The Greatest Journey: Artist
A/N: This takes place after Blaine graduates and moves to NYC (so the New New York episode), but before Christmas of that year.
“It’s more fun to be out there doing it,” Kurt commented, watching the skaters at Rockefeller Center. “Even if it did take a week for the bruises on my ass to go away.” He looped his arm through Blaine’s, inching closer as they leaned on the rail about the rink. Close enough to feel the exhale from Blaine as he leaned in, close enough that the white puffs of their breath mingled.
“Hmm….should’ve worn more layers. Ice skating is one time when I might excuse all your multiple layers, they provide padding when you fall.” Blaine reached over to pat Kurt’s hand where it looped around his own forearm, and had his touch lingered on Kurt’s ring finger? He’d seen the way Blaine zeroed in on his engagement ring when Kurt took his glove off to count out change for their coffees. Had he really doubted whether Kurt was still wearing it?
“Look at that couple in the red coats, they’re really good,” Kurt commented after a few more minutes of watching. He gestured with his cup. The pair settled into side by side sit spins, perfectly synchronized.
“Wonder how many bruises they got learning to do that.”
They watched for a few more minutes, till Kurt realized that he couldn’t feel his toes. He’d opted for fashion over insulation in his footwear today, and was starting to regret it.
“I think we should start moving again, before we freeze to this railing,” he announced. “What else did you want to see on our Second Annual Tour of Christmas in New York?”
“The Saks windows!” Blaine’s trademark grin spread across his face. “They’re supposed to have the Abominable Snowman this year!”
“I’m engaged to a child,” Kurt couldn’t help rolling his eyes even as he laughed. “C’mon then, it’s only a block over.”
Arms still linked and holding their coffees close as they pushed through the crowd, they finally broke free of the people standing at least six deep at the rink’s railing. Try as they might, they couldn’t stay connected on the busy sidewalk, too busy with dodging holiday shoppers and bus tour promoters, street food carts and gawking tourists.
Faced with the choice of colliding head-on with a middle-aged couple who were both too busy looking up to notice where they were going, or letting go of Blaine, Kurt released his fiance and stepped around the rubberneckers, never halting his forward motion. He was halfway down the block before he realized that Blaine wasn’t just hidden behind the group of taller people between them. He stopped, looking around.
He’d noticed Blaine being a little standoffish today...by Blaine standards, that is. In the week since Blaine had moved out of the loft, he’d been back a couple times to have dinner with the group or pick up forgotten items. But today was the first time since agreeing to live apart that they’d gone out together, just the two of them on a date, and something about Blaine was off. It was almost like he was afraid to seem too eager, hesitant to stand too close or initiate contact with Kurt unless Kurt reached out first. Of course, standoffish by Blaine’s standards was still positively cuddly by many other’s standards, but...Kurt knew his fiancé. Only fear would make him hesitate even a split second to reach out for Kurt’s hand, to initiate a hug. In spite of their discussions that they were definitely not breaking up, Blaine wasn’t sure about their relationship.
“Kurt! Over here!”
Damn, his fiancé really needed to grow a few inches. Kurt couldn’t see him at all in this crowd, but followed the sound of his voice, finally spotting him at an artist’s sidewalk display.
“Kurt, we should do this!” Blaine waved him over.
He sighed, wondering how hard he should try to talk Blaine out of this. He approached, hearing the artist start her sales pitch. “You like it? You should get one. Only ten dollars!”
“How much for both of us together?” Blaine asked. He waved Kurt over, but did not, he noticed, grab his hand as soon as he stepped within range. So Kurt took it upon himself to lace their fingers together when he reached him. “Look, Kurt. Isn’t her artwork good?”
It was better than the typical artist doing five-minute sketches at a sidewalk stand, Kurt had to admit. The detail in the shading, the realistic expressions on the subjects’ faces. Most were done in simple black pencil, but a few were in color.
“How much for two?” Blaine asked again.
“Two people, twice as much. Twenty dollars,” the woman answered.
“No way, that’s too much,” Kurt objected. “C’mon Blaine, let’s go. You wanted to see the Saks windows.”
“Kurt, I really want a portrait of us together.” He was still holding his hand, and hadn’t taken a step. “Do you realize we haven’t taken any pictures of us together since I moved to New York? I want a portrait that I can put in my room and tell everyone, that’s me and my fiancé.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted pictures of us,” Kurt replied, softer now. “Why didn’t you say so? We can take all the pictures you want.”
“But now that I’ve seen this, I really want a portrait of us.”
Kurt groaned. “It’s such a touristy thing to do,” he complained.
“Exactly! Years from now we’ll look at this and be reminded of when I was still so new to New York that I felt like a tourist, but we’ll be in our own apartment in the Village, married and living in the city where we’re going to spend our lives. Right?”
The overly earnest look in his eyes, the breathless anticipation of his answer, took Kurt back to the staircase at Dalton and Blaine facing him in a yellow suit, asking the most important question of their young lives. Why did he feel like the question he was being asked now was almost as important?
“Of course we are,” he answered, and Blaine finally relaxed. “No more than fifteen though,” Kurt said to the artist. “We can walk down the street and find ten other artists who will do it for that price.”
“Fine, pick your pose.” She waved at a display board with couples shown in various seating arrangements. Blaine walked over at once to look.
Kurt caught the woman’s arm as she turned away. “I’ll pay you the twenty you asked for if you’ll do something for me,” he said, soft so that only she could hear.
Nearly an hour later, they stood up from the folding chairs where they’d sat mostly unmoving while the artist’s hands had been busy on her sketchpad. Kurt’s toes had gone numb again inside his designer boots and for the last ten minutes even Blaine had been grumbling complaints under his breath.
The artist shook her finger at them. “Special request takes longer.”
Blaine paused in stretching his limbs into mobility again. “What special request?”
Kurt was already looking over the woman’s shoulder as she unclipped the drawing from her easel.
“You like?” she asked.
“It’s perfect.”
“Kurt, what did she mean--” And then Blaine stood beside him, looking at a portrait of the two of them...but not just the two of them. Between them was a small child of indeterminate gender, with wild dark curls and gray-blue eyes. Blaine’s breath caught. “Kurt, that’s...it looks like our kid, like if we really could have a baby together.”
“Yeah. You talked about being in the future and looking back on this day...but I wanted this portrait to show our future.”
“And that’s the future you see for us? We have a kid?”
Kurt nodded automatically, still transfixed by the drawing, before realizing that Blaine hadn’t said anything for a moment.
“That’s okay, isn’t it?” he asked, turning to look at him. “That I asked her to...” He trailed off at the look on Blaine’s face.
“It’s perfect,” Blaine whispered, blinking away tears. “I’m so glad you think about our future and we’re still together, and raising a family.”
“Blaine, honey, we will always be together. I meant what I said last week. You moving out doesn’t mean we’re not still together. We always will be. And one day, yes, I’d like to raise kids with you.”
“Love you,” he whispered, and lifted up for a barely-there kiss, quick on a NYC sidewalk with the Christmas crowd still rushing by.
“Love you too,” Kurt whispered back, before feeling a tug on his coat sleeve.
“Twenty dollars please.”
“It’s more fun to be out there doing it,” Kurt commented, watching the skaters at Rockefeller Center. “Even if it did take a week for the bruises on my ass to go away.” He looped his arm through Blaine’s, inching closer as they leaned on the rail about the rink. Close enough to feel the exhale from Blaine as he leaned in, close enough that the white puffs of their breath mingled.
“Hmm….should’ve worn more layers. Ice skating is one time when I might excuse all your multiple layers, they provide padding when you fall.” Blaine reached over to pat Kurt’s hand where it looped around his own forearm, and had his touch lingered on Kurt’s ring finger? He’d seen the way Blaine zeroed in on his engagement ring when Kurt took his glove off to count out change for their coffees. Had he really doubted whether Kurt was still wearing it?
“Look at that couple in the red coats, they’re really good,” Kurt commented after a few more minutes of watching. He gestured with his cup. The pair settled into side by side sit spins, perfectly synchronized.
“Wonder how many bruises they got learning to do that.”
They watched for a few more minutes, till Kurt realized that he couldn’t feel his toes. He’d opted for fashion over insulation in his footwear today, and was starting to regret it.
“I think we should start moving again, before we freeze to this railing,” he announced. “What else did you want to see on our Second Annual Tour of Christmas in New York?”
“The Saks windows!” Blaine’s trademark grin spread across his face. “They’re supposed to have the Abominable Snowman this year!”
“I’m engaged to a child,” Kurt couldn’t help rolling his eyes even as he laughed. “C’mon then, it’s only a block over.”
Arms still linked and holding their coffees close as they pushed through the crowd, they finally broke free of the people standing at least six deep at the rink’s railing. Try as they might, they couldn’t stay connected on the busy sidewalk, too busy with dodging holiday shoppers and bus tour promoters, street food carts and gawking tourists.
Faced with the choice of colliding head-on with a middle-aged couple who were both too busy looking up to notice where they were going, or letting go of Blaine, Kurt released his fiance and stepped around the rubberneckers, never halting his forward motion. He was halfway down the block before he realized that Blaine wasn’t just hidden behind the group of taller people between them. He stopped, looking around.
He’d noticed Blaine being a little standoffish today...by Blaine standards, that is. In the week since Blaine had moved out of the loft, he’d been back a couple times to have dinner with the group or pick up forgotten items. But today was the first time since agreeing to live apart that they’d gone out together, just the two of them on a date, and something about Blaine was off. It was almost like he was afraid to seem too eager, hesitant to stand too close or initiate contact with Kurt unless Kurt reached out first. Of course, standoffish by Blaine’s standards was still positively cuddly by many other’s standards, but...Kurt knew his fiancé. Only fear would make him hesitate even a split second to reach out for Kurt’s hand, to initiate a hug. In spite of their discussions that they were definitely not breaking up, Blaine wasn’t sure about their relationship.
“Kurt! Over here!”
Damn, his fiancé really needed to grow a few inches. Kurt couldn’t see him at all in this crowd, but followed the sound of his voice, finally spotting him at an artist’s sidewalk display.
“Kurt, we should do this!” Blaine waved him over.
He sighed, wondering how hard he should try to talk Blaine out of this. He approached, hearing the artist start her sales pitch. “You like it? You should get one. Only ten dollars!”
“How much for both of us together?” Blaine asked. He waved Kurt over, but did not, he noticed, grab his hand as soon as he stepped within range. So Kurt took it upon himself to lace their fingers together when he reached him. “Look, Kurt. Isn’t her artwork good?”
It was better than the typical artist doing five-minute sketches at a sidewalk stand, Kurt had to admit. The detail in the shading, the realistic expressions on the subjects’ faces. Most were done in simple black pencil, but a few were in color.
“How much for two?” Blaine asked again.
“Two people, twice as much. Twenty dollars,” the woman answered.
“No way, that’s too much,” Kurt objected. “C’mon Blaine, let’s go. You wanted to see the Saks windows.”
“Kurt, I really want a portrait of us together.” He was still holding his hand, and hadn’t taken a step. “Do you realize we haven’t taken any pictures of us together since I moved to New York? I want a portrait that I can put in my room and tell everyone, that’s me and my fiancé.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted pictures of us,” Kurt replied, softer now. “Why didn’t you say so? We can take all the pictures you want.”
“But now that I’ve seen this, I really want a portrait of us.”
Kurt groaned. “It’s such a touristy thing to do,” he complained.
“Exactly! Years from now we’ll look at this and be reminded of when I was still so new to New York that I felt like a tourist, but we’ll be in our own apartment in the Village, married and living in the city where we’re going to spend our lives. Right?”
The overly earnest look in his eyes, the breathless anticipation of his answer, took Kurt back to the staircase at Dalton and Blaine facing him in a yellow suit, asking the most important question of their young lives. Why did he feel like the question he was being asked now was almost as important?
“Of course we are,” he answered, and Blaine finally relaxed. “No more than fifteen though,” Kurt said to the artist. “We can walk down the street and find ten other artists who will do it for that price.”
“Fine, pick your pose.” She waved at a display board with couples shown in various seating arrangements. Blaine walked over at once to look.
Kurt caught the woman’s arm as she turned away. “I’ll pay you the twenty you asked for if you’ll do something for me,” he said, soft so that only she could hear.
Nearly an hour later, they stood up from the folding chairs where they’d sat mostly unmoving while the artist’s hands had been busy on her sketchpad. Kurt’s toes had gone numb again inside his designer boots and for the last ten minutes even Blaine had been grumbling complaints under his breath.
The artist shook her finger at them. “Special request takes longer.”
Blaine paused in stretching his limbs into mobility again. “What special request?”
Kurt was already looking over the woman’s shoulder as she unclipped the drawing from her easel.
“You like?” she asked.
“It’s perfect.”
“Kurt, what did she mean--” And then Blaine stood beside him, looking at a portrait of the two of them...but not just the two of them. Between them was a small child of indeterminate gender, with wild dark curls and gray-blue eyes. Blaine’s breath caught. “Kurt, that’s...it looks like our kid, like if we really could have a baby together.”
“Yeah. You talked about being in the future and looking back on this day...but I wanted this portrait to show our future.”
“And that’s the future you see for us? We have a kid?”
Kurt nodded automatically, still transfixed by the drawing, before realizing that Blaine hadn’t said anything for a moment.
“That’s okay, isn’t it?” he asked, turning to look at him. “That I asked her to...” He trailed off at the look on Blaine’s face.
“It’s perfect,” Blaine whispered, blinking away tears. “I’m so glad you think about our future and we’re still together, and raising a family.”
“Blaine, honey, we will always be together. I meant what I said last week. You moving out doesn’t mean we’re not still together. We always will be. And one day, yes, I’d like to raise kids with you.”
“Love you,” he whispered, and lifted up for a barely-there kiss, quick on a NYC sidewalk with the Christmas crowd still rushing by.
“Love you too,” Kurt whispered back, before feeling a tug on his coat sleeve.
“Twenty dollars please.”