It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear
She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair
And then she asks me, "do I look all right?"
And I say, "Yes, you look wonderful tonight"
Blaine had never really figured out why Kurt took so long to get ready almost every time they went out. Even after five years together, one of those being as husbands, the amount of time Kurt spends picking out clothes and getting styled is still as much of a mystery to him now as it was back in high school. He can remember countless date nights where he'd spent the first part of the evening waiting with Burt downstairs, Kurt having yelled "Be down in five!" at least fifteen minutes ago.
And every time, date after date, year after year, Blaine says the same thing, tentatively pushing the door open and stepping inside.
"Kurt? We need to go now or else we'll be late."
Kurt huffed in the mirror, running his hands self-consciously down the front of his pants, the fourth pair he'd tried on if the discarded ones on the bed were any indicator, before he turned to face Blaine.
"I just… ten more minutes, Blaine. I think I can get my hair right if you just give me ten more minutes."
"We're supposed to be meeting Rachel now. You know how she gets if we leave her waiting," Blaine said gently.
And Blaine knows gentle is the only way to approach Kurt in this state. Even though they're just going to some frat-esque NYADA house party, and the only people who are going to even see them tonight are going to be boozed up college kids, Blaine knows Kurt is still… specific about how he looks- always criticizing himself in new pants, or poking at his skin in the reflection of storefront windows on the street.
Blaine also knows it gets even worse when he's feeling stressed. Yes, Kurt cares deeply about fashion and his appearance regardless, but when his anxiety is getting the best of him, like tonight evidently, he focuses all his nervous energy into meticulously picking out, and apart, every tiny detail in his look.
Blaine leaned against the door frame and watched as Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth.
After one more spin in the mirror, Kurt turned to face his husband.
"I just… Do I look alright? This is the first party of the year, and I know I shouldn't care, and I don't exactly, but it's also the first time we'll be seeing everybody since getting married, and I just.. I know how they talk, and I wond-"
Kurt's rambling was cut off as Blaine took the few short strides over to where he was standing, still scrutinizing himself in the mirror, and gave him an easy kiss. After a few seconds, he pulled back and offered a soft smile, watching as some of Kurt's anxiety ebbed away just a bit before he turned them around so they were both facing the full-length mirror again, looking earnestly at Kurt's reflection, waiting until Kurt finally made eye contact back.
"You look wonderful tonight, Kurt," Blaine said softly.
Kurt turned around and offered a grateful smile at Blaine before straightening out his bowtie and returning the compliment.
We go to a party and everyone turns to see
This beautiful lady that's walking around with me
And then she asks me, "do you feel all right?
And I say, "Yes, I feel wonderful tonight"
Blaine had figured that the NYADA students talked after he had left school that previous September. The only thing these kids were better at than brutally competing for leads or solos was gossiping. And Blaine knew dropping out of NYADA had been some of the juiciest they had had since Allison Hills was caught cheating with the new Theory of Composition adjunct professor during finals week the year before.
He also figured the students had learned about his and Kurt's break up… and marriage.
But as the night went on, it became apparent to Blaine that if the guys knew Kurt was off the market, they sure weren't acting like it.
Blaine knew Kurt was considered a bit of a hot-shot among the NYADA boys (and a few of the girls, as rumor had it), but the way they were flirting it up with his husband every chance they got seemed like overkill, even for them.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered to him that he should be mad. Or jealous, at the very least. And for a brief moment, there was a flicker of that old insecurity. Over not being the one everybody was fawning over. Over the fear of judgment, or not being good enough.
Over the thought of losing Kurt to one of these guys- a guy who had thick hair and at least two inches on Blaine, and didn't flunk out of school.
"Here you go, my good sir."
Blaine looked up and saw Kurt sauntering towards him, two fresh drinks in his hand, one offered out to Blaine and the other already half empty. And just like that, the insecurity blinked away even quicker than it had arrived.
There were two guys standing over by the drink table where Kurt had just come from, still gazing obviously in Kurt's direction. But it was lost on Kurt, who was already a little tipsy if his giggle-turned-hiccup was anything to go by.
"Hey, you. We should dance," he whispered into Blaine's ear, as he leaned into him and grabbed his waist.
Blaine reached for his husband's hand, feeling the cool metal of Kurt's wedding ring press against his palm before brushing some of the hair that had broken loose of hairspray out of his face, looking into Kurt's eyes.
And in that moment, they could have been the only people in the room. Fuck, they could have been the only people in all of New York, because Kurt let out another soft laugh and blushed pink before lacing their fingers together; and Blaine couldn't remember ever feeling so right.
"Blaine?" Kurt inquired. "What's…. Do you feel alright?"
Blaine came out of his daze just a bit, looking up at his husband, and letting a laugh that had nothing to do with the cup of cheap liquor he had been sipping twenty minutes earlier bubble out of him.
"Yeah, Yeah. I feel wonderful tonight. Come on- I think I remember you said something about dancing?"
It's time to go home now and I've got an aching head
So I give her the car keys and she helps me to bed
And then I tell her, as I turn out the light
I say, "My darling, you were wonderful tonight"
The evening turned out to be a success. Between catching up with old friends he hadn't seen since transferring to NYU, watching Rachel (drunkenly) dance with a few of her and Kurt's classmates, and spending the night glued to his beautiful, wonderful, amazing husband's side, Blaine was feeling great.
At least until his third cup of jungle juice caught up to him.
"Whoa, whoa there. Take it easy," Kurt laughed as he secured his arm tighter around his husband's side, keeping him upright as Blaine stumbled, guiding them to the couch near the entryway.
"Kurttt. My head hurts," Blaine pouted, leaning into Kurt's chest as the settled down on the sofa.
"Mm. Yeah, drinking too much of whatever mystery liquid was in that disgusting communal punch bowl combined with dancing until you trip over yourself will do that to a person," Kurt said, shooting him what was supposed to be a patronizing look before blowing his cover and laughing into Blaine's hair.
"I've got some Advil and a hot bath waiting for you at home if you're ready to head out," Kurt offered, rubbing soothing circles into Blaine's back.
Blaine managed to nod weakly before he felt Kurt shift around and get up from underneath him, presumably to go find Rachel.
Next thing Blaine knew, they were back out onto the cool city street. Rachel successfully hailed a cab (far too loudly for Blaine's now pounding head) and they clamored inside, pine-scented air freshener doing nothing to ease the slight nausea Blaine was beginning to feel. Seventeen blocks later, Rachel was popping out of the taxi, tossing some money at the driver and bidding the boys a goodnight, punctuated with a sloppy kiss on Kurt's cheek.
"Gross," Kurt muttered to Blaine as the car door slammed shut.
Blaine huffed out a laugh in reply, closing his eyes and leaning onto Kurt's shoulder, only to be shaken awake what seemed like moments later.
"Thank you, have a good night," Kurt said to the driver, paying his and Blaine's fare before helping him out of the taxi and back up into their apartment.
Once inside, Kurt proved true to his word and offered Blaine both Advil and a bath, which Blaine took graciously. He took his time getting the stench of cheap beer off him and let the pain killers ease the throbbing in his head while he sobered up in the warm water. Once the tub went from comfortably hot to lukewarm, he let Kurt help him step out of the tub.
After drying off and changing into soft pajamas, Blaine crawled into bed beside Kurt, curling so that he fit right in the curve of his husband's side. Blaine sighed contently when felt Kurt's arm wrap around him. They laid like that for a few minutes, melting into the comfort of each other's steady breaths and soft limbs.
Just as Blaine was about to drift to sleep, Kurt shifted beside him, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp, then leaned back and snuggled deeper under the duvet, tightening his hold on Blaine in the now dark room. Blaine turned into Kurt's chest and mumbled softly into his husband's shirt.
"What was that?" Kurt asked, voice heavy with equal parts sleep and amusement.
"I said that you were wonderful tonight. Thank you for taking care of me. And I had a lot of fun at the party."
Blaine didn't see the soft smile that stretched across Kurt's features in reply, but he felt the kiss Kurt pressed against the top of his head.
Blaine barely registered the I love you Kurt murmured into his hair. The last thing he remembered thinking, before falling asleep against the now even rise and fall of his husband's chest, was that no reality he would dream up tonight could possibly be quite as wonderful as the one he was in.