(no subject)
p art one
6.To make the frosting, whisk together the sugar and butter until light and fluffy again, before adding the cream cheese to the mixture and combining until smooth.
Blaine once had a dream of dating a Broadway star if he couldn’t be one. But now that he thinks about it, dating the best friend of one is better. There’s no pre-show nerves - he saves those for when he hides quietly backstage at Kurt’s fashion shows instead, ghosting in the shadows so as not to get in the way - and he can just sit back and enjoy before going backstage to congratulate everyone.
Tonight, Rachel is second-lead in a new Schwartz musical, Eyes Wide, and Kurt and Blaine have third-row seats, and they’re stunned by the fabric of their harmonies, the weave of the voices and when the threads of the plot are all sewn up, Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hand lightly. I hope that happens to us. You. Me. Our happy ending. With a song if we can, too.
Backstage is buzzing, and Kurt jokes with Rachel while Blaine shakes hands with the other members of the cast, congratulating them on their opening night and thanking them.
“It’s lovely to see you, Rachel, but I need to now take Blaine away from you. We have - dinner reservations.”
“This late?”
“Yeah - sorry. Places to be. See you soon! Let’s go, Blaine.”
Kurt takes his hand and they leave, but instead of going round to the entrance, Blaine realises Kurt’s leading him onto the stage, gazing out into the empty auditorium and just imagining the same crowd from earlier.
“What’s this - Kurt, why are we?”
Kurt presses his finger over Blaine’s lips, mouthing hush before taking both of his hands.
“We could be anyone here, Blaine. Anyone we wanted. Georges and Albin - ”
“Collins and Angel?”
“Collins and Angel. And I’d totally rock that wig if I had the chance.”
Blaine laughs nervously, wondering where this is going.
“That’s the beauty of the stage. That’s why I wanted to perform in the first place. To be someone else. To be anyone else, when I didn’t know who I wanted to be myself. But now I know who I want to be, Blaine. I want to work in fashion. I want to keep designing, and writing, and go as far as I can with those. And I want to be,” Kurt pauses, takes a breath, traps Blaine’s gaze, “your husband.”
And then Kurt’s down on one knee, speaking calmly, with the control Blaine’s always known him to have, “Blaine Anderson, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”
“Where’s the ring, though?”
“There is no ring,” and Kurt laughs when he sees Blaine’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know what kind to get for you, so I bought you this instead, and I thought we could choose our rings together if you’d like.” From his pocket, he pulls a long, thin white box, opening it to show a simple, elegant silver watch.
“What do you think? I can take it back if you don’t like it, of course but I hope you do like it because I wanted to make this right for you first time - ”
“Kurt, shh, you’re rambling again,” Blaine smiles, blinking down at him with eyes of gold.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s beautiful, Kurt. You’re beautiful. And I would be proud to be your husband.”
Blaine breaks their hands, leans over, brushes Kurt’s hair from his forehead and traces down his cheek with a fingertip, tilting his chin up so he’s at just the right angle to kiss him beneath the dying glow of the stage lights.
7.Melt the butter. Crush the graham crackers before pouring the butter into them and stirring together.
The wedding is two months away and they’ve planned it for spring with a pastel theme. They’ve ordered lilies and orchids to decorate the venue and intend to adorn the pillars and the archways with them, then to have a veil of snowdrops hanging from an archway into the reception.
Kurt’s picked out white roses for their corsages and they still need to decide on whether they want a wedding cake, a display of Blaine’s cupcakes or a croquembouche. Blaine’s decided Kurt’s suit should be grey, and that his own should be a dark blue, but has allowed Kurt to design them.
They’re in the apartment and Kurt’s armed with his tape measure and his notepad and has Blaine standing in the centre of the open living space in a ludicrous starfish shape, arms and legs spread wide and sadly it’s not for any kind of fun reason. Kurt has the length stretched across the wingspan of Blaine’s arms before dropping it and noting down the measurements.
“Can I finally put my arms down now?”
“Yep. As long as I can get this round your chest next.”
Blaine sighs, letting himself relax a little, and Kurt wraps the tape around his body, pressing his hand over his heart for just a moment with a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. He moves the line down to Blaine’s waist and his hips before kneeling onto his heels, taking down the numbers before pushing himself higher, his eyes level with Blaine’s waistband.
“Expecting something?” Blaine teases, reaching his hand to fold through Kurt’s hair as if to pull him closer.
“Yes, I’m expecting you, silly, to stand up properly so I can measure you.”
Blaine snaps his legs together, the thud loud on the floor and accompanied by a salute. “Atten’shun, Sir!”
“Blaine.”
He doesn’t answer, just widens his stance obligingly. But Kurt can’t resist having a little fun with him, moving his fingers in slow, lazy circles across Blaine’s inner thighs, just enough for Blaine’s mouth to fall open slightly, his hips to just rock forwards.
“Kurt,” Blaine whispers, his voice suddenly dry.
He takes Blaine’s inseam measurement very quickly.
“All done,” he announces, flipping the notepad shut in demonstration.
“Don’t I get to have my turn measuring you?”
“I know my measurements perfectly, thank you.”
Blaine can’t help but be disappointed that he doesn’t get his revenge.
“But that doesn’t mean this tape measure is completely useless for us. Hands behind your back, Blaine.”
And Blaine knows Kurt’s plan now, and he can’t say he minds as Kurt uses the strip to bind them together before leaning in again. Blaine swears he can feel the heat of Kurt’s breath through his trousers.
“Now I think we can see just how much teasing you can take.”
Kurt starts to mouth at the fabric between Blaine’s legs, warm and soft and Blaine can only moan as he watches. Tonight is going to be a long night. And Blaine doesn’t mind one bit.
8. Pipe the frosting over the cupcakes, and finish them by adding a little topping of the crushed graham cracker mixture and the berries, if using.
Wedding Cake:
- · Traditional
- · White to match theme
- · We could decorate it with flowers?
- · Too normal?
- · Chances of it going wrong if not made by someone practiced so Blaine couldn’t make it
Cupcakes:
- · First time we met
- · DELICIOUS
- · Blaine could make easily
- · Could give to guests to take home
- · Not really “special occasion” suited
- · Can you cut a cupcake?
Croquembouche:
- · Also delicious
- · Very different
- · Would be a nightmare to make!!!
- · Would be a ceremonial breaking rather than cutting
- · Is it as “us” as the cupcakes?
Kurt screws the paper and the ideas, telling Blaine that he can decide what to make.
*
The snowdrops hang like frost from the arch over the doorway, and they’re breathing in more perfume than oxygen, or so it seems.
“Is it too much?”
“Kurt, it’s beautiful.”
Delicate shades of pink and green are scattered amongst the jigsaw of white, the tables circular, lit by candles which refract off the wine glasses and flicker like heartbeats and eyelashes and butterfly wings.
They’ve got a few moments before the rest of the guests arrive, and Blaine takes Kurt’s hand.
“Close your eyes.”
Kurt obliges, suddenly acutely aware of his own breathing as Blaine guides him, seemingly around the side of the room to the top table.
Blaine releases their contact and moves round to stand behind him, reaching around and slipping his hands on top of Kurt’s through his arms, pressing close to his back, his head over Kurt’s shoulder in a gesture that oddly familiar.
“You can open your eyes now.”
He feels Blaine nudge him gently in encouragement before he lets himself, blinking to adjust back to the light.
Blaine’s made cupcakes. A whole stand of cupcakes. And any worry Kurt had about them not being appropriate has vanished because Blaine’s used silver and white and pink and green cases to match the theme and added little silver balls to the topping and Kurt just wants to remember this before everyone else comes in and devours them.
“Blaine - I - it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You did so much. And it reminded me of us. And this is our wedding, for us, right?”
“I love it.”
“You’ll love it even more if you look on top.”
Kurt stands on tiptoe to see.
There are two cupcakes on the top tier. One iced with a K, the other with a B.
*
They save them for last. For when they’ve said their goodbyes and everyone’s returned to their hotels or back home and it’s just the two of them in the chaos of half-deflated balloons and the now-heady spiralling scent of the flowers. When the band has left and they’re dancing together to the rhythm of their own heartbeats and there’s nothing but their own galaxy, their orbits shifting into one another for good.
Kurt goes to the stand, picks up both, and hands the B to Blaine, who unwraps it at one side. But instead of eating it, he holds it to Kurt’s mouth.
“Together?” Kurt asks, doing the same with the K and brushing it against Blaine’s lips.
“On three. One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
9. Bon apetit!
9.