Author's note: This, I originally wrote a couple of months ago, and I finished it around 6 AM, and now I translated it into English, which I finished almost 5 AM. Apparently, it's during the early morning/late nights my magic works.
I'm prepared to regret posting this. Very prepared.
Hate on my has/had grammar, just do it.
Rating: T for tiny rough language. I'm picky.
Pairing: Klaine. Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/Kurt. Don't even know if there's any actual order here...
Genre: Angst, romance.
Nope, I don't own Glee or it's characters, don't know why somebody who did would write FanFiction actually.
Blaine smiled.
"I promise, Kurt. I will never let go of you, as long as you don't beg me to. Because I'll do anything for you."
With lips pressed together and thoughts flying undirected, Kurt looked down at Blaine, and at the little box, and on the ring. It was fantastic, it really was, but...
"I-I... J-j-just..." The words he was going to say seemed to climb on top of each other on their way to his mouth.
Blaine smiled wider. "Was that a... 'yes'...?" he asked.
Oh, fu-ck-ing cr-a-p.
"Uh, hm, er!" Kurt held up a finger in the air, and then shook his head violently.
When something very dark and grey seemed to place itself over Blaine's eyes, Kurt could not look at him any longer. He raised from his chair, with his glance at the door.
"Excuse me" he said. "I-I need some... alone time. Mhm?"
When he turned around, he did have time to see Blaine's reaction, but he was really not tempted to, either. The only thing he needed right now was a moment for himself. Get himself together. Breathe, take it easy, think about what was happening and why, and so on.
One could have thought that the household's only bedroom (who he obviously shared with Blaine. They shared the same bed too. Wonderful, for getting the private times you need) would be the perfect place to sit down and just think. That was though, completely wrong, because the whole room smelled of roses. Not so remarkabe maybe, considering that the morning had started with the same smell, when Blaine woke Kurt up by reaching to him, the biggest flower bouqet he had ever seen with his own eyes. About fifty bright red roses.
Already at then, Kurt should have understood that something was different, or at least that something had happened behind those dark, bushy eyebrows.
He had barely noticed that he was about to go, before Kurt found himself slam the front door shut behind him. In his hand, he squeezed the car keys. For a moment he stood there, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For a moment he considered what he was actually doing.
I'm about to drive away from the man of my life, who just proposed to me.
Okay.
Let's go then.
With determined steps he walked to the garage. He knew they only had one car, and that it was as much Blaine's car as it was his own, but it could not be helped. Right now, the only thing he needed was to get away from there as fast as possible. To think of something else was not an option.
After a car drive that Kurt would have valued to about three hours long, his cell phone rang.
Super good. I brought that too.
With a quick glance at the car's clock, he learned that he had only been driving for twenty minutes. It had been pressured minutes, and he had managed to build up a list in his head of about twenty-eleven reasons to not turn around and drive back.
Kurt breathed and continued to stare at the road in front of him. Sure, he could feel his heart beat so hard it seemed as if it actually started to get tired of living in his chest, and sure, he could not recall ever feeling this stressed out and feverish before - not even before a performance - but so what? He was not going to be in a car accident for that. He still knew he needed to keep his eyes on the road.
The cell phone continued to ring.
Actually he did not want to answer it. It was just when the sound died that he realised why he should have done it. He could recognise that it was time to make a new list.
There he sat, Kurt Hummel, in a car that was only partly his own. One point to why he should have answered.
His boyfriend since soon to be seven years had been perfect the entire day. Another point.
In the evening he had been proposed to by mentioned boyfriend. One more point.
The ring had been undescribably beautiful, Blaine had been even more beautiful, and the roses had been precisely as beautiful. The points started to become very many.
The cell phone started to ring once again. He knew who it was that called, and this time he had no arguments for letting it keep ringing for much longer. Unwillingly, but persisently, he started to make a list of reasons not to answer the phone.
He was stressed out and therefore not in the right condition for talking to somebody. Through fleeing the whole wonderful scene Blaine had created, Kurt had made a complete fool of himself. And the returning reason - the car was not entirely his own. It was frightening to think of what woud happen if he answered the phone and then just went home again.
The ring tone stopped to ring once again.
Once again, Kurt regretted that he had not answered it. What was he doing - this was not what he had wished for. Was it not he who had planned his own wedding since he was little? Was it not he who had been worried about Blaine not even wanting to get married? Was it not he who longingly had admired Rachel's engagement ring, only a couple of weeks ago?
There was something crazy that had happened in Kurt's head, and he had no excuse for letting it continue.
With yet another deep breath, and a calm but steady glance in front of him, he decided to answer the next call.
Impatiently he started to wonder exactly what he would say when he answered.
Hi. Excuse me, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have flipped like that. I'll be back really soon. See you in a half an hour.
Would that be enough? He would come again, and Blaine would ask him again, and he would say yes. The whole world would smell like love red roses and engagement. It would be wonderful.
The road started to feel infinite in front of him.
When was he going to call again?
Kurt looked at the car clock again. Yet another twenty minutes had passed since he looked last time. How long ago was it since the cell phone ringed last time? That he could find out, but that would mean he would have to stop the car and pick up the phone to look it up.
It was terrifying. Why was he so scared?
A little further.
But after another five minutes, the phone had not rung a third time. The time went by slowly, and Kurt began to feel awfully desperate.
His attention seemed to take a break for the second time in only a couple of hours, and when it woke up again, he had parked his car in front of some sort of grocery store. His cell phone was in his hand.
Before Kurt had the time to change his mind, he found Blaine's number and pressed call. Even though there was an incredible lot of voices in his head, and so many impulses in his body who fought against what he was doing, he pressed the phone to his ear and waited.
This will probably take way too long, just because I'm having such a fantastic - fantastic! - day.
After a half - yes, a half - signal, somebody answered on the other end.
"Kurt! Kurt, are you all right?" asked a worried and heart-breaking voice.
Kurt exhaled. "Blaine" he said. "I'm all right." With all the courage he could bring out of himself, he added: "How are you?"
When they really started to talk, it felt like the clock in the car stopped, the sounds outside was silenced, and everything, time, stopped. But he could feel that it took a long time, so very long time.
"I want to come home" said Kurt.
He had walked out of the car, and leaned against one of the doors, with his eyes nailed to the asphalt that his feet unsteadily held him up on.
"I want to come home" he repeated, "and I want to make this all okay."
He could hear Blaine take a deep breath. "It would be wonderful" said Blaine without relief. "It would really, but I'm not sure if it would be... simple."
That, Kurt did not answer. He just waited, and he knew that the man on the other side of the line understood that he wondered.
"You're saying it like it would be easy to fix, Kurt" said Blaine with a voice that made every single cell in Kurt's body suicidal and wanting to disappear or transform into little pieces of hair. "But this... Sorry."
"Why are you saying you're sorry?" mumbled Kurt. He wondered not as much as he tried to make the tears not reach his voice.
"I feel awful right now" sighed Blaine, but seemed to start over. "No, okay, you know what? Come home. We can talk more then, or we could just take it easy - eat, watch a movie, whatever." He paused. "Is that fine?"
Kurt nodded, even though he knew nobody saw it. "It's really fine."
Never had Kurt thought that he would yell as much as he did that night.
It was proved though, that he had that possibility, and he used it during the worst fight he had ever been in.
"You never think about me!"
"Never think about you? I do everything to make you feel good, Blaine!"
"Oh really? So that's how you make me feel good? You leave me when I'm proposing to you! Absolutely, Kurt! You are so right - I feel so much better now that I understand that you don't want to be with me!"
"Don't want to be with you - what are you talking about? I have never said anything like that! Are you completely insane?"
"For every word that's coming out of your mouth, I feel so much better! Thank you so much!"
"You are so incredibly immature! Do you think that helps, or what?"
Of this sort, the discussion continued for two hours - neither more nor less - before Blaine fell down in an armchair. Even though the fight had started the very moment Kurt stepped in to the hallway, they had moved around through the whole house, and their final destination was exaclty here - in the living room.
"Are you really tired of me?" asked Blaine without looking at the other.
To answer that question, Kurt needed to consider if the fight over. He realised it seemed like it was, and picked his words carefully.
"No" he said. "I have never been tired of you."
"But you said that before" claimed Blaine with wrinkled eyebrows. "That you were..." he shrugged, "tired of me and 'my stupid ideas'."
"Please, I didn't mean it that way" said Kurt. "I don't think I can manage to keep fighting any more."
He realised how tired he was, and how exhausting it was to yell for hours, and think of things to yell and feel things at the same time.
Blaine's lips pressed into a tense grimace, but then he seemed to relax. "We don't have to" he said, and raised from the arm chair to stand in front of the other.
"I'm sorry I scared you."
Kurt nodded. "I'm sorry I ruined everything."
As if they both knew exactly what would happen thereafter, they fell into each other's arms in a - at first, warm - embrace. Soon Kurt could feel how Blaine's grip of him became grimmer, as if desperate. It made him worried.
"Come" he mumbled.
They let go of each other, and barely had Blaine looked up, before he was led away to the couch, where Kurt laid down. "Come" he repeated.
"There's no space for me" noted Blaine. "It's a simple couch, you can't-"
"Come" said Kurt once more.
As if it was that repetition he needed, Blaine sat down on the edge of the couch.
"Lay down with me" offered Kurt. "I want to tell you something."
Slowly, but without thinking, Blaine laid down beside him, facing and with eyes set on his.
"Tell me" whispered Blaine.
"There's space for you" whispered Kurt back.
Blaine nodded. "Yes, but we couldn't really lay here and sleep, 'cause-"
"There will always be space for you beside me" interrupted Kurt. "I will always be prepared to move a little bit, so you can be as close to me as possible."
He could see how tears was born in Blaine's eyes in just a moment, and how they started to run diagonally down his cheeks. With shaking hands and shivering breathes, Blaine's face found it's place closer to Kurt's, and with the smell of salt water tingling in his nose, Kurt returned an eager kiss.
Blaine gave him new kisses all the time, and soon it seemed like it was only a waste to breath - this was so much more important than anything else. Even though air never really reached Kurt's lips before Blaine's mouth did, he was at least as excited about ignoring it as the man beside him was.
Unfortunately their kissing had a break, and between it, Kurt automatically took in a very deep and very soundly breathe, which made Blaine giggle uncontrolledly. The air Kurt had breathed disappeared again, when he also began to laugh, and with eyes set on each other, they smiled more widely than any laughter would ever make them smile.
"Kurt Hummel" whispered Blaine with his voice drained in tears and laughter.
"Yes?" whispered Kurt back, his voice still broken from yelling, and filled with laughter.
"Will you make me the honor of..." Blaine swallowed, and seemed to change his mind.
Kurt saw how Blaine's eyes penetrated his. It seemed to be some sort of check. Blaine started over.
"Kurt Hummel" he whispered.
"M-hm?" mumbled Kurt, and could not feel less excited as than child on Christmas' Eve.
But yet another time Blaine paused. He placed a hand on Kurt's cheek, and for a brief moment he stroke it.
"Marry me."
Kurt's eyes teared up instantly, but Blaine looked at him with a hopeful and tense glance.
"M-hm" Kurt almost whimpered, and nodded.
"Was that a 'yes'?" asked Blaine carefully, but his eyes said he already knew the answer.
"Yes" answered Kurt. "Yes, it was."
When they kissed again, it was not desperate and alarming any more. It was very much alike another kiss they had shared, during their time at Dalton Academy, when they still had been unsecure, but also incredibly in love. Their first kiss had been fantastic, and it had triggered so much relief - this they had been waiting for - but also pointed them into the future.
Seven years later, they laid there - Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson - in a couch where two lying people actually did not have enough space, and they kissed as if every new kiss was their first.