This was actually a request from a reader after I posted my very first fanfic ever; a short piece that came to me on a drive home while listening to Train's 'Marry Me." Once the idea for a short story about a "Kledding" was in my head, there was no turning back. Now, I think this is my favorite one!
Also, this was written to follow the previous fan fictions written by me, so there are references to other things that have happened only in the stories I wrote and posted over the summer, and do not always follow the show. If you haven't read them, you may want to before reading this. I hope you all enjoy it. It may be my last for a while, as I must work on my novel!
"First and Forever"
"Excuse me?
The dark haired boy that was simultaneously a stranger and the most familiar of all the faces in Kurt's world turned toward the pale boy as he stood on a spiral staircase within Dalton Academy. "Um, hi," Kurt continued, nervously. "Can I ask you a question? I'm new here." The boy reached out for Kurt's hand without hesitation.
"My name's Blaine," said the boy. Kurt felt sure he'd already known that, and yet they'd only just met.
"Kurt," he replied, taking the boy's invitation and shaking his hand. It was warm, and soft. "So, what exactly is going on?" he asked, watching as the sea of bodies in navy blazers cascaded passed the two at the foot of the stairs.
"The Warblers," Blaine answered, enthusiastically. "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the school down for a while."
"So, wait," said Kurt, baffled. "The glee club here is kind of cool?"
"The Warblers are like rock stars," Blaine said in response. Kurt raised his eyebrows, unable to accept that such a thing could be possible. "Come on." The boy again offered his hand. "I know a shortcut." They ran together, fingers locked around the one another's palm, through the empty hallways.
When Kurt woke up, his body still felt as if in motion. Even though he knew he was lying in a soft bed, he could almost feel the air rushing passed his excited face as he and Blaine had hurried towards the first of many firsts they'd share together. Kurt kept his eyes closed, and searched his catalog of memories until the expression on Blaine's face the first time he'd sung for Kurt appeared behind his lids, playing for him like a movie. Well, it had felt like he'd been singing for him, though that had likely just been his perception.
Just then, Kurt felt a gentle tickling on his cheek. It was the scruff on Blaine's chin that caused the sensation. His drowsy lips were searching for something, and Kurt decided to aid them in their quest. Kurt turned his face, and gently kissed the soft flesh of Blaine's lips once. Twice. Three times. When he finally opened his eyes, barley an inch away were the golden brown ones that belonged to his fiancé. They were staring back, now wide awake. Tomorrow, they'd belong to his husband.
"Morning," whispered Kurt, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.
"Morning," Blaine whispered back. "Welcome to your last day as a free man, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt rolled his eyes at that. "Oh please," he protested, "I haven't been free since the moment we met. You had me at," Kurt closed his eyes, thinking back through the years, and to just moments ago, to remember the first words Blaine had ever spoken to him. "My name is Blaine," he blurted out with a laugh.
"Huh," sighed Blaine, looking slightly put out by this statement.
"What?" Kurt asked.
"Well, I just always thought the part that'd hooked you was somewhere around 'skin tight jeans.'" Blaine's fake disappointment vanished to be replaced by the toothy mischievous grin that affected Kurt just as startlingly as the first time he'd seen it.
Kurt laughed more loudly now, and pounced on his love's chest like a kitten at play. "You know how I like my skinny jeans," Kurt teased, leaning down to kiss Blaine again, a little less softly this time, his lips slowly moving down Blaine's neck. Suddenly, Blaine wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt's mid section, and spun him onto his back so that he was the one now pressing on Kurt's chest.
"I know how you like a lot of things," he said seductively.
"Mmmmm," purred Kurt, feeling his heart beginning to race as if he really had just been running. "Tell me more," Kurt commanded, pulling his fiancé's face down close to his with the palm of his hand behind Blaine's neck. Blaine leaned in close, as if about to kiss him again, but he then changed course and moved his mouth beside Kurt's ear.
"I'd rather show you," he breathed. Kurt shuddered, and with a passion that rivaled that of they love sick teenagers they'd once been, the two spent the rest of the morning in bed, not emerging from their hotel room until the kitchen had already begun lunch service.
That evening they were enjoying the company in attendance of their rehearsal dinner, which they'd set up in function room at the hotel they were staying at. The ceremony and reception would be held here as well, the reception taking place in the hotel's ballroom which Kurt had spent the afternoon in, making sure every plan for tomorrow was as foolproof as possible.
As they spent most of their time in New York these days, and hadn't been able to make it out for an engagement party, many of their wedding guests had not seen either of the pair in some time. They'd invited several guests that were not in the wedding party to the pre-wedding event, and they wanted a chance to speak with each of them before the big day tomorrow. Kurt and Blaine had decided on a tasteful cocktail-hour super tonight. The wait staff would weave through the crowd offering an assortment of drinks, appetizers, and deserts, and there was also a fully stocked buffet table in the back of the room. This would allow them to mingle more easily with their closest friends and family than a traditional sit down dinner.
"Mr. Schuster, Mrs. Schuster," Kurt exclaimed, hugging the pair of them in turns, taking care to watch out for Emma's swollen belly. "Another one?" he teased.
"Three's the end of it," assured his former guidance courser. Will kissed her tenderly on the cheek, and rubbed the top of her stomach.
"I can't believe my former students are already getting married," cried Mr. Schuster, clapping Blaine on the shoulder. "First Mike and Tina, and now you two. I feel so old."
"Don't say that," chided Emma. "You've got at least another eighteen years before you can start feeling old."
Blaine's cell phone ran in his jacket pocket. He looked apologetic as he stepped away to answer it, but since they were getting married tomorrow it seemed foolish to keep either of their phones off for any length of time in case they needed to be reached by one of the event coordinators. Since it was Blaine's phone that rang, Kurt didn't worry so much. If it had been a call regarding the flowers, cake, or caterer, it would have been his own phone chiming away urgently.
When Blaine returned to their circle, however, Kurt realized instantly that his lack of panic had been premature. His fiancé's face was crestfallen.
"What?" Kurt asked, his voice even higher pitched than usual.
"That's was Millie, the wife of our justice of the peace. Apparently, he was just in a car accident on his way home. He's okay," Blaine assured quickly when Kurt looked suddenly terrified, "but he, uh," Blaine didn't want to say the words aloud, knowing how much they would upset his future husband. "He broke his leg," Blaine finally got out. "So, he won't be able to marry us tomorrow." Kurt looked searchingly around at the air. Will and Emma exchanged glances, not knowing how they could possibly help.
"Did I hear you say you two are in a matrimonial pickle?" said a familiar but entirely unexpected voice from behind Mr. Schuster. They all turned toward the voice wearing expressions of varying degrees of shock.
"Ms. Sylvester?" said Kurt, making her name into a question.
"Sue, I didn't know you were invited to the wedding," said Mr. Schuster.
"I assume my invite got lost in transit. I don't trust the postal service with my real address, so all of my mail is forwarded to a P.O. Box in Norway under a fake name." She spoke as if such a thing were entirely normal. "Only get out there about once a year."
"It's lovely to see you, coach," said Kurt, still well accustomed to her eccentricities, despite the passing of time.
"Eh, I'd have come anyway for the free shrimp cocktail," she said. "That's not a crack about you both being fellas," she added, "just a delicious, aquatic, delicacy."
"Yes," said Kurt, deciding to finally answer her initial question, rather than comment on anything else she'd said since. "It would appear Blaine and I have no one to marry us tomorrow." Blaine rubbed the top of Kurt's hand with the pad of his thumb, massaging comforting circles into his skin.
"Well," said the cheer coach, raising both hands in the air, "its short notice, but I'd be positively delighted to tie your metaphorical knots."
"Sue, you can't just officiate a wedding ceremony. I know you think the authority vested in you by yourself is sufficient, but-" He stopped speaking, as Sue leaned in toward the top of his head, an expression of scrutiny on her hardened face.
"Will, buddy, you seem to have misplaced your brillo pad collection somewhere around…ah, nope," she said as she leaned back into an upright position. "It's just your hair." She couldn't conceal the slightest flicker of delight from lighting up her eyes. Will scowled at her. Not once in eight years had she let up on the hair jokes. "Listen to me, boys," she said, directing her attention back to Kurt and Blaine. "I happen to have a valid license to wed, which I obtained from one of the alarming number of ordainment websites offering such services. It's how I officiated at my own wedding." Sue got a far off dreamy look one associated with reminiscing over the sweetest of memories.
Blaine looked even more confused than ever as he glanced down at Sue's hands; both of her ring fingers were sporting relatively plain bands. He gave every indication that he was about to say something, but Kurt held out his hand, and placed it on Blaine's chest.
"It's best just not to ask," he muttered.
"Sue?"
"Yes Bambi," said Sue, addressing the doe-eyed ginger woman.
"Why are you offering to help?" Emma asked, cocking her head to one side in suspicion.
"Yes Sue," interjected Will. "Why are you offering to help? It's so…"
"Heroic," she supplied, nodding.
"I was going to say generous," he said, exasperated as he usually was in her presence. "And uncharacteristic," he added. "What's in this for you?"
"As you very well know William, and I'm up for reelection this November."
"Reelection?" Kurt asked despite just having advised Blaine not to question the cheerleading coach. He couldn't help it. His own father had beaten her in a political bid several years ago for state representative, and as far as he was aware there was no office Sue currently held other than the one in McKinley High's athletic wing.
"For Lima police chief volunteer deputy. I was graced with the position four years ago after ten years devoted volunteerism as the head of my neighborhood watch group."
"What's a volunteer deputy," Blaine asked, if possible even more confused than when the tall blond had first begun speaking. He'd never heard of such a title, accept maybe when I police officer makes one up for a small child aspiring to a future career in law enforcement.
"Becky just showed me the latest numbers, and I'm slipping in the polls," said Sue, acting as if she hadn't heard Blaine's query. "This is a great chance for a photo-op to help me lock in the gay vote."
Emma and Will both rolled their eyes, but Blaine turned to Kurt to see where his mind was on this.
"What do you think?" asked Blaine under his breath, eying Sue in his peripheral vision.
Kurt sighed, also glancing at his strange former coach who had been simultaneously friend and relentless foe. Then he smiled.
"I think I want to marry you tomorrow," answered Kurt. Blaine responded with a wide grin, and he bent forward in to kiss his future husband, but his lips missed their mark as Sue wedged herself in the space between them, draping her arm around Kurt.
"Wonderful," she exclaimed. "Porcelain, I am positively lactating with happiness. Now, what sort of payment are we talking about? I'm a celebrity around here, so that comes with a higher price tag than your average, run of the mill J.P." Blaine caught a glimpse of Kurt rolling his eyes before coach Sylvester led him towards the food table for more shrimp.
Kurt stepped over the threshold of his old bedroom, his father bringing up the rear. Kurt and Blaine had decided, in an attempt to hold with certain pre-marital traditions, to spend the last evening before their married life began apart. Kurt would be staying with Burt and Carole, while Blaine was spending the night with his mother. Kurt's room looked no different than it had the last time he'd been there, aside from the layer of dust.
"It's strange," began Kurt. "Even though so much time has passed, a part of me still feels like this is home."
"Hey," said Burt defensively. "I don't care how old you get, kid, you'll always have a home with me."
"Thanks Dad," said Kurt, placating his suddenly emotional father, but he also appreciative that such a thing was true. He was an adult, but he knew a part of him would always want to have his father there when he needed him. For a large chunk of his life, his dad had made up the whole of Kurt's universe. He had been all he'd had, and yet somehow Kurt had still gotten everything he'd needed.
"I wish your mom were here to see this," said Burt, looking at a picture of the once family of three perched on a shelf near his head.
"Me too," said Kurt.
"All she ever wanted from the moment she knew you were comin' was for you to be the happiest child in the world." Kurt smiled lovingly at his father's expression, and then looked towards the sweet heart shaped face of his mother. "You know," Burt continued. "I see so much of her in you, sometimes it feels as though she's not really gone." Burt cleared his throat audibly, seeming determined to maintain some semblance of composure. "I have something for you," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small white box.
Kurt took the box and opened it. Inside, nestled on a pad of white cotton fibers, was a bejeweled pendant approximately the size of an acorn. It was tiny yellow bird.
Kurt reached into the box and gingerly pulled it out. "A canary?" Kurt asked, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.
"It was her favorite," he said. "She used to say, 'they're the color of sunshine, and always have a happy song to sing." Burt eyes looked a million miles away, or more likely about twenty years in the past. "You used to stretch out your chubby little arms as a baby, always trying to reach it on her blouse." He laughed at the memory.
"I did?" Kurt asked, trying desperately to remember though it was impossible for anyone to recall such an early moment in one's life.
"Yep." He patted his son on the shoulder. "I thought maybe you'd like to wear it tomorrow, or carry it with you. Your mom deserves some representation."
"Thank you," he said again. "I'll wear it proudly."
"Goodnight son," said Burt. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight dad." His father closed the door behind him, and Kurt crossed the floor to get closer to the picture. The three of them were clustered together on a checkered picnic blanket. They must have asked a passerby to take the photo. Kurt had been five at the time, and the three of them had spent the day at the park. Kurt remembered how he'd always refused to play in the sandbox with some of the other children for fear he'd dirty his cloths. He also remembered how his mother used to push him on the swings at that park, higher and higher into the air. So high, he felt he could have flown into the sky, just like a bird.
Despite his mother's passing, Kurt had never been one to dwell on such concepts as heaven, or life after death. He believed in the here and now, because he knew that nothing else was certain. Yet, as he held the glittering canary in his hand, he closed his eyes and pictured the fluttering form of its living twin.
Pavarotti, the bird had bonded him with Blaine in his own special way all those years ago. It was the song Kurt had sung as a sorrowful goodbye to his small friend that had opened Blaine's eyes to his true feelings for his now fiancé. Pavarotti's end had been their beginning.
Or had it been his mother's end all along? How had he never known of her liking for the golden songbirds? Had it been her loving hands reaching through the vial that separated them that had nurtured his affections for that canary, nudging him along the path he was meant for? Had she done so to insure Kurt's every happiness would come true, something his father had just sworn was her greatest desire? Perhaps, knowing that his love for Pavarotti was likely an inherited quality, was enough to say she'd played her part.
"Don't worry mom." Kurt touched the glass of the frame, brushing the tip of his index finger over the part that housed his mother face. "Your little boy is happier than you could have ever dreamed possible. You're the only part that missing." Kurt caressed the tiny yellow jewels which clustered together to form the tiny bird in his other hand, before he returned his gaze back to the kind smile that was so resembled his own. As he did, he thought of all how lucky he was to have so many other people in his life to love, and be loved by.
He thought of his father, gruff and yet still so sweet. He thought of Finn and Carole, the unexpected additions that had somehow managed to fit themselves into the empty spaces of their once broken home. He thought of Rachel, and Mercedes, and all of his other dear friends, both old and new. He thought of Blaine, his greatest source of happiness. He missed his mother every day, but his life was so full to the brim with happiness that sorrow often found it did not have any space available to take root. It merely glanced off him before falling away into nothingness.
"Did you make sure the hole you left was small?" he asked aloud. He wondered if it was silly to talk to her this way, but it didn't feel silly right now. He wanted to talk to her more than he'd wanted to in a long time. He always missed her, but in this moment he wanted to thank her, and to assure her that the child she'd left so unwillingly was well. Content. Safe. And most of all, loved.
Kurt opened his mouth and sang to his mother's immobile figure, her arms encircling his younger self, forever there as a reminder of just how much she'd loved him.
Mama you taught me to do the right things
So now you have to let your baby fly
You've given me everything that I will need
To make it through this crazy thing called life
And I know you've watch me grow up
And always wanted what's best for me
And I think I found the answer to your prayers
Kurt turned to walk out the door of his childhood bedroom, gliding along the hall and down the stairs as he crooned about his true love.
And he is good, so good
He treats your little boy like a real man should
He is good, so good
He makes promises he keeps
No he's never gonna leave
So don't you worry about me
Don't you worry about me
Kurt stopped and peered around the corner into the living room. His father was sitting in his easy chair, watching a game on the television. Same as always. He saw that Burt was clutching a picture of his son from a first grade talent show in his burley arms, much like a child clings to a security blanket. Kurt had played snoopy in the class production of A Peanut's Musical, and was perched atop the red roof of the famous canine's dog house. His father's eyes were rimmed in red.
Daddy, there's no way you'll ever lose me
And giving me away is not goodbye
As you watch me walk down to my future
I hope tears of joy are in your eyes
Cuz he is good, so good
He treats your little boy like a real man should
He is good, so good
He makes promises he keeps
No he's never gonna leave
So don't you worry about me
Don't you worry about me
Kurt walked back up the stairs, passing the endless stream of memories old and recent adorning their walls, as he approached his bedroom. Everything changes, and yet nothing changes. Kurt may not have known if heaven existed, but he did believe that true love could never really die. Inherited or earned, accidental or fated, it was eternal.
And when I watch my baby grow up
I'll only want what's best for them
And I hope they'll find the answer to my prayers
Oooooh
He is good, so good
He treats your little boy like a real man should
He is good, so good
He makes promises he keeps
No he's never gonna leave
He noticed a familiar red cardigan likely left hanging on his bedpost for years, a forgotten token from the teenage years Kurt had spent in this room, growing and learning in love with his soul mate. He wrapped the sweater around himself, draping it over his shoulders as if he were being hugged, and he nestled himself into bed.
So don't you worry about me
Mama, don't you worry about me
Don't you worry about me
Don't you worry about me
Kurt looked over at the picture of their senior prom on his nightstand before closing his eyes. He let dreams of his most wonderful memories, and his thoughts of an equally wonderful future ahead, crash over him like waves lapping the shore and carry him through into the night.
Kurt and Blaine were stumbling alone in the parking lot of McKinley High School, their newly received crowns resting lopsided atop their heads. They might have appeared intoxicated to the casual observer, but neither had taken so much as a sip of anything questionable. They were drunk on joy alone.
Kurt could not believe how his biggest fear, that he was going to be called on stage again on prom night, had come true. And yet, it had turned into the best night of his whole life. He looked at his boyfriend's beaming face, and was glad he could share this moment with him. He wanted nothing more than to share all of his important moments with Blaine.
"Where are we supposed to go from here?" Kurt asked as they took a seat on the curb. Blaine had taken care to remove the pink handkerchief that had been neatly folded in his suit jacket pocket and lay it down for Kurt so he wouldn't dirty his rather expensive ensemble. "How do we follow a moment like that?"
Blaine looked momentarily frozen at the question, but he thawed instantly as soon as he'd looked into Kurt's eyes. "We can go wherever you like," he answered with his signature grin. "We could go for a walk, spend the evening wondering aimlessly in reflection." Kurt raised his eyebrows and looked up at the nearly full moon with an expression that confirmed this suggestion had its merits. If there was ever a night for reflection, this was it. "We can go out to the pond, to our favorite spot." Blaine leaned over and grazed the bridge of his nose along Kurt's jaw line. "We could just stay there by the water until the sun comes up." Kurt closed his eyes as Blaine planted a soft kiss on Kurt's cheek. He liked this suggestion better, and he raised his eyebrows even higher as he considered this. "We could even go back to your place and watch a movie until we fall asleep on the couch, if that's what you'd like," said Blaine.
"Hmmm…" Kurt muttered.
On any other night, that would have been his choice, but tonight was too special to simply do what they had always done. Tonight, it felt as though there was magic in the air. Magic that had happened as a result of their love for one another. It sounded cheesy, even just thinking the thoughts in his own head, but that was how it felt to Kurt. If their love could turn so many hearts, and make possible what had taken place tonight, than it was a kind of magic, and there were no limits.
"Or," said Blaine, after he'd allowed Kurt a long moment's contemplation. He'd begun knotting his hands in his lap.
"Or?" prompted Kurt. There was a look in Blaine's eye's he rarely saw there. Was it apprehension?
"Please, don't misunderstand me," Blaine began, making sure to look Kurt directly in the face as he spoke, "I am fine with whatever you want to do, or not do," Blaine shook his head, as if hoping the motion would dislodge the thoughts that were stuck in his mind and allow them to make their way to his waiting mouth. "I don't want you to think that I am in any way expecting something from you, or that I was expecting anything." He was practically stuttering at this point.
Kurt had a sudden inkling that he knew where this was going. "Blaine," Kurt said, adopting a calm tone to reassure his love that he knew he'd never mean Kurt any harm or disrespect. "Just tell me."
Blaine let out a deep breath. "If we decide we'd like to… go somewhere, alone, together, I have a place…" he paused to take in another deep breath, mustering his courage. "I have a place where we could go to…be alone." When Kurt did not look alarmed by this revelation, Blaine continued. "You deserve romance, Kurt." He took his boyfriend's hands and placed them between both of his own. "And romance usually takes some planning," he said grudgingly. "If tonight went a certain way, I didn't want there to be any chance that it would not be everything you'd always wanted it to be." Kurt looked at Blaine's expression of mingled excitement and awkwardness for several seconds, and then Blaine spoke again. "What are you thinking about?" His voice was a plea for mercy.
Kurt was thinking that he could not believe how calm he was by Blaine's proposition. Kurt was thinking that he'd somehow let go of all his fears of intimacy along the way of falling deeper in love with Blaine, and he had not even realized it until this moment. Kurt was thinking that tonight, he wanted nothing more than to make love to Blaine for the first time. He was ready.
"I was thinking…" he said, letting the rest of the sentence linger unfinished in the air for a brief moment as he played with Blaine's hands, tracing patterns across his knuckles with his pinky finger, "we should get a room," he finished.
It was Blaine who balked.
Blaine tossed and turned restlessly in his old bed. He and his mother had spent a lovely evening together catching up and watching a Lana Turner movie on AMC, but they'd said their goodnights hours ago, and Blaine was finding it very hard to stay sleep. Every time he drifted into unconsciousness, he would abruptly awaken again a short while later. Perhaps it was excitement for tomorrow, but Blaine felt it more likely that he simply could not sleep well without Kurt beside him.
Blaine touched the empty space to his left, the space where Kurt belonged, and let out an audible groan. It was silly that he couldn't manage it for one night. After all, he'd spent most of his life sleeping alone. Yet that had all changed years ago, starting with the first night. The night that had lead to their first good morning kiss just after waking in each other's arms, much like the ones they'd shared this very morning. Or was it yesterday morning? "Christ," he thought. What was Kurt going to say when he saw the dark circles under Blaine's eyes at the altar tomorrow?
Blaine rolled over onto his stomach. He buried his face in his pillow and imagined that Kurt was lying next to him, hoping that would help.
Blaine's fought to keep his shaking hands steady as he lit the last candle in their hotel room. There were a dozen or so, and he'd taken an inordinate amount of time lighting them all. He saw the large white bed in his peripheral vision, which had splotches of red across it in the form of scattered rose petals. His stomach tightened, and his cheeks flushed with sudden heat. He took off his jacket, draping it over an armchair before turning to look at Kurt, who was surveying the room.
"What do you think?" he asked, trying to sound relaxed. "Is it everything you ever wanted?" He was staring very intently at Kurt's face now, looking for any flicker of apprehension, any sign of discomfort. There was none.
"You," Kurt said as he closed the distance between them with one small stride and lay his arms over Blaine's shoulders, "are everything I've ever wanted. The rest is just gravy."Kurt smirked, and Blaine let the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in out of his lungs in relief. It came out a little more haggard than he'd expected. His throat was tight. He needed something to drink.
Blaine saw a pitcher of water sitting on a desk the color of cherry and he quickly ducked out of Kurt's embrace after gesturing with his chin to go and pour himself a glass. He took a sip, and then offered some to Kurt. His boyfriend shook his head while removing his own jacket, and he placed it on top of Blaine's.
"Blaine?" Kurt asked.
"Yeah?" he replied, throat still tight.
"You spent a lot of time worrying about what I needed tonight," Kurt said. Blaine took a another rather large gulp of the liquid. It didn't seem to be helping. "What about what you need?"he asked, a look of scrutiny crossing his features.
"What do you mean?" He couldn't fully comprehend what Kurt was asking at the moment. His head was spinning.
"You look nervous," he responded, slowly moving closer to Blaine again, the way a bird watcher approaches their skittish target.
"I'm not," Blaine lied. Kurt's eyes were a little too sympathetic for Blaine's liking. He didn't want Kurt to think he was insecure. More than that, he didn't want to feel insecure. He'd never expected this.
"Are you sure that you're…ready?" Kurt reached out and tucked a solitary curl behind Blaine's ear. It had sprung free from the rest during their evening's escapades on the dance floor.
"Yes," said Blaine as emphatically as he could manage. Kurt smiled softly, and Blaine could tell he was not convinced. "I am," he continued, "it's just that…"
"Just what?" Kurt asked, coaxingly.
"I guess," he began, knotting his fingers together so tightly he cut off their circulation. "It may sound strange, but I guess in my heist to not be presumptuous I never actually thought about it being tonight." Blaine sat on the very edge of the bed, and rested his face in his hands. He felt Kurt take a seat beside him, and he raised his head to look at him. "I just need a minute to let my head catch up to my heart," he assured.
Kurt looked down at Blaine more lovingly than he could ever remember him doing so, which was a remarkable thing in and of itself as Kurt had always been very generous with his affection. He leaned over and kissed Blaine's forehead, and Blaine closed his eyes, letting himself fully experience the sensation of Kurt's touch. Kurt moved to his temples, kissing each of them. Left first, then right. He kissed the very tip of Blaine's nose, and then he pressed his lips to Blaine's lips. Once. Twice. Three times. When his boyfriend leaned away, Blaine opened his eyes and stared back into the vast ocean of Kurt's blue ones. The way the candle light flickered within them gave the appearance that they contained endless waves within them, rolling toward the shore.
"Do you remember what you said to me when we talked about our first time, and I told you I was afraid?" Blaine nodded to indicate that he did, remembering their conversation in Kurt's room months ago. "You were right," Kurt said, taking Blaine's hand in his again. He traced the lines on Blaine's palm, brushing along his boyfriend's lifeline with his index finger. "Now that we're here, and it's right, I'm not scared."
Blaine let out another slightly strangled breath, and fixed his stare on Kurt's fingers rather than his face.
"Not even a little?" he asked softly.
"No," Kurt answered, just as quietly. His fingers weren't shaking. There was no sign of dishonesty in his tone. Kurt was a terrible liar, so he must have been telling the truth.
"Why do you think that is?" Blaine asked.
"Because I know that you love me," he replied simply.
"So much," said Blaine. It was true. He loved Kurt more than he'd ever thought it possible to love another person.
"And I know you'll never hurt me."
"Never," he breathed. He'd rather die.
"I know I can trust you. You will always protect me, protect my heart."Blaine looked up and met Kurt's reassuring gaze. He felt the small amount of apprehension and hesitation that had been binding him trickle out of him, expelling itself through his pours and away from them.
"And I trust you," Blaine said, his throat no longer dry or blocked. "Completely."They moved toward one another, their lips meeting once more. Blaine placed both of his hand around Kurt's neck, indicating he had no intention of parting from him this time. Kurt hunched forward, guiding the two of them towards the pillows. Kurt's weight on top of him felt like security. Like he'd become gravity itself.
Blaine's head touched the soft cloth of the pillowcase, and when he was supported, he allowed his hands to release their hold on Kurt's neck. He momentarily wove his fingers through the ends of Kurt's hair, and then moved them down slowly to the small of his boyfriend's back, gripping the fabric of his shirt to untuck it from his pants. When it was loosened, Blaine caressed up and down the length of Kurt's skin under the shirt, soft and warm beneath his hands.
Kurt raised himself upward slightly, allowing Blaine to lift the shirt over his head. He stared into Blaine's face for a full five seconds, the same assured expression still adorning his beautiful features. Blaine marveled at the strength of his lover. No longer was he the boy who had been so uncomfortable with his own naïve perceptions of physical love. No longer was he the boy who had confessed his apprehension when it came to exploring the realms of intimacy within their relationship. Before him was a man who knew what he wanted. Blaine felt immeasurably lucky to be just that.
He felt as though love for Kurt had replaced everything in him. It had replaced all the air in his lungs. Replaced all of the blood in his veins. This feeling was his life force now. It made him who he was, and who he'd always be.
The fingers of Blaine's left hand curled into his pillow, squeezing it tightly as he dreamed. Several miles away, Kurt's hand mirrored the action. The two spent the rest of the evening before their wedding sleeping soundly, at peace.
The next day, Kurt awoke early. His alarm wasn't set to go off for more than two hours, but the idea of attempting to go back to sleep was laughable. He decided to head out now, leaving his father a note that he'd taken his car to check on how things were going at the hotel. He was a perfectionist to say the least, and if it was being done right the staff would have started setting up by now.
He arrived in the parking lot, opened the back door of his father's hatchback, and slung his garment bag over his shoulder. There were only a few other cars around. The hotel guest vehicles were parked in a garage by a valet, possibly the only place in this town that actually had such a position on their staff.
He noticed a man sitting alone in his dark colored S.U.V. His hands were on the steering wheel as if he were about to drive away, but the engine was off. Kurt felt a twist in his stomach as he realized he recognized this man. He paused for a moment, and then approached the idle car.
People who did not know Blaine or his father well would have said the two looked very similar. They had the same dark curls, the same chin and stature, the same full lips, and the exact same shape to their eyes. Only the color was different. The golden toned hazel of Blaine's eyes had come from his mother.
Kurt however, who knew Blaine better than anyone, could see nothing but their differences. For one thing, Blaine's lips where usually spread wide in a smile. His father looked like he had not smiled in years. Blaine eyes were wide, and generally full of light and happiness. The man Kurt was fast approaching had empty, lifeless eyes. They seemed like blackened tunnels, ready to suck anyone who got too near into their miserable depths.
He took a quick breath, bracing himself. "Hello Mr. Anderson," he said into the open window.
Blaine's father looked up at him, startled. "Oh," he breathed, and then looked back out his front windshield. "Hello Kurt." He spoke in a formal tone. Brisk. Impersonal.
"You remembered my name," he said with raised eyebrows. "Six years is a long time, I thought you might have forgotten."
"Yes, well. It's nice to…" Apparently he couldn't finish the sentiment.
"You're dressed up," Kurt observed, noting Mr. Anderson's dark gray suite. "Going someplace special today?" he asked.
"You're not going to make this easy at all, are you?" Mr. Anderson asked, dropping all pretenses.
"You think I should?" Kurt retorted.
"I saw the announcement in the paper," he explained. "There wasn't a time listed."
"I see," nodded Kurt. "My father put it out. As you can imagine, he's very happy for us. Just couldn't wait to tell everyone in town." Mr. Anderson said nothing. He had not looked up at Kurt once since he'd been shocked by his abrupt appearance at his carside.
Kurt pursed his lips in contemplation of the situation he now faced. Blaine had told him on more than one occasion that he'd long since put his pain over his father's rejection and abandonment behind him. It was buried in the realms of his sub consciousness now, barely noticed or acknowledged.
Yet here he was, suddenly reappearing on the day of his son's wedding. He was ready to pick at the scars he'd left on Blaine, reopening those old wounds on what should be the happiest day of Blaine's life. Despite the cool and collected exterior he presented at the moment, this made Kurt furious to contemplate.
But he could not make this decision for Blaine. If his father was going to truly try and reconcile with him, Kurt would have to leave it up to his future husband exactly how he would like to handle the situation. However, Kurt was not going to just step aside for Mr. Anderson. He would not stand idly by while this man just walked back into Blaine's life, today of all days. Kurt would be certain of a few things before this went any further. He would protect his love's heart at least that much.
"My dad put that announcement out over three months ago," Kurt advised, having received a clipping in the mail from Carole. "Why did you wait until now to attempt to contact him?"
Mr. Anderson was silent for a long moment. Then he said "isn't it enough that I'm here now?"
"No." There was no inflection in his tone. No incredulity, just the blunt truth. Mr. Anderson's face lips tightened, but he otherwise had no further reaction. After a few seconds, Kurt sighed and decided on a different approach. "Blaine and I are getting married," he began. "We are going to stand before all our friends and loved ones, people who support us one hundred percent, and we are going to be married." Mr. Anderson still said nothing. "If you are ready to be one of those people, to attempt and fix what you broke and try and have some sort of relationship with Blaine, then I will go and find him right now. In the mean time I will go inside, and I'll do whatever I have to do to postpone this wedding."
Mr. Anderson finally looked up at this announcement, confusion coloring his hardened features.
"I will postpone this wedding because whether it's today, or any other day, our wedding is going to be about us. About Blaine, and myself. Not you." He spoke the last word with great emphasis. "I can't promise Blaine will be willing, but I don't know that he won't either." Now that he'd made eye contact, it seemed Mr. Anderson could not look away from Kurt's rather piercing gaze. "Are you ready to do that?" he asked. "To apologize for all of the pain you caused him. To love him and support him, the way you should have done all along. To support us?" He'd looked almost in agreement until that last part. His lips twitched ever so slightly, and Kurt could tell with that small gesture that the wedding would go on today as planned.
"That's what I thought," he muttered, nodding again. "Goodbye, Mr. Anderson," he said. He began to walk away, but then turned back just as Blaine's father was starting his engine. "You know," he said, looking at him with mingled disappointment and disgust, "Blaine and I intend to start a family someday, and when we do your son will be ten times the father you are." Mr. Anderson looked both angry and ashamed, a strange combination that left his features contorted and slightly grotesque. "Because least of all the wonderful things Blaine will do for his children, they will never once question whether or not either of their dads love them." Kurt turned his back on the man again, forcing himself to begin forgetting all about him before he'd even reached the front door.
Kurt was in his dressing room several hours later, readying himself for the ceremony. He sat in front of the generously lit vanity, applying the finishing touches to his hair. He'd actually been very nearly ready quite a while ago thanks to his early start, but he was far too anxious to sit still, so he kept making unnecessary adjustments.
He wasn't anxious out of hesitation or fear. Just the opposite in fact. He wanted the time to fly. He wanted to see Blaine looking at him as they stood at the end of the aisle and swore to love one another until their dying day. He heard a soft knocking as he reached for a pair of tweezers, about to pluck out a solitary eyebrow hair that had a tiny kink in it.
"Come in," he called.
"I think you'd be very unhappy with me if I did that," said Blaine's voice from behind the door.
"Blaine!" Kurt cried, running toward the door. "We're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony." Even as he said the words, he was fighting the urge to fling open the door and throw his arms around Blaine's neck.
"See being the operative word," he informed. "I don't think there's a rule regarding the other senses." The door remained firmly shut.
"Is there a problem? Is Sue making any more demands? I made sure she got those Norwegian cookies she asked for in her dressing room." The cheer coach had presumed that she'd need a room to ready herself the same as the grooms and wedding party. Becky had delivered a list of things she'd require in this said room about an hour after Kurt had gotten there. "And the fondue machine," Kurt continued. "Luckily, Brittany came through and let me borrow hers."
"No, there's no problem," Blaine answered. "Everything is running perfectly, I promise. There was a brief pause. "I just missed you." Kurt touched his hand to his chest, over his heart. "Sorry," Blaine muttered, "I couldn't resist just coming by to say hello."
"I've missed you too," Kurt said, reaching out and touching the door with his hand.
There was silence between them for a while. Then Blaine broke it.
"I'm the happiest man alive," he whispered.
"Ditto," Kurt whispered back.
"I'm going to go finish getting ready now," Blaine called out. "Meet you at the altar, Swayze."
Kurt chuckled. All distress over Blaine's father's appearance and disappointing departure had been forgotten. Blaine was happy. Kurt was happy. That was all that mattered.
Blaine was in his dressing room a short while later. He was straightening the white silk tie he'd just put on in front of the full length mirror propped next to the window, the finishing touch to his suave black and white tux, which to Kurt's insistence had long draping tails. He assumed Kurt had meant it to look like something straight out of an old-world musical, but he felt more like a Disney-esc prince than Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly. He supposed that was good all the same.
Blaine dropped his arms to his side, and smiled. He knew he should feel nervous. It was supposed to be the natural reaction to impending matrimony. But, just as his knowledge of Kurt's unconditional love and trust had rid him of his nerves the first time they had made love, it protected him from such emotions now. It was Kurt he was marrying, after all. How could he fear this commitment? The time before their "I do's" could not come fast enough.
In his adjoining room, Kurt had given up on altering his appearance any further. He was pacing now. He imagined Blaine would be nearly through getting ready, and he smiled to himself at the thought of how dashing his prince would look in his suit. Theirs was truly a love story straight out of a fairytale. They'd rescued each other, and would continue to do so. Always.
Blaine leaned against the window frame, staring out at the sun hovering lower in the sky, about to kiss the horizon. He thought of Kurt in the other room, and felt a joy glowing inside of him.
Blaine: I hadn't anyone
Till you
Kurt: I was a lonely one
Till you
Blaine: I used to lie awake and wonder
If there could be
Kurt: A someone in this wide world
Just made for me
And now I see
Blaine: I had to save my love
Both: For you
Blaine: I never gave my love
Till you
And through my lonely heart demanding it
Kurt: Cupid took a hand in it
I hadn't anyone
Both: Till you
Kurt and Blaine, though in different rooms, began to dance to the beat of the song in their hearts as if their other half were somehow in their arms. Their feet stepping in time with the strings, their hearts beating in time with the horns. When they stopped, they each gazed out the window at the nearly setting sun.
Kurt: And through my lonely heart demanding it
Blaine: Cupid took a hand in it
I hadn't anyone
Both: Till you
Rachel and Mercedes stood on either side of the altar, wearing flowing black and white dresses that stopped just below the knee. They'd been escorted by Finn and Mike, who also stood at the altar. Wes was standing up for Blaine as his best man, and Burt was standing up for his son.
Sue was already in position at the aisle center, towering over the rest on a raised pulpit that had not been either of the groom's intention. She was wearing what appeared to be a silky fitted "formal" track suit, if such a thing were even possible. She'd fashioned a minister's collar around her neck, which had some of the wedding guests whispering furiously. She touched her ear, and began to speak into a barely visible earpiece.
"Becky," she said, "What's the ETA on Liberace and George Takei? I've got an extreme taxidermy competition in three hours."
"They're on their way, coach," said Becky Jackson into Sue's ear through her own earpiece. Then, the little blond was nothing more than a blur as she bolted from a door in the back of the room toward her seat in her seat in the front row next to Carole, who sat next to Blaine's mother.
Neither Kurt nor Blaine would be walking down a solitary aisle. They each would walk out one of the side doors down their own aisle in front of the first row of chairs, and meet each other at the altar, just as promised. This was the only real variation they'd made from tradition. The vows they'd exchange would be the same vows that generations of couples in love had spoken to one another.
Blaine and Kurt opened the doors in sync with one another as the violin music flourished through the room, and they began the short walk toward the place where the waiting wedding party stood. They beamed at each other, words not necessary to covey how they were feeling. They reached out both of their hands, and held them tightly, the touch like a physical relief after their time apart. Sue cleared her throat, and began to address the crowd.
"Dearly...well, not beloved. I don't know half of the people in this room, and the other half I do know, I don't like so much."
Will, Emma, and Shannon all rolled their eyes, but were hardly surprised. Neither Kurt nor Blaine looked as though they'd taken in a word. They merely stared into one another's eyes.
"We are gathered here today to join these two people in matrimony. Now, normally I don't condone marriage between two," the room held its breath collectively for a heartbeat, unsure if they were about to hear something hateful come out of this odd and abrasive woman's mouth, "people," she continued. The collective breath was released. Most were confused, but they listened eagerly all the same. "In this case though, I think I'll make an exception." Kurt smiled warmly at Sue, and she returned the gesture before clearing her throat and turning to face his almost-husband. She opened her mouth to speak, but then stared at the shorter of the two for several seconds, at a loss.
"Blaine," he said, prompting the cheer coach with his name, which she'd clearly forgotten.
"Right," she said. "You're up, so repeat after me."
Blaine parroted her words in a more fervent tone than Sue was likely capable of as he slid a ring onto Kurt's pale ring finger. Kurt did the same, and they squeezed each other's palms to express in their own silent language just how excited they were to be pledging themselves to the other.
The ceremony came to a close quickly, neither of the grooms having had any desire to draw out the time. There were times that called for patience, and this was not one of them. "Do you Blaine, take Porcelain here to be your husband? To have, and to hold, for richer, or for poorer, in sickness, and in heath, till death do you part?" Sue asked.
"I do," he breathed. Neither of the two looked beyond tears at this point.
"Porcelain," Sue said, nodding at Kurt, as it was his turn to solidify his bond to the man before him. "Do you take Blaine to be your husband? To have, and to hold, for richer, or for poorer, in sickness, and in heath, till death do you part?
"I do," he said, a tiny squeak slipping into his voice as he tried to remain composed through his jubilation.
"Well then, by the power vested in me by , I know pronounce you husband, and husband. You may-"
They didn't wait for Sue's permission to kiss one another. They flung their arms around each other so fast it was likely to give them whiplash. A tumult of cheers erupted from the people in the room, nearly silent until then accept for the occasional sniffle. The wedding party around them applauded, Rachel, Mercedes, and Burt all wiping tears away from their cheeks. Family and friends from both sides joined together, and hugged one another in celebration. Members of their former glee clubs from both of their old schools shouted their congratulations by way of bellowing cat calls and raised fists. Puck wolf whistled.
Sue pressed the center button of a small remote she held in her hand, and flower petal confetti exploded from two canons on either side of the podium, which had been strategically hidden by wedding decorations.
"Now, Becky!" she instructed, and while Blaine and Kurt were still wrapped in either's embrace, Becky sprang from her chair beside the two weeping mothers. The little blond snapped a picture of the pair with Sue perched front and center, a winning smile plastered on her face.
Finn stepped up to the microphone. He had to hunch over so that he was nearly bent double, as it had been preset to Rachel's height.
"Hello," he said, trying to look the least awkward he could manage in his present position. "Can everyone please put their hands together, and welcome the happy couple? Introducing, for the first time ever, the Anderson-Hummels!" he bellowed. There was another immediate uproar of applause as the husbands crossed the threshold of the reception hall hand in hand. Their white gold bands, now a permanent accessory, shone brightly as the spotlight hit them.
Finn had backed away from the microphone, and in his place was a short familiar brunette. A fanfare of piano music with string accompaniment filled the air as the newlyweds lead one another to the dance floor. Right on cue, they two began to waltz across the floor as Rachel's voice joined the instruments.
It only happens
When I dance with you
That trip to heaven
'till the dance is through
With no one else do the heavens seem quite so near
Why does it happen dear
Only with you?
Blaine had shared many dances with the man in his arms now, a few of which stood out clearly in his mind as he took in the lyrics. And yet, they had all been enough to make him feel this way, the way the song described. He always felt the same rush of joy, the same bliss. He relished the knowledge that that bliss would never leave him now. He'd have it, and Kurt, forever.
Two cheeks together
Can be so divine
But only when those cheeks
Are yours and mine
I've danced with dozens of others
The whole night through
But the thrill that comes with spring
When anything could happen
That only happens with you
Ding, ding, ding, ding
The sound of several metal utensils touching crystal glasses rippled through the air, and they obliged their guests by touching lips as the music drifted to a close.
Rachel approached the happy couple as they strode toward the head table for dinner.
"That was flawless, as always," Kurt said, appreciatively.
"It was easy to get into the spirit of the song," she said, smiling softly at their glowing happiness. "Especially in this setting," she added. "This place looks marvelous, Kurt. You've really outdone yourself. It's just like the ballroom in Easter Parade."
"Well, as this is the wedding of two gay men, we had no choice but to pay homage to Judy. Otherwise they'd revoke our memberships."
Rachel giggled and kissed each of their cheeks before heading up and taking her seat beside Finn. They dined on pouched salmon in a white wine sauce, paired with a delicious bubbly Champaign with fruit accents. Kurt took a bite from the strawberry that had been bobbing in his glass, and savored the flavor on his tongue.
When the meal had ended, Finn returned to the mike along with Wes, Rachel, and Mercedes. "Okay everyone," said Kurt's tall stepbrother, "it's now time for the mother-son dance."
Blaine led his excited mother by the hand onto the dance floor, and Kurt stood too. He walked several paces to where Carole sat beside his father, and held out his hand.
"May I have this dance?" he asked.
Carole looked moved beyond the ability to speak, and Burt smiled up at his son. She took Kurt's hand and stood up, taking a moment before they followed his husband's path to smooth the non-existent wrinkles of Kurt's tuxedo jacket, a true mother. She straightened Kurt's canary pin, and looked up at him with moisture in her eyes.
"Thanks mom," he whispered. His gratitude was for both of them.
The band began to play when both pairs were ready, and Finn and Wes took lead while Rachel and Mercedes backed them up. The boys began to move their mothers across the floor.
Finn: We get it on most every night
when that moon is big and bright
it's a supernatural delight
Everybody's dancing in the moonlight
Wes: Everybody here is out of sight
They don't bark and they don't bite
they keep things loose, they keep it tight
Everybody's dancing in the moonlight
Both Dancing in the moonlight
Everybody's feeling warm and bright
it's such a fine and natural sight
everybody's dancing in the moonlight
Their guests joined them on the dance floor then, and Carole passed Kurt off to his father after giving them each a kiss. She quickly found a new partner in the form of Mr. Schuster. Emma sat in her chair at their table, cheering and clapping to the beat from the sidelines as her belly was far too large to attempt joining the fun herself. Burt's terrible moves and utter lack of rhythm made it clear that a love for canaries was not the only thing Kurt had gotten from his mother.
Finn: We like our fun and we never fight
you can't dance and stay uptight
it's a supernatural delight
Everybody was dancing in the moonlight
Both: Dancing in the moonlight
everybody's feeling warm and bright
it's such a fine and natural sight
everybody's dancing in the moonlight
We get in on most every night
and when that moon is big and bright
it's a supernatural delight
everybody's dancing in the moonlight
Blaine's mother cut in then, allowing her son to dance with his husband while she and Burt boogied exuberantly. Finn led Rachel onto the floor, allowing Mercedes and Wes to finish up. Blaine and Kurt laughed, and kissed, and laughed some more, dancing through the rest of the song and the reception with their loved ones.
Mercedes and Wes: Dancing in the moonlight
everybody's feeling warm and bright
it's such a fine and natural sight
everybody's dancing in the moonlight
Dancing in the moonlight
everybody's feeling warm and bright
it's such a fine and natural sight
everybody's dancing in the moonlight
The night passed quickly, and before they knew it midnight arrived. They said their goodbyes to as many as their loved ones as they could manage, and met the limo waiting for them in front of the hotel already containing their luggage. They had a bit of a ride ahead of them to the airport, and did not waste much of the first half of their journey with talking.
"Now that we're on our way, can I finally know where we're going?" Blaine asked when they'd stopped long enough to catch their breath. Both of their tuxes were in various states of disarray, their jackets long since abandoned now rested on top of one another on the adjacent seat.
"You can try and guess," Kurt said, the coy smile he was so good a producing spread wide across his lips.
"I have been trying, nonstop, for six months!" Blaine cried.
"Yes, but as I've flat out refused to even acknowledge that I was being spoken to on those occasions, any previous speculations you may have made hardly count as guesses."
Blaine scowled, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Bermuda?" he guessed after a few moments, without much enthusiasm.
"Really?" Kurt asked. "You think I'd display such a lack of creativity?"
"Alaska?" he tried again, taking a different approach.
"Yik," he protested, making a repulsed face. "A little too creative, and nowhere near our destination" he shot down. Blaine looked searchingly into the air. "I'll give you a hint," Kurt whispered. "The cabarets and bistros, where the writer or artiste goes…"
Blaine looked confused for only a brief moment before his face lit up. "Are as much a part of Paris as La Tour Eiffell!" He must have watch Victor Victoria dozens of times with Kurt through the years. "We're going to Paris?" he exclaimed.
"It is gay Paree, after all," Kurt said. Blaine kissed him again in his excitement. "It's also the city of love, which is perfect for us."
"Perfect," Blaine whispered.
And they live happily ever after.
Songs:
Mama's song- Carrie Underwood (altered)
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I hadn't anyone Till you- Frank Sinatra
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It only happens when I dance with you-Judy Garland
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Dancing in the Moonlight-Toploader
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