt spent the same amount of time in Kurt's bed as they did touring the city. It's the favorite vacation that Blaine has ever been on, because being with Kurt felt more like home than anyplace else in the world.
"I don't know."
That's a lie and Blaine knows it. Even though he's done with school and Ohio and the dirty stares that he's gotten in both, he's afraid. As if on cue, his wrist twinges with hurt, reminding him how love can so easily fuel hate.
Blaine has only told Kurt about what happened at the Sadie Hawkins dance a handful of times. But, there's still understanding in his eyes as he takes a gentle hold of Blaine's wrist, like he somehow knew that the pin holding the bones together was bothering him. It's enough to make Blaine fall in love all over again.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says, "It's your graduation. I shouldn't try to make a scene."
He looks guilty, like there's something wrong with wanting to kiss your boyfriend at graduation. It makes Blaine hate himself a little and the place they are a lot more. About ten feet away, he can see Mike and Tina making out and the unfairness of everything hits like it always does; nothing new but making Blaine feel bitter and raw.
He's suddenly aware of the fact that he can count the number of times he and Kurt have kissed in the school on one hand. Blaine decides that he want to change that.
So, he grabs one of Kurt's hips firmly. The touch is possessive, but his smile is sweet, like Blaine hasn't gripped Kurt's hips before and watch him unravel. He steps in even closer, so there's nose-to-nose and no one in the room would be able to mistake what they are. (Gay. Dating. In love. Untouchable.)
"I want to make scenes with you for the rest of my life," Blaine says and kisses Kurt.
There's about a half-second where Kurt seems too stunned to do anything, but then he's tightening his grip on Blaine's wrist and opening his mouth ever-so-slightly. Blaine takes the invitation and kisses him deeper, tasting Kurt's toothpaste and god, Blaine didn't even realize how much he liked the taste until now.
They kiss to make up for lost time. Blaine has slipped his hand underneath Kurt's suit jacket and gently strokes whatever skin he can reach with his thumb. Kurt alternates between nipping at Blaine's lower lip and then sucking it, like he wants to sooth the bite.
When they finally break apart, it's because there's a little ahem behind them, unmistakably Blaine's mother. Sheepishly, Blaine turns to face his family, well aware that his mouth will likely be red and swollen for any pictures now. As he slips his hand easily into Kurt's, like they haven't been apart for the better part of the year, he's okay with that.
it doesn’t matter where, just say “i do” (or Kurt and Blaine discuss wedding venues)
"Do you ever get tempted to throw the wedding binder in the trash and just elope?" Blaine asked.
Kurt looked up at him with narrowed eyes, different fabric swatches and venue pictures spread out in front of him. They were still ten months away from the wedding, but he wanted everything to be perfect.
"You're not funny, Blaine Anderson. I waited too long to just elope."
It was three years after Blaine had graduated from NYU when the National Marriage Equality bill had been passed. They had spent most of the evening on the couch, watching CNN and waiting for the results. When the story broke about it passing, Kurt had yelled and hugged Blaine tightly.
"We're getting married!" Kurt had shouted, kissing any part of Blaine's face that we could, "We're getting married and no one can stop us!"
It was as close to a proposal as either one of them got, because until then, they both knew that they'd wind up married. The only question was when. Now, two months later, Kurt's wedding binder weighs at least ten pounds and has about a million article clippings, pictures, and notes in it.
Blaine drops into the seat next to his fiancé. (And the only time Blaine will get sick of referring to Kurt as 'fiancé' is when he can replace it with 'husband'.) He scans the list of possible venues and, half-way through, lets out a little laugh.
"Dalton Academy, Kurt?"
Kurt rolls his eyes and snatches the list back. With a long-suffering sigh, he explains, "It's where we first met. I was hoping you could appreciate the symbolism."
"Do we get to have a Warbler theme?" Blaine teases, "You know, for the symbolism?"
Looking horrified by the thought, Kurt crosses Dalton off the list. Because, as he tells Blaine, navy blue and bright red would be a hideous color scheme since their aiming for a summer wedding.
"I recall you not minding that color scheme back then," Blaine says, dropping his voice low and running a hand over Kurt's thigh, "You told me that you loved the blazer."
"Not enough to marry you in it," Kurt retorts, kissing Blaine to shut him up.
we’re having a baby, my baby & me (or nine months of waiting finally pays off)
It's three am when Blaine's phone goes off. Rolling away from Kurt, he squints at the caller ID and sees that it's from their surrogate. Fumbling with it for a few seconds, Blaine answers with, "Cindy? Are you okay?"
"Actually, this is Mark, Cindy's husband. The contractions are close enough that I'm taking her to the hospital, but Cindy wanted to make sure that you and Kurt knew."
"Seriously?" Blaine yelps, feeling his mouth go dry.
He hears Mark laugh. "Seriously. You're gonna be a dad in a few hours."
And Blaine just blanks out on the rest of the conversation, because he's running around the
house; getting dressed, waking up Kurt, and trying to get everything together all at once.
By three-thirty, they've gotten to the hospital and checked in with Cindy, who didn't put up a fuss when Blaine insisted on taking a about dozen photo of everything in the room.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says, running a hand through his still sleep-mussed hair, "We want to make sure we don't forget a single minute of this."
Cindy smiles and pats his hand, reassuring Kurt that she's been through this twice on her own and a half dozen times for others, so she understands their excitement. Not for the first time, Kurt feels incredibly lucky that she agreed to be their surrogate.
For the next two hours, Kurt and Blaine are back in forth between the room (where they talk with Cindy and try their best to comfort her through the contractions) and the waiting room (where they field what seems like a million phone calls from friends and family and eat a quick cafeteria breakfast). At five-thirty, Cindy's obstetrician says it's time to push and by six, there's a squalling, seven pound baby boy being placed into Kurt's arms.
He's held babies before: Finn's daughter and Blaine's nephew and, one visit back to Lima, Dave Karofsky's six-month old son. This boy is his though. His and Blaine's and so utterly perfect that Kurt wants to cry.
Next to him, Blaine lets out this big, awful sniff. He reaches over Kurt to press a kiss to the little boy's head and, stupidly, Kurt worries about the trace of stubble on his husband's face. Maybe it's Kurt over-dramatic imagination, but once Blaine pulls back from the kiss, the baby starts to settle down.
Soon, he's asleep, red face twisted into something that could resemble a smile, if you squinted. Voice thick, Blaine angles his iPhone in front of them, pressing a kiss to Kurt's cheek. In a soft whisper, he says, "Say cheese."
Kurt does and even if the little click of the camera makes the baby fuss in his arms, he knows that their first family portrait will be the one he loves best. (For now, at least.)
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Kurt/Blaine. A few others appear.
Spoiler(s): General spoilers for S3 and a character who hasn't appeared on the show yet.
Note: Title and cut stolen shamelessly and unironically from Taylor Swift’s Ours.
Summary: Call it destiny or dumb luck or whatever you want: Kurt and Blaine are made for each other. Collection of everything I've written for Klaine Week 2012.
growing up beside you (or the time Kurt and Blaine met as kids)
Blaine was excited as Mommy unstrapped him from his car seat. Tonight, he got to go with her and Cooper to the big kid's school for the first time ever.
Blaine was sure that big kid school was the best place in the whole wide world, because his brother was always telling him about what they did during the day and would sometimes even read out loud to Blaine from his books.
Even with Mommy holding one of his hands and Cooper holding the other, he bounced all the way up the sidewalk and into the school.
"Sweetie, I need you to calm down," Mommy said, "You can't jump around like that in school. You could get hurt."
Blaine nodded and stopped jumping, but still felt excited as they walked down the hallways and Cooper showed off the art projects hanging all over.
"This one is from music class!" he said excitedly, lifting Blaine up so he could see better, "It's me and you on the Yellow Submarine."
"Like the song, Coop?"
"Just like the song, buddy."
After oohing over the picture for a little while longer, the brothers hurried over to where Mommy was talking to another grown-up. Puffing up his chest, Cooper said, "That's Mrs. Hummel. Her fourth grade class is the best. She tells us that all the time."
Blaine couldn't really believe how cool his big brother was sometimes. Being in fourth grade was exciting enough, but being in the best fourth grade class? That was super duper cool. He let Cooper half-lead, half-drag him over to the grown ups, suddenly feeling shy.
"Who do we have here, Cooper?" Mrs. Hummel said, leaning down and smiling wide.
She smells a little like flowers and Blaine hides his face in his brother's side. Cooper tries to shake him loose, explaining. "This is my little brother, Blaine. He came to conferences because Dad works tonight."
"It's nice to meet you, Blaine. Cooper talks about you all the time."
She offered him her hand and, shyly, Blaine reached out to shake. It made him feel grown up and a little less afraid. Standing up again, Mrs. Hummel turned to Mommy.
"My husband had to drop off our son this afternoon. I'm sure that Kurt would love to have a playmate while the three of us talk."
She nodded to the corner of the room, where a little boy was playing with Legos. As Cooper went to get his folder out of his cubby, Mommy lead Blaine over to the table and gave her youngest a small kiss on the head.
"Play nice, okay? I'll be right across the room if you need anything."
Blaine nodded and sat down into the chair across from the other boy. It was high up and, even when he swung his legs, Blaine couldn't reach the floor. After pretending he was a prince on a thrown for a little while, he stared at the other boy. He looked the same age as Blaine, but was dressed in a sweater without sleeves and what Mommy called 'church pants'. Not sure what to do, Blaine stuck out his hand across the table.
"My name is Blaine. I'm five."
The other boy stared at the offered hand for a moment, then shook it. When he talked, his voice was very quiet. "My name is Kurt. I'm five and a half. The half is special."
Blaine nodded, because everyone knew that when you were a half, it was special. He told Kurt this, not letting go of the other boy's hand. It was warm.
"What're you making?"
Kurt's eyes lit up. "A garage for my Barbie car. It's pink."
Blaine had never heard of a boy with a Barbie car before, but he wasn't going to say anything. Maybe the boys at Kurt's daycare all had pink Barbie cars and it was weird that Blaine didn't have one. Instead, he asked if he could help.
"Sure. You gotta let go of my hand though."
And Blaine was a little sad to do that, because it was nice to hold hands with someone whose hands were the same as his. Still, he wanted to help with the garage and Legos were his favorite. They played until Mommy came and said it was time to go. Blaine stuck out his hand for Kurt to shake again.
"Promise we'll play again?" Blaine asked, trying to look at Kurt as seriously as possible. It made him go a little cross-eyed.
Kurt giggled a little, but still shook on it. "Promise. We're gonna be the bestest friends."
i can’t help falling in love with you (or it’s the 1950s and things are only harder)
It's Sadie Hawkins.
It's the biggest dance of the year next to prom and Kurt is in his new suit jacket, Brittany snuggling into his chest as they spin around to the band crooning out a Frank Sinatra song. Brittany's hair smells sweet and over the top of her head, Kurt can see Finn flash him a grin. He's dancing with Quinn, who was on an "extended visit" with her aunt this time last year and missed Sadie Hawkins.
The song ends and Brittany leans up to kiss Kurt's cheek. She's a cheerleader and has the type of sweet smile that always turns him into a sucker. They've been dating ever since Kurt fumbled his way onto the football team (excuse the pun, hardee har har).
"This has been so much fun. It's sad that the band has to take a break," Brittany says, "You should visit your friend. Billy?"
"Blaine," Kurt corrects automatically, "And, yeah, I think I'll do that."
They break apart and Brittany flounces off to a gaggle of her cheerleader friends. The pack of girls all swoon over her corsage as Kurt sneaks away. He finds Blaine outside of the gym, door propped open and an unlit cigarette in hand. Kurt barely keeps his own swooning under control.
"The gig is going well," Kurt says lightly, bumping their shoulders together as he leans against the wall too, "Lend me a smoke?"
Blaine passes him one, ignoring the electric spark that courses through his veins when their finger brush. Nodding in thanks, Kurt pulls a lighter that used to belong to his mom and lights them both up. They shoot the breeze for a bit about The Warblers' performance tonight and how nice Brittany looks in green before Blaine suddenly lets out a desperate, frustrated groan.
"You okay?" Kurt asks, knowing he's not and guessing the reason why.
"I hate that the only way I can go to the same dance as you is if I'm with the goddamn band!" Blaine snaps, anger bubbling just under the surface of his prep school veneer, "And even then, you're getting friendly with your little girlfriend. I want that to be us. I know it's wrong, but I can't help but want it."
Kurt flicks his cigarette and loosely takes a hold of Blaine's hand. It's safe, because if someone else shows up, he can pull away fast, but for now he brushes his thumb over the ridges of Blaine's knuckles. His voice is soft and sad, because this is a conversation they've had about a million times.
"There's nothing wrong with it, baby. But us thinking it isn't gonna change the fact that boys don't take boys to Sadie Hawkins."
Blaine still looks miserable and Kurt is a little scared that he might start bawling, then Kurt will be all water works too. He squeezes Blaine's hand, making him look up. Smiling tightly, Kurt says, "I got a surprise for you, okay? It's not much, but I've wanted to do this ever since we decided to go steady."
He pulls his class ring out of his pocket, where it's sat like a lead weight all night. Kurt's original plan was to wait until after the dance for this, when the two of them ditched Lima for Westerville, where Blaine's parents were out of town. (The Andersons had asked him to stay for the weekend and 'keep Blaine out of trouble'.)
Even if the timing is wrong, the fit is right; Kurt's ring slips onto Blaine's finger like a glove. Blaine gives him this heated look, a grin spreading slowly onto his face. Because it may not mean the two of them can slow dance together, but the ring sure as hell means something. He wants to press Kurt into the brick wall then, until they're both panting with swollen mouths and hickey marked necks.
Except Thad picks that moment to burst out the door and grab Blaine by the shoulder. "Come on, man! Warblers are supposed to be back on now and you're out here with the public school nerds?"
Kurt stays where he is, hating the fact that one of Blaine's closest friends has no clue who he is. He also hates the way Thad says 'public school' like it's a dirty word, like Kurt is something small and ugly just because he doesn't have a fancy new car or go to a school that requires the students to wear uniforms. Vindictively (and ignoring the fact he tends not to swing that way), Kurt thinks, Well, at least we have chicks here.
Blaine mouths the word 'later' as he's pulled away and Kurt waits until he hears the next song start up to slip back to his date.
nothing can stop me from getting to you (or Kurt breaks in to visit Blaine)
So, over the span of their relationship, Kurt has broken into Blaine's house a grand total of once. It was the first time that Kurt came over, when Blaine was in the shower, but told Kurt to let himself in, but had forgotten to unlock the front door.
After fifteen minutes of panicking and Blaine not answering his cell, Kurt had just snuck in through an open window on the first floor. (He never tells Blaine this story, because as he smoothed his outfit back into place after crawling through the window, Kurt recognized how ridiculous the whole thing was.)
Anyway, it's the day after Blaine's surgery and Kurt finds himself breaking into the Andersons' house once again. At lunch, he had called to see how Blaine was feeling, only to learn that his boyfriend was home alone. Kurt had immediately tossed the rest of his lunch and made a bee line for his car.
"Honey, could you open the door for me?" Kurt had asked, clearly remembering Blaine saying he would.
And yet, when he heads to the front door, it's locked tight and Blaine isn't answering his phone. A wave of unsettling déjà vu washes over Kurt as he analyzes his options.
It snowed this morning, meaning that the chances of a window being left open again is slim. Besides, that would mean making footprints in the snow and he really doubts that leaving evidence to the fact that Kurt not only played hooky but visited Blaine when the two of them would be home alone would endear him to Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.
(Never mind the fact that Kurt and Blaine are alone so often in the house that when Blaine's parents are actually home, Kurt and Blaine both forget that they have to be careful about where they keep their hands and mouths, unless they want to sit through another painfully awkward dinner.)
Kurt goes to the garage door, but there's no keypad and, anyway, he'd have no clue of the passcode. He tries Blaine's cell again and there's still no response. A small part of him that's sick of the February wind that's surely drying out his skin and ruining his hair, says to go back to Lima and try to visit Blaine another day.
The rest of Kurt, naturally, is horrified by the very idea. Blaine is stuck at home because he was protecting Kurt. He's missed Michael week and the hot Spanish teacher and is sitting home alone, because he didn't want his boyfriend to get slushied.
It pisses Kurt off. Senior year was supposed to be his; with Blaine at his side and New York so close that he could see the glittering lights whenever he closed his eyes. It wasn't supposed be Blaine having surgery and Kurt hurting every day he's gone, thinking this is how it's going to be all of next year.
Kurt kicks the rock in front of him, only to send it flying. He hurries to put it back, because the whole 'don't leave proof you were here' thing is important. As he picks up the rock, Kurt notices how light it feels and runs his hands over it until he finds the false bottom. A house key falls out and Kurt is thankful that the Andersons are apparently as trusting as their son.
He unlocks the front door and then carefully replaces the key, before hurrying into the house. Kurt leaves his boots on the front mat and padding through Blaine's house in just his socks makes him feeling sneaky. By the time he makes it to Blaine's room, Kurt struggles to ignore the Mission Impossible theme music in his head.
Blaine isn't exactly asleep in bed, but he doesn't acknowledge Kurt right away either. He's focused on his TV, watching a group of grown men attempt to find proof that Bigfoot exists. Something in his heart twists pleasantly, because this is the boy that Kurt is in love with.
"Blaine," Kurt says warmly, sitting in the chair that's set up next to the bed.
Blaine looks at him, a smile stretching across his face, slow and beautiful. He sits up a little straighter in bed and runs a hand through his own hair. It's not gelled and immediately bounces back up in defiance. Kurt laughs a little and leans in to kiss Blaine on the cheek.
"How do you feel?" He asks, smoothing down the edges of Blaine's quilt.
"I might be back to school at the end of the week," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hand, "My parents want me to be done with the meds first. Your skin is so soft."
He presses a kiss to the place where Kurt's wrist and palm meet, mouth warm and dry. Kurt tries not to flush, instead tilting Blaine's chin up to kiss him, soft and quick. Blaine promptly swipes his tongue across Kurt's mouth, then sucks greedily on his boyfriend's lower lip.
Kurt wants to laugh into the kiss, but winds up moaning instead. He slides a hand into the soft curls at the base of Blaine's neck, reveling in the feel of sleep mussed hair. Blaine is the one to pull away, still smiling as he presses a another, softer kiss onto the tip of Kurt's nose.
"I missed you," he says, sounding earnest even if the painkillers make his voice softer, "Are you staying?"
Kurt is tempted to say that with all the trouble he went through to get in, there's no way he's leaving until it's absolutely necessary. Except, even if the door had been unlocked and Blaine wasn't hazy from the medication and post-op, Kurt would still want to steal away every moment that he could before New York happens.
So, Kurt drops his voice into what he hopes sounds sexy and says, "I'll stay as long as you make room in that bed."
The attempted seduction sails clear over Blaine's head. He nods enthusiastically, pulling back the quilt and patting the spot next to him. And Kurt doesn't even care about how undignified he must look, crawling from the chair to the bed in jeans that are too tight for such activities. He also doesn't care about how high Blaine probably is right now. (If the excited yaaaaay he let out when Kurt curled a hand around his hip is anything to go by, Blaine might not remember the visit later tonight.)
He focuses instead on the warm press of Blaine against his side and how they both giggle whenever the word 'squatchy' is used.
honey, why are you calling me so late (or Blaine’s love of Kurt and his love of sleep are at odds)
Blaine has never been a heavy sleeper.
Maybe it's an example of evolutionary survival skills or something, but the slightest noises can shock him awake from, giving Blaine near heart attacks as he prepares to be killed in bed. Kurt knows this, because when they were both at Dalton, Blaine would complain about how his roommate's small bladder would force him into insomnia.
At the time, Kurt would sigh dramatically on his behalf and promise that they could nap in his room once Warblers practice was over. Except they rarely napped like they meant to, because before they were dating it was kind of awkward and after they were dating, Kurt and Blaine were caught up by the shiny newness of being in a relationship and would spend half the time marveling in each other's presence and the other half making out until it was time for supper.
Now, Blaine glares blearily at his cellphone. It's shining like a beacon in the dark of his room, a candid shot of Kurt laughing like he's making fun of his boyfriend as the custom ring tone seems to scream at Blaine.
You can't buy a house in heaven! Lady Gaga unhelpfully informs him. Blaine tries not to sound like he hates his life when he picks up with a rough, "Hello?"
"Blaine, do you know what time it is?"
It's unfair how bright Kurt sounds. Blaine can picture his boyfriend, sitting primly at his vanity, like it's not completely psychotic to call people in the middle of the night. Still, Blaine is a sap in love and half-blinds himself checking the time on his phone.
"It's 11:58."
It's a little pathetic how much Blaine wants to go to back to sleep. He's the worse teenager in the world and hates being up later that 10:30. The fact that his and Kurt's night time phone call/skin care regime usually ends around a quarter past ten even pushes it.
"My clock must be fast," Kurt says, sounding disappointed.
Blaine gives up on sitting and collapses back into his pillows, letting out a yawn. It's not that he doesn't like talking to Kurt. In fact, he loves talking to Kurt but it's a school night and he's tired and they're not even saying anything.
"Okay, check the time again," Kurt says, just as Blaine lets his eyes shut.
Blaine groans, but he's still a sap and he's still crazy about Kurt, so he blinds himself again. To keep from losing all respect for himself, Blaine decides that people have done worse things for love.
"It's midnight, Kurt," Blaine says, yawning and drawing out his boyfriend's name.
Even though he doesn't say anything at first, the way Kurt inhales sharply lets Blaine know that he's grinning like a maniac, maybe even bouncing in his seat a little. Somewhere, in the part of his brain that is Not-So-Dapper, Blaine thinks that being so excited so late should be a federal offense and not just because criminal/cop roleplay with Kurt would be hot.
"Happy anniversary," Kurt trills and completely shatters Blaine's half-formed fantasy.
"Huh."
It's not his most eloquent reply, because Blaine's brain is currently working at about a million miles a minute.
He and Kurt were never ones to make a big deal month-a-versaries like most of their friends. When they were in sappy moods, both Kurt and Blaine had justified it as treating every day together as something special. On more bitter days, they thought about (but never said) how acknowledging their relationship in such a public manner could end poorly.
Still, a year is a long time and not just because of the usually short shelf-life of high school romances. There's been so many things in the past year that could've broken either one of them, between school transfers and slushies and New York looming closer every day.
But it's also not like Blaine can't see the many, many high parts of his and Kurt's relationship. Their first kiss (and all of the kisses that followed) have been magical. Spending last summer either in Lima or Westerville, learning everything there was to know about Kurt left Blaine feeling like he knows himself better, somehow. Then, once he transferred to McKinley (which definitely sucked), Blaine found himself seeing Kurt every day (which didn't even exist in the same universe as sucking).
For the first time ever, Blaine had an actual Valentine for V-Day. But long before the holiday, on the opening night of West Side Story, he learned what it was like to feel love so completely that it left him aching. And maybe it's kind of shallow, but Blaine considers losing his virginity with Kurt to be a highlight of his year, if not his lifetime.
Not because it was all soft lights like a teen movie or pure sex like porn, but because it was just him and Kurt how they always were. That meant a lot of talking and even more kissing (they've always been excellent at both, in Blaine's opinion) and finally, lying together in Blaine's bed: sated and warm and so sure in what they have.
"Blaine, while we both love simplicity, I really hope you have something better to say about this relationship milestone than 'huh'," Kurt teases, efficiently derailing Blaine's thoughts only to send them spiraling somewhere else entirely.
More specifically, he's sent them to the place that Blaine has only discussed with Kurt a few times, clearly marked off and labeled in Blaine's mind as The Future. He's seeing himself bringing Kurt flowers later today at lunch and then singing to him at glee club, because Blaine still doesn't think he's the best at romance but he tries. He's also picturing their second anniversary. And then their fifth. And tenth. And fiftieth.
"I love you," Blaine says suddenly, but not insincerely, "I love you more today than ever before, but then I'll love you even more tomorrow and even more than that the next day."
"A vicious cycle," Kurt agrees, "I have the same problem about you."
"It's our anniversary."
If it wasn't so late, Blaine would be embarrassed how watery his voice sounds. He wipes at his eyes and feels tears, even though there's a mile wide grin on his face.
"It is," Kurt says, sounding a little watery himself, "I wanted to make sure my voice was the first thing you heard today, because it's our day, even if I can't shower you in affection like I'd want to."
Blaine is about to say that the weekend was invented for things like that, loving each other without any fear. About how one day, soon, they'll be able to be in love like anyone else without closed doors. Instead, he lets out another groan.
"Oh my god, Kurt, we have school in the morning! What time is it even?"
Kurt has the gall to laugh at Blaine, which would be irritating if he wasn't crazy about the sound, because he remembers when they first met and having Kurt laugh was like stumbling upon buried treasure. The sound is just as precious now, but Blaine loves the new frequency.
Still, Kurt has the decency to quell his laughter before saying, "It's, like, ten minutes past midnight. At this point, it's too late to worry about your carriage becoming a pumpkin."
Kurt can be a such a dick sometimes. Blaine tells him so, only to be treated to more laughter. Blaine laughs a little too, because his boyfriend's joy is contagious, even at when it's at Blaine expense.
"Well, I better let you get back to bed," Kurt says, "I'd hate to be the cause of any bags under your eyes."
"Like you couldn't make them disappear with a cold compress," Blaine scoffs and then, quietly, "Happy anniversary, Kurt. I love you."
"Love you, too. Have sweet dreams, okay?"
They hang up after that and, disgustingly cheesy as he knows it sounds, Blaine has sweet dreams, because they're all about him and Kurt and what the next year will bring.
between you and me, we could start a riot (or how Blaine will always want to make a scene with Kurt)
He's done the walk to pomp and circumstance, gotten his diploma from Figgins (who somehow managed to stumble over his name), and tossed his cap. Even though they still have a half-day on Monday, Blaine considers himself done with high school.
He and Tina are hugging and shouting about how good it feels to finally be free and, yeah, they're both tearing up a little. Blaine definitely gets what Kurt meant about senior year wrecking havoc on your emotions.
"Red looks good on you," a voice behind Blaine murmurs.
It's Kurt, smiling a little shyly and holding a bouquet of daffodils. New beginnings, Blaine thinks, because he got a little obsessed with flower meanings this year, because he and Kurt made an effort to send each other arrangements every month, always on the fifteenth.
Tina gives them each a quick kiss on the cheek before slipping away. Kurt and Blaine just stare at each other for a while. It's the first time they've been in the same room since spring break and Blaine wishes he was in something a little more fashionable that his graduation gown.
Kurt, as always, looks flawless: he's in the suit that Blaine remembers from his presidential campaign and a pair of Docs. He's got a pin of the New York skyline on his lapel and Blaine realizes that not only is this his college student boyfriend, but in a few short months, they'll be together again. Forever.
"I really want to kiss you right now," Blaine confesses, toying with the too long sleeves of his robe.
And this strange look passes over Kurt's face, his smile not disappearing, but it tightens and there's a determined gleam in his eye. He steps closer and Blaine can smell Kurt's shampoo. It's the same as he remembers, even if Kurt is styling his hair differently now.
"What's stopping you?" Kurt teases, voice low and sultry.
It makes Blaine think of spring break, when he flew out to the city for the week. Finn and Rachel were blissfully absent. He and Kurt spent the same amount of time in Kurt's bed as they did touring the city. It's the favorite vacation that Blaine has ever been on, because being with Kurt felt more like home than anyplace else in the world.
"I don't know."
That's a lie and Blaine knows it. Even though he's done with school and Ohio and the dirty stares that he's gotten in both, he's afraid. As if on cue, his wrist twinges with hurt, reminding him how love can so easily fuel hate.
Blaine has only told Kurt about what happened at the Sadie Hawkins dance a handful of times. But, there's still understanding in his eyes as he takes a gentle hold of Blaine's wrist, like he somehow knew that the pin holding the bones together was bothering him. It's enough to make Blaine fall in love all over again.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says, "It's your graduation. I shouldn't try to make a scene."
He looks guilty, like there's something wrong with wanting to kiss your boyfriend at graduation. It makes Blaine hate himself a little and the place they are a lot more. About ten feet away, he can see Mike and Tina making out and the unfairness of everything hits like it always does; nothing new but making Blaine feel bitter and raw.
He's suddenly aware of the fact that he can count the number of times he and Kurt have kissed in the school on one hand. Blaine decides that he want to change that.
So, he grabs one of Kurt's hips firmly. The touch is possessive, but his smile is sweet, like Blaine hasn't gripped Kurt's hips before and watch him unravel. He steps in even closer, so there's nose-to-nose and no one in the room would be able to mistake what they are. (Gay. Dating. In love. Untouchable.)
"I want to make scenes with you for the rest of my life," Blaine says and kisses Kurt.
There's about a half-second where Kurt seems too stunned to do anything, but then he's tightening his grip on Blaine's wrist and opening his mouth ever-so-slightly. Blaine takes the invitation and kisses him deeper, tasting Kurt's toothpaste and god, Blaine didn't even realize how much he liked the taste until now.
They kiss to make up for lost time. Blaine has slipped his hand underneath Kurt's suit jacket and gently strokes whatever skin he can reach with his thumb. Kurt alternates between nipping at Blaine's lower lip and then sucking it, like he wants to sooth the bite.
When they finally break apart, it's because there's a little ahem behind them, unmistakably Blaine's mother. Sheepishly, Blaine turns to face his family, well aware that his mouth will likely be red and swollen for any pictures now. As he slips his hand easily into Kurt's, like they haven't been apart for the better part of the year, he's okay with that.
it doesn’t matter where, just say “i do” (or Kurt and Blaine discuss wedding venues)
"Do you ever get tempted to throw the wedding binder in the trash and just elope?" Blaine asked.
Kurt looked up at him with narrowed eyes, different fabric swatches and venue pictures spread out in front of him. They were still ten months away from the wedding, but he wanted everything to be perfect.
"You're not funny, Blaine Anderson. I waited too long to just elope."
It was three years after Blaine had graduated from NYU when the National Marriage Equality bill had been passed. They had spent most of the evening on the couch, watching CNN and waiting for the results. When the story broke about it passing, Kurt had yelled and hugged Blaine tightly.
"We're getting married!" Kurt had shouted, kissing any part of Blaine's face that we could, "We're getting married and no one can stop us!"
It was as close to a proposal as either one of them got, because until then, they both knew that they'd wind up married. The only question was when. Now, two months later, Kurt's wedding binder weighs at least ten pounds and has about a million article clippings, pictures, and notes in it.
Blaine drops into the seat next to his fiancé. (And the only time Blaine will get sick of referring to Kurt as 'fiancé' is when he can replace it with 'husband'.) He scans the list of possible venues and, half-way through, lets out a little laugh.
"Dalton Academy, Kurt?"
Kurt rolls his eyes and snatches the list back. With a long-suffering sigh, he explains, "It's where we first met. I was hoping you could appreciate the symbolism."
"Do we get to have a Warbler theme?" Blaine teases, "You know, for the symbolism?"
Looking horrified by the thought, Kurt crosses Dalton off the list. Because, as he tells Blaine, navy blue and bright red would be a hideous color scheme since their aiming for a summer wedding.
"I recall you not minding that color scheme back then," Blaine says, dropping his voice low and running a hand over Kurt's thigh, "You told me that you loved the blazer."
"Not enough to marry you in it," Kurt retorts, kissing Blaine to shut him up.
we’re having a baby, my baby & me (or nine months of waiting finally pays off)
It's three am when Blaine's phone goes off. Rolling away from Kurt, he squints at the caller ID and sees that it's from their surrogate. Fumbling with it for a few seconds, Blaine answers with, "Cindy? Are you okay?"
"Actually, this is Mark, Cindy's husband. The contractions are close enough that I'm taking her to the hospital, but Cindy wanted to make sure that you and Kurt knew."
"Seriously?" Blaine yelps, feeling his mouth go dry.
He hears Mark laugh. "Seriously. You're gonna be a dad in a few hours."
And Blaine just blanks out on the rest of the conversation, because he's running around the
house; getting dressed, waking up Kurt, and trying to get everything together all at once.
By three-thirty, they've gotten to the hospital and checked in with Cindy, who didn't put up a fuss when Blaine insisted on taking a about dozen photo of everything in the room.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says, running a hand through his still sleep-mussed hair, "We want to make sure we don't forget a single minute of this."
Cindy smiles and pats his hand, reassuring Kurt that she's been through this twice on her own and a half dozen times for others, so she understands their excitement. Not for the first time, Kurt feels incredibly lucky that she agreed to be their surrogate.
For the next two hours, Kurt and Blaine are back in forth between the room (where they talk with Cindy and try their best to comfort her through the contractions) and the waiting room (where they field what seems like a million phone calls from friends and family and eat a quick cafeteria breakfast). At five-thirty, Cindy's obstetrician says it's time to push and by six, there's a squalling, seven pound baby boy being placed into Kurt's arms.
He's held babies before: Finn's daughter and Blaine's nephew and, one visit back to Lima, Dave Karofsky's six-month old son. This boy is his though. His and Blaine's and so utterly perfect that Kurt wants to cry.
Next to him, Blaine lets out this big, awful sniff. He reaches over Kurt to press a kiss to the little boy's head and, stupidly, Kurt worries about the trace of stubble on his husband's face. Maybe it's Kurt over-dramatic imagination, but once Blaine pulls back from the kiss, the baby starts to settle down.
Soon, he's asleep, red face twisted into something that could resemble a smile, if you squinted. Voice thick, Blaine angles his iPhone in front of them, pressing a kiss to Kurt's cheek. In a soft whisper, he says, "Say cheese."
Kurt does and even if the little click of the camera makes the baby fuss in his arms, he knows that their first family portrait will be the one he loves best. (For now, at least.)