Chapter One

City Lights

New York City, August 4, 2015

The soft padding of dance shoes on the wooden floor was comforting, in a way. It sounded familiar. Inspiring, almost. Spins, jumps, stretches, and repeat.

Spins, jumps, stretches, and repeat.
Spins, jumps, stretches, and repeat.
Bell, goodbye, people leaving, and alone.

Kurt sighed at the emptiness of the room, feeling relaxed for the first time that day. His life was crammed. With school, homework, his job, and his marriage. Though, the latter was hardly a chore, it still required effort. And neither of them had the energy for that effort lately. When they saw each other, all they would do was go straight to bed and sleep. Which wasn't something Kurt wanted to complain about, he just missed talking to his husband.

Kurt shook his head and concentrated on his feet. His homework was to learn a Widow Maker by tomorrow.
Step
Step
Jump
Spin
Ah shit.

He fell on his ass, yelping in pain and cursing under his breath. He couldn't get this stupid move down for the life of it. How had Rachel made it look so easy? She made everything easy.
No. Not today.
He refused to compare himself to Rachel. Standing, he brushed his pants off and went at it again.
Step
Step
Jump
Spin
Kick
Land
Fuck yes
Kurt jumped and grinned, letting out a shout of satisfaction. He practiced his newfound skill again and again, perfecting and memorizing the move until it was familiar, natural. And when he finished, the sky was dark, and the city was aflame with life and lights.

...

Kurt and Blaine lived in a small, three room apartment, with used furniture and ugly wallpaper. The boys had tried to make it less pitiful with pictures and paintings. Memories and happy times. Yet it stayed commiserative. It was still their own. And it didn't make living together any less bliss.

Kurt opened the door to said apartment around midnight, dropping his bag beside the closet door. He walked into the kitchen, leaning against his spouse, who was making tea.

"Hi."
"Hi.. Long day?"
"Yeah, god, they're making us learn 'Widow Makers' in dance class. It's exhausting."
Blaine turned and wrapped his arms around his boyfriends waist. "Did you get it though?"
"Yes. Only took four hours." Kurt smiled weakly and kissed him softly. Blaine hummed against him.
"I aced my makeup exam." Blaine said as they broke away.
"Yay." Kurt grinned at him. "I mean, I knew you would. You're a genius."
Blaine chuckled and handed him a mug. "So, I think we deserve celebratory naps."
Kurt nodded and took the mug. It was his favorite, adorned with black and white music notes, and little guitars.
"Thank god tomorrow is Saturday." Kurt sighed.
"Mhm. And don't even think about making plans, we're going to see Kinky Boots, and then talking, for the first time in forever."
"For the first time in forever..." Kurt sang, and Blaine laughed.
"Normally, I'd welcome a Disney duet, but I'm beat."

They lay close in their bed, touching, breathing, and listening. Heat beats that needed to be counted, hair that needed to be stroked. Fingers that needed to be laced together. Bodies that needed one another.

Saturday was wonderful, and Sunday was more so. Blaine got to talk to his husband, to rant to him about social issues and whatever, to love him. The business of life taking that away from him so brutally so.
Blaine's life at NYU was endurable, most of the time. Besides the fact that he was away from his husband, and that most of the other guys in his classes were either looking for a fuck, or someone to bully, he liked his classes. And he had made a few friends. The quiet girl in the back named Sarah, and the one and only Dave Karofsky.
Blaine was studying musical theater performance and directory. The classes were hard, and the teachers strict, none quite like Shuester. They cared, sure, but they didn't care. If a student was struggling in their class, they would stay after with them, and help them with the points of weakness. If a student was having trouble at home... Don't ask, don't tell. Blaine was slightly glad that they didn't ask. He didn't have anything against any of his superiors, but he never craved a personal connection with them either. He just wanted to graduate, and then never look back.
"Dude, me and Sarah are gonna watch the game after school today. Do you want to come?" Karofky nudged Blaine.
"Can't. Kurt's helping me with my project for our voice class."
"O-Oh. Can I... Can I come hang with you guys then?"
"Thought you and Sarah had plans?"
"I just remembered that was- was next week. Stupid." The bigger boy laughed awkwardly, but Blaine didn't notice the tension.
"Sure, dude."

...

"It's a low C, if you're looking for a harmony- Hi Dave." Kurt looked up from the sheet music he and Blaine were pouring over and grinned at the boy, who smiled back.
"Hey, Hummel. Haven't seen you in forever."
Kurt smiled and hugged the other boy, who held on for a second too long. Kurt shrugged it off as friendly.
"So, what song've you picked for the assignment?"
"Halsey, Colors." Blaine mumbled, tapping a few keys on the piano. Kurt boosted himself up to perch on the edge of the sleek, black surface.
"Ah."
"It's a love song." Kurt explained. The boy's eyes connected and Dave swallowed, his eyes flicking up and down Kurt's body, earning pink cheeks from the other boy. Kurt was the one to look away first. Blaine didn't notice.
"Oh, okay. Who's your partner?"
"Sarah."
"Hm. I'll just sit in the corner, then. Don't really know much about this stuff..." He shrugged and laughed, sliding into the corner as the married couple chattered away, singing together and laughing. Dave just stared at the smaller boy the entire time, which earned him some glances. But he couldn't pull away.

Dave Karofsky was in love with Kurt Hummel. He had been since sophomore year, when he noticed how cute the way his hips moved when he walked, or how pretty his eyes were, or how insanely hot his ass was.
Dave had tried everything. He told Kurt how he felt, and he got turned down. He dated Kurt's ex to make him jealous, and still nothing. Now, all he had was hopelessly following Blaine around like a lost puppy, just as an excuse to see Kurt. To hear Kurt.

"Dave?" Blaine frowned at him from the piano bench. Karofsky snapped back into reality, flashing a fake smile.
"Yeah Blaine?"
"I asked if you wanted any coffee, I'm making a run."
"Oh, uh. Yeah, decaf, one sugar." Blaine nodded and pecked Kurt's lips, earning a cringe from Dave. He stood and left, leaving Kurt and Karofsky alone.
"So, how's NYU?"
"I'm still in love with you."
Kurt sputtered, his eyes widening in the cutest way. He looked surprised, almost shocked.
God, I want to kiss that look off his face.
"D-Dave.. I'm with.. I'm married.. To Blaine.." Kurt said slowly, tilting his head and looking at the other boy in confusion. This had to be a joke, right? Karofsky dated Blaine. He and Karofsky had never even been a thing to begin with. Still in love with him?
"I know. I don't care. I need you, Kurt." Dave stood, walking over to the soprano as he spoke, who backed up slightly.
"I'm sorry." He spoke in a whisper. "You can't have me."
"Why? Why is he better than me?" Dave whispered back, leaning over Kurt. Kurt felt small. Dave felt powerful.
"Because.. I love him. He's not better than you, he's just better for me." Kurt looked away finally, but Dave stared.
"I could take care of you."
"I'm sure you could."
"Make you feel good."
Kurt's face went bright red and his head snapped up, meeting Karofsky's eyes once more.
"Dave. Back up." He said sternly. The bigger boy realized his position and stepped back, looking bashful.
"I've got coffee!" Blaine announced cheerfully, before stopping and looking between Kurt and Dave. "What?"
"Nothing. We were talking about college." Kurt replied easily. Blaine grinned cluelessly and handed out the drinks.

...

Over the next few weeks, Kurt's phone kept vibrating. Karofsky was texting him, things he had to delete in fear of Blaine finding them. He felt guilty hiding this, but he didn't want Dave to lose Blaine as a friend in well. And Blaine was stressed enough as it was.
-I could take care of you. Make you feel good.
-He makes me feel better than anyone ever could. He makes me feel safe.
-I could make you feel safe.
-Not like he can.
-Give me a chance.
-No.