Klaine Princess Diaries epilogue
Kurt’s favorite part of Genovia was being able to walk around with his boyfriend, holding hands, sharing quick little couple kisses, cuddling in public. Maybe it had to do with the two bodyguards and the fact that everyone knew Blaine was the Crown Prince, but still - he felt safe in Genovia.
Blaine had even almost mastered French, though his accent was still atrocious. Total immersion really seemed to work.
Kurt called Dad every morning (night in Lima) and shadowed Charlotte until lunch, which he shared with Blaine and Clarisse whenever she was available. In the afternoon, he sat in on Parliament or meetings; Blaine and Clarisse had the important seats, of course, but Kurt took his own notes and gave his opinion whenever asked.
Kurt wasn’t sure he’d ever have actual power over Genovia, per se, but Blaine and Clarisse appreciated his thoughts.
In the evenings, he sketched and wrote and sang with Blaine. Over the summer months, they actually performed for the staff a few times, to standing ovations.
At night, he and Blaine shared a bed and no one even blinked. Everybody knew he’d be Blaine’s husband one day, and that he was taking everything seriously, and he just really loved Genovia.
He loved Blaine, too. And Blaine was in his element, completely blossoming under the responsibilities he’d been given, and the trust placed in him, and a part of Kurt - a small part, mind, but still there - didn’t want to go to New York. Wanted to stay in Genovia, in this little safe haven.
But time was up. He and Blaine were flying to the Fort Wayne International Airport, where their dads were waiting, and they’d spend a couple days in Lima before driving to New York, where Clarisse had bought them a townhouse for however long they’d be in New York. Eliot and Joseph, as well as three other bodyguards, would be sharing the space, and Blaine was enrolled in NYU while Kurt would be starting Julliard.
His dream, for as long as he could remember. Blaine was asleep on his shoulder, Eliot and Joseph were deep in discussion about firearms, and Kurt felt so exhilarated.
“Take a breath,” he whispered, resting his cheek on Blaine’s head. “Count to ten.” He counted in French, German, and Spanish, and noticed as he murmured, “Treinta,” that Blaine’s eyes were open.
“Hey, babe,” Blaine muttered, grinning sleepily. “We there yet?”
“Almost,” Kurt told him. “You can go back to sleep. I know you didn’t get much last night.”
Blaine’s grin shifted into a smirk. “Like you did.”
Kurt blushed, glancing back at Joseph and Eliot, but they were still neck-deep about bullets. Blaine was laughing when he looked back, and said, “I really like it when you blush.”
“Believe me, I know,” Kurt told him, sitting up. It knocked Blaine off balance and he fell into Kurt, laughing again. “You’re such a dork,” Kurt muttered.
“Hey, I’m the Prince of Dorks,” Blaine said, faking a haughty tone. “Don’t you forget that you’re the prince’s boyfriend.”
Kurt nudged his shoulder, humming ‘Teenage Dream.’ Blaine murmured it, in English until Kurt nudged him again, and then he shifted to French. He stumbled a few times, of course, but it was still so hot.
I love you so much, you gorgeous, adorable boy, Kurt thought. And one day I’m going to marry you.
Lima, New York, then back to Pyrus. Back to Genovia, and the rest of their lives.
masterpost
Blaine had even almost mastered French, though his accent was still atrocious. Total immersion really seemed to work.
Kurt called Dad every morning (night in Lima) and shadowed Charlotte until lunch, which he shared with Blaine and Clarisse whenever she was available. In the afternoon, he sat in on Parliament or meetings; Blaine and Clarisse had the important seats, of course, but Kurt took his own notes and gave his opinion whenever asked.
Kurt wasn’t sure he’d ever have actual power over Genovia, per se, but Blaine and Clarisse appreciated his thoughts.
In the evenings, he sketched and wrote and sang with Blaine. Over the summer months, they actually performed for the staff a few times, to standing ovations.
At night, he and Blaine shared a bed and no one even blinked. Everybody knew he’d be Blaine’s husband one day, and that he was taking everything seriously, and he just really loved Genovia.
He loved Blaine, too. And Blaine was in his element, completely blossoming under the responsibilities he’d been given, and the trust placed in him, and a part of Kurt - a small part, mind, but still there - didn’t want to go to New York. Wanted to stay in Genovia, in this little safe haven.
But time was up. He and Blaine were flying to the Fort Wayne International Airport, where their dads were waiting, and they’d spend a couple days in Lima before driving to New York, where Clarisse had bought them a townhouse for however long they’d be in New York. Eliot and Joseph, as well as three other bodyguards, would be sharing the space, and Blaine was enrolled in NYU while Kurt would be starting Julliard.
His dream, for as long as he could remember. Blaine was asleep on his shoulder, Eliot and Joseph were deep in discussion about firearms, and Kurt felt so exhilarated.
“Take a breath,” he whispered, resting his cheek on Blaine’s head. “Count to ten.” He counted in French, German, and Spanish, and noticed as he murmured, “Treinta,” that Blaine’s eyes were open.
“Hey, babe,” Blaine muttered, grinning sleepily. “We there yet?”
“Almost,” Kurt told him. “You can go back to sleep. I know you didn’t get much last night.”
Blaine’s grin shifted into a smirk. “Like you did.”
Kurt blushed, glancing back at Joseph and Eliot, but they were still neck-deep about bullets. Blaine was laughing when he looked back, and said, “I really like it when you blush.”
“Believe me, I know,” Kurt told him, sitting up. It knocked Blaine off balance and he fell into Kurt, laughing again. “You’re such a dork,” Kurt muttered.
“Hey, I’m the Prince of Dorks,” Blaine said, faking a haughty tone. “Don’t you forget that you’re the prince’s boyfriend.”
Kurt nudged his shoulder, humming ‘Teenage Dream.’ Blaine murmured it, in English until Kurt nudged him again, and then he shifted to French. He stumbled a few times, of course, but it was still so hot.
I love you so much, you gorgeous, adorable boy, Kurt thought. And one day I’m going to marry you.
Lima, New York, then back to Pyrus. Back to Genovia, and the rest of their lives.
masterpost