A/N: "Kurt and Sebastian are brother husbands to Blaine, and make it serious."
How to write something like this? In character? So absolutely non-canon? Talk about challenge! No idea how to approach it. But, here we are, we'll see how it goes. If it's horrible, blame Emily! Hahahahaha.
If you hate it, there's this little back button on your browser:) This story is dedicated to Klitta and Kemily.
His voice was gentle and sweet, as usual. Lying with his head on Blaine's shoulder, he was tracing the edge of Blaine's collarbone with his index finger. Though the bed was large, they would have fit comfortably on a twin. With Blaine's difficult school schedule and Kurt's nonstop rehearsals, these moments were small luxuries, far and few between. And yet, just being there with Kurt erased the stresses of reality. It was as if they'd been lying there for weeks. No responsibilities, nothing demanding their attention... just each other.
Saturday mornings were Blaine's absolute favorite.
"Mmm?" he responded quietly, grabbing Kurt's tracing hand in his own and kissing it lightly.
"What do you think about... you know, adoption?" asked Kurt nervously, and, after seeing the alarmed look on Blaine's face, quickly added, "I'm not opposed to surrogacy either, of course!"
Blaine almost laughed. "It's not the method, honey... I mean, we've only been married-"
"Two months, eight days, and eleven hours. Oh, and twenty-seven minutes."
This time, Blaine let out a small giggle. "And how many seconds?"
Kurt groaned. "I'm not saying tomorrow. But, you know, we could discuss it."
"Kurt, you know I want little Warblers as bad as you do, but with my school and your rehearsals, we just don't have the funds or the time to properly care for a child," answered Blaine honestly. Reality came crashing down as they sat in silence. The illusion of endless time together vanished. It had been an unspoken rule to avoid mentioning their busy lives on Saturday mornings, and Blaine had just unintentionally broken it.
He didn't blame Kurt. He'd had visions too, visions of taking his child to choir practice, teaching his child a first instrument. But now was not the time.
He'd crushed Kurt, though, and he knew it. In an effort to raise his spirits, Blaine broke the silence.
"So, what would you name our future child?"
Kurt's smile returned. "I don't know... maybe Abram... after-"
"Abe Burrows?" Blaine laughed. "Might as well just name him Tony."
"Well, with parents like us, he'll be destined for broadway victory!"
"Maybe we should opt for surrogacy, then, hmm? But we'll have to decide whose sperm has better singing genes."
There was a short-lived silence before the two collapsed into laughter.
Saturday mornings were the absolute best.
"Do you think this is inappropriate to wear to a military academy graduation?" Kurt held up his most prized Brioni tux for Blaine's approval.
"I'm not sure people really dress up for those things, Kurt..."
"Oh. Calvin Klein, then?"
Blaine laughed. "I'm pretty sure your usual dress will be more than enough compared to the rest."
"I just want to support Finn, you know?" Kurt sighed heavily and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked over at Blaine. "You sure you can't go?"
"You know I have exams Monday. But I really do wish I could be there for my brother-in-law."
"Can you at least pick me up at the airport?" asked Kurt.
"Well, of course! Who else?" exclaimed Blaine.
"And you'll show up in a black suit with a limo? Holding a white sign that says 'Kurt Hummel-Anderson'?"
"Honey, if it'll make you happy, I'll show up in your Brioni."
Kurt's smile lasted a few seconds before vanishing. "I'm going to miss you. I hate sleeping alone."
"It's only a few days. It'll be Monday night before you know it," assured Blaine, putting his arm around Kurt and pulling him close. "I love you. Don't wear a tuxedo."
"You see? This is why I need you!"
"So I can dress you in the mornings? Would you like orange or apple juice in your lunch box today, sweetie?"
Kurt punched Blaine playfully. "Apple. Minute Maid."
"The only acceptable answer. Now finish packing, we don't want you to miss your flight."
Hugs at airport departure always seemed to last centuries, yet never felt long enough. Blaine broke free first, and nudged Kurt towards the security entrance.
"Text me when you get there. Pass along my congratulations to Finn."
"Will do. I love you."
"I love you more. Now go! You're late!"
"Would it be so bad if I missed it?"
"GO!"
Kurt grinned at his beautiful husband before turning to the infinite line of business executives, families, and screaming children. He clutched his bag firmly as he watched Blaine blow him one last kiss before disappearing down the escalator. Though Blaine was not there to see it, Kurt caught it in the air and held it tightly.
Blaine walked out of the classroom and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He grinned as he saw Kurt's name light up the screen.
"How was the ceremony?"
"How was the exam?"
"Decent. My favorite part was feeling my pocket vibrate consistently towards the end."
"Oh! Damn, I forgot about the time difference. I hope I didn't get you in trouble..."
Blaine laughed. "It's a class of three hundred. I was one of probably sixty vibrating pockets in the crowd. Now, how was the ceremony?"
"Beautiful. If Finn had that kind of muscle in high school, nobody would have dared touched me," said Kurt. "I will tell you all about it when you pick me up. You do remember-"
"Seven o'clock, terminal E, gate 29. I've got it tattooed to my eyelids. I'll be there," interrupted Blaine assuredly. "I love you."
"Love you, too."
Blaine hung up just as he reached his car. He threw his cell phone in the empty passenger's seat and smiled. In just five hours, Kurt would be there to catch it, just like before. The drive home was brighter than usual. He passed through the suburban neighborhoods, smiling as he watched mothers strap their daughters into car seats and fathers toss footballs with their sons. He had a family, now, too. And one day, he'd have a giggling two-year-old to strap into an undoubtedly Kurt-chosen designer car seat of his own.
He pulled into the driveway slowly, parked, and almost skipped up to the front door. He pulled out his key to unlock it when-
"You seem happy about something."
Blaine jumped back, dropping his keys to the floor. He gripped the side railing of the porch to steady himself, and caught his breath before facing the intruder.
"Se-Sebastian?"
"The one-and-only! How have you been, Anderson? Or... is it Anderson-Hummel, now?" Sebastian smiled, leaning his tall body against the kitchen window. His usual brown hair seemed longer than before, but perhaps it just hadn't been gelled up. A black bag was slung over his shoulder. He was wearing casual clothing, a gray shirt with dark-washed jeans. Blaine couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him without his black-and-red Warbler uniform. Or maybe he could, vaguely. He considered this for a moment before Sebastian broke the silence again.
"Are you going to invite me in? It's a bit chilly out."
"How did you find my house?" asked Blaine nervously.
"Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend? I just came to see how you were doing, congratulate you on your marriage."
"R-Right. Sorry, I guess I was just... shocked to see you, is all. Come on in, I'll make coffee."
It felt wrong, inviting him in. Almost like a betrayal. But Sebastian meant very little to Blaine, so he suppressed the guilt temporarily. It wasn't right to leave him outside when he'd made the effort to come see him. A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt. He bent down to reach for his keys, carefully positioning himself so as not to present his ass to Sebastian.
"Nice place you've got here. I assume Kurt decorated," commented Sebastian as they entered, his tone unreadable. He eyed the Victorian-style wall decor with interest.
"Yeah, he's really got an eye for that sort of thing. Black? Sugar?"
"You don't remember my coffee order?"
"I'm sorry, no. It's been a while since I've seen you-"
"Three years to the day, actually," mused Sebastian, taking a seat at the kitchen table gracefully. "Your birthday, remember?"
"Vaguely," responded Blaine non-committally, pulling two coffee mugs out of the cabinet.
"Yeah, I suppose you wouldn't."
"I don't drink much anymore."
"Probably for the best. You might remember more."
"Uh... yeah. So, we've got Vanilla, Hazelnut, Almond..." offered Blaine, keeping his eyes glued to the coffee containers.
"I brought you something," said Sebastian. Blaine heard him rustle through his bag noisily. He turned around, becoming more uncomfortable with the situation by the minute. Sebastian handed him a small box, wrapped beautifully in a red satin ribbon.
"I don't think I should-"
"Please, Blaine. I came all the way here to give it to you."
"What... is it?"
"Just open it," encouraged Sebastian calmly, standing up and placing the box in Blaine's hands.
Blaine felt dirty as he unwrapped the ribbon. This wasn't right. He couldn't accept this. He opened the box slowly, and gasped as he dropped it, hearing the ring clink loudly on the floor.
"What are you DOING? I am in love with Kurt, we're married! I can't take this, you should really leave-"
Sebastian smiled as he bent over to pick up the ring, and unlike Blaine, was careful to position his backside in full view. "Happy anniversary, Blaine. I figured since I didn't get the chance to give you one three years ago-"
"What the HELL are you talking about? You really need to go. I have someplace to be today-"
"Of course, you wouldn't remember. You might want to take a seat. I'll get you some coffee."
Blaine didn't much like being told to sit down in his own kitchen, or to be offered his own coffee, but he was too taken aback to respond. He glanced at the clock. He needed to get to work, he had to go make Kurt his sign, he had to try on the black suit...
"Do you remember when your wonderful boyfriend forgot your twenty-first birthday?" asked Sebastian, filling the coffee maker with water.
"He didn't forget," answered Blaine defensively, feeling his nervousness wash away with anger. "His flight was delayed, there was too much snow-"
"Whatever. He wasn't there. Remember what the Warblers did for you?"
Blaine recalled the collection of red-and-black suits outside his front door three years prior. All graduated, some of them had out-grown their old suits, but they looked adorable regardless. He remembered noting the high black socks to compensate for the short-hemmed pants. They'd broken out into a beautiful jazz acapella version of "Happy Birthday", and handed him a card. He remembered his excitement when he opened it. Plane tickets.
"Of course you remember. It was a fun trip, wasn't it?"
No. It wasn't possible. He hadn't been THAT drunk. Had he?
"You were humbled and excited, at first. The city was beautifully lit. You weren't really a gambler, though, so we took you to classy bars. We bought you expensive liquor. Twelve drinks later, you were angry. A few more, you were livid. 'Why would Kurt go out of town so close to my birthday?' you kept whining. You kept drinking. And I made a promise to you."
No.
"I promised you that I would never do that to you. That I would NEVER leave you the way Kurt did. That even though Kurt was probably having a fantastic time checking out all of the sexy men in Europe, I was there with you. And I would always be there."
"I wouldn't have believed you for a second," grumbled Blaine, his voice shaky.
Sebastian returned to the table, placing a mug in front of Blaine. He reached for his black bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "Would you believe this?"
Blaine didn't want to see it. He didn't want to look at his signature on that stupid piece of paper. All he wanted was for Sebastian to get out of his perfect house so he could make the perfect sign for his perfect husband on what was supposed to be the perfect day.
He stepped out of the revolving door gracefully. From his beautifully-styled hair to his meticulously-shined shoes, he was the epitome of perfection. His innocence seemed to hover around him like an aura. Blaine didn't deserve Kurt. But he would never give him up.
"What, no suit?" asked Kurt jokingly, and smiled as he ran up to hug him. Blaine gripped his husband tightly, and tried to imagine Saturday mornings. If he could just hold on forever, he would never have to go back. They could stand right in the middle of this busy airport, never letting go.
Kurt released him and looked worriedly at Blaine's tear-stained face. "Baby... what's wrong?"
"There's... something I have to tell you, Kurt."
Saturday mornings would never be the same.